After a while sounds of metal striking ice came from a point around the
buttress; Banks was cutting steps. Then, following a silence, he appeared.
But, on coming into the sunny westward exposure, he stopped, and with two
fingers raised like a weather-vane, stood gazing down the canyon. His eyes
began to scintillate like chippings of blue glacier.
Involuntarily every one turned in that direction, and Frederic reached to
take his field-glasses from the shelf of the buttress they had converted
into a table. But he saw nothing new to hold the attention except three or
four gauzy streamers of smoke or vapor that floated in the lower gorge.
"Looks like a train starting up," he commented, "but the Limited gets the
right of way as soon as there's a clear track."
Banks dropped his hand and moved a few steps to take the glasses from
Morganstein. "You're right," he replied in his high, strained key. "It
ain't any train moving; it's the Chinook waking up." He focussed on the
Oriental Limited, then slowly swept the peak that overtopped the cars.
"Likely they dasn't back her into the tunnel," he said. "The bore is long
enough to take in the whole bunch, but if a slide toppled off that
shoulder, it would pen 'em in and cut off the air. It looks better
outside, my, yes."
"Here is your coffee, Mr. Banks," said Elizabeth, who had filled a cup
from the thermos bottle, "and please take anything else you wish while I
repack the basket. We are all waiting, you see, to go on."
The prospector paused to take the cup, then said: "I guess likely we won't
make the summit this trip. We've got to hustle to get down before it turns
soft."
"Oh, but we must make the summit," exclaimed Marcia, taking up her
alpenstock. "Why, we are all but there."
"How does it look ahead?" inquired Frederic, walking along the buttress.
"Heard you chopping ice."
"I was cutting steps across the tail end of a little glacier. It's a
gliddery place, but the going looks all right once you get past. Well,
likely you can make it," he added shrilly, "but you've got to be quick."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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