Snap: A legend of the Lone MountainPhillipps-Wolley, Clive
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Snap: A legend of the Lone Mountain
Phillipps-Wolley, Clive
Canadian Rockies (B.C. and Alta.) -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century; Mountaineering -- Fiction
And then all was over. No sound came back to tell them that it had
reached its resting-place. The stars stood still in the heavens, and
Snap hated them for their cold, unsympathising stare. The granite
rocks looked cold and hard and terrible, and the sky itself looked as
hard and as merciless as the rocks.
A strong hand gripped Snap's shoulder at that moment, and a kind,
strong voice was in his ear:
'Come out of that, lad; if you look over them rocks any longer
they'll kinder draw you down after him.'
CHAPTER XXII
AT THE END OF THE ROPE
'I guess our young 'uns will be feeling as if the old birds had
deserted,' said Dick after a time. 'How do you reckon to get them
up, Snap?'
'Well, I've just been looking over the top of that other point,' said
Snap, indicating one of the other points of the peak, 'and I find we
can get down pretty easily to within about 150 feet of them, but from
there down it's like ice, the rock is so smooth.'
'Let's see if we can pull this balloon in,' said Dick; 'may be, there
is a rope in the car;' and as he spoke he and Snap got hold of the
rope which held the captive balloon, and hauled on it. To their
surprise it came in easily, though now and then it gave a tug which
threatened to jerk them off their feet. When they had got it so
close that they could see into the car Snap was on the point of
getting in.
'Steady, boy, hold on! If you let go I may not be able to keep her
down, and then there you'll be hung up like a bird in a cage,' roared
Dick.
'Well, what are we going to do?' panted Snap.
'Just pay out the rope again steadily, pard; don't let it go with a
jerk, whatever you do,' replied Wharton.
'And now?' asked Snap when the balloon was once more at the end of
its tether.
'Now,' replied Dick, 'we'll make another halter for that there airy
steed. Lend us the lariat.'
Taking off his belt, which fastened with a great metal hook, Wharton
cut the latter off the belt and fastened it to one end of the lariat;
the other end he made fast to a rock.
'Now, my lad,' said he, holding the hook in his teeth, 'haul him in
again,' and, yo-ho-ing like sailors at the capstan, they soon had the
balloon alongside.
'Bear on the rope with all your might, pard!' said Dick, leaning back
and throwing all his weight on one hand, whilst with the other he
hitched the hook at the end of the lariat into one of the ropes round
the car.
'Now let go, you can let her rip! I guess she'll not break away from
them moorings,' said Dick; 'and if you'll get in and look what there
is inside you'll have no trouble in getting out again and no fear of
being flown away with.'
In another minute Snap was in the car, and cried out to Dick:
'Hurrah! here is everything we want; heaps of rugs and two coils of
rope; but it's very thin stuff,' he added.
'Chuck it out, my boy!' cried Wharton, and two coils of new yellow
hemp came tumbling to his feet, followed by a buffalo-robe and two
blankets.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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