A cry that he could not suppress rose to Steve's lips, for, to his despair, his last hope died away. He had climbed on desperately, finding the ice-covered rock grow steeper and steeper, till, as he raised one foot to take the next step, there was no crevice or crack to give it hold, and it glided over the ice again and again. He reached to the left, but there was no handhold there. To the right it was the same, and--horror of horrors!--he knew now that he had clambered to a point which it was beyond human power to exceed, and this at a time when the bear was five-and-twenty feet below, and mounting fast. If he could reach that ledge just above him with his hands, he might draw himself up; but could he? There was only one way, by making a leap, and this with so little foothold. But a low growl decided him, and, pulling himself together, he stooped, and then sprang up with all his might. Hurrah! He reached the ledge with his crooked hands, and tried hard to drive his toes into the ice as he hung. But only for a few seconds. The sharp edge of the ledge was of ice of the most glassy nature, and Steve closed his eyes, for he had done all that mortal could do; his fingers glided over the angle to which they had for a moment or two clung, and then, as he drew himself up, he was falling like a ball, and as swift right on to the climbing bear. CHAPTER THIRTY THREE. WATTY'S FEAST. Watty Links was undoubtedly great in a certain capacity. He resembled a Dutch galliot, especially built to contain the largest quantity of merchandise in the smallest tonnage. Of course Watty was not built to receive merchandise, but he was built to receive food, and the quantity he could consume when he was unfettered was so great that a crew made up of men proportionately as great eaters would have made a captain wince when stores were running out, and shipowners decline to take them again at any wage. There being a pretty good amount of the deer haunch left when the men departed--for in their hurry and excitement no one had thought it worth while to pack it up--Watty was left, so to speak, with a free hand--that is to say, he had a fire, plenty of meat, a knife, he knew how to cook, and there was no one to say, "Hold hard, young fellow! I'm sure you have had quite enough." So after making such arrangements as should provide an ample amount of roast deer for Steve when he returned, and also for the three personages of the expedition, Watty took a look round. The sun was getting lower, but the glittering ice peaks and the lights and shades on the mountain were beautiful to behold. But Watty did not see that beauty. He noticed how profound the silence was, thought it very lonely, and turned back to the fire, which was the most beautiful thing he had seen that day, for the gas and smoke were gone, and the coal was all of a hot glow, there being plenty and no question of its price per ton.