The Bottineau pioneer. (Bottineau, N.D.) 1885-1895, 1895-01-12

returned to their hotel.
Next morning rose bright and cloud
less, and found the two pedestrians
already well on their way to the upper
slopes, where, flaEked or either hand
by crags and cliffs, and pinnacles Of
rock, lay the glacier they were about
to cross. 1t had been arranged that
they should make the descent into the
adjoining valley by the Stieffer Pass
to the village Of Fluela, which they
would reach in time to catch the dill.
gence in the evening, and 10 return to
Dordi. A guide had been dispensed
with, and, indeed, with their expert
ence In mountaineering and the COM
parative ease Of the present expedi-
ton, there was he occasion for one.
The few early watchers from the ho-
tel balconies could easily descry them
when they cleared the wood and pro-
ceeded to make their way over the
grassy activities on to the moraine,
and thence to the glacier.
Over this their course was toilsome
and slow. The suns hea; Of the pre-.
vious day had slightly melted the sur
face OF the snow, only to have it frozen
hard and slippery at nightfall. In the
higher attitudes, too, a slight covering
of snow had fallen. treacherous to the
foot and In addition hiding dangers
that might lurk underneath. However,
they were seen to reach the sky line, to
lfnger on the highest level Of the snow,
as if for a short breathing space, for o
few minutes, and resuming their toll.
some walk to disappear down the 9th.
er side.
Here, Lawrence, l will let you have
the benefit Of carrying the axe on the
way down. said Grant; If there are
any steps to be cut l will let you know
In good time
Grant was leading. rs he had done
all along since they had quilted the
stones of the moraine. A strong rope,
some twenty yards long. with the op-
posite ends passed around the waist
of each, bound them together.
Half OF the distance Owe the glacier
had been accomplished. when sudden
ly the leading man slipped and fell at
q steep part of the descent. Before
Lawrence had noticed 1t, the loose rope
had become taut, and in an instant he
had lost his footing and was following
his companion in his rapid ylissade.
A few moments later. and their pace
had accelerated 10 a dangerous de-
gree, though at first the motion was
pleasant enough, and Lawrence's sub
sequent wild efforts to retaul it with
the help of his x were fruitless. be-
cause Of their wildness. Their course
lad become almost head|onX, when he
saw his companion. who was some
what in front, bound of q shelving
mass Of snow and then disappear. Next
moment he was caught Ill the same
shelf, buried to the shoulders, and
felt himself almost sufFocated, as the
rope frightened around his waist and
chest.
He was safe so far. but in deadly
peril, on the edge Of 4 %crevasse, into
the depths of which his c%ompanicn's
weight was slowly dragging him. To
seek to stay his downward course with
the help of his ice-axe. and devise
some means OF rescue for his friend,
was the one imperative step that lay
before him. But that step, though he
bitterly regretted it after. he did not
take. A struggle of conflicting emo
tons, Of past friendship and present
jealousy, Of sympathy and despair, and
in n overwhelming moment of era
ven c0wardice he struck a blow at
the rope now stretched to its utmost
tension. t:i' u The strands gave way,
but the other two still held together,
though almost at the breaking point.
Another blow, q muttered curse, and
again a wild curse, and then--Law-
renee was free, his safety assured, with
q sickening feeling at heart that whis-
pered to him Murderer"
Without venturing to peer over the
edge of the yawning chasm, he crawled
ON hands and knees from the fatal
spot, and slowly retraced his steps
ever the glacier. He had presence of
mind enough to fray the ends Of the
t~ell-tale strands Of rope before reach
ing his hotel. whenca Il search party
was Immediately dispatched for the
recovery of the unfortunate Grants
body. 1t was sunrise of the next morn
ing before they reached the fatal spot.
Traces Of tho tragedy were all' too ap-
parent on the surface Of the snow.
but the Icy cavern hid all else in it's
depths. A man was lowered. His face
was ashy pale when he was drawn
up, and it was some time ere he could
speak.
II slipped off 4 ledge some thirty
feet down." at last he managed to say,
land I thought my last hour had come.
Nothing below that but two walls of
ice as far as I could look. The fall
would have killed him at once.
"Those who are living twenty years
hence will find his body at the foot of
the glacier said old Andreas Mettier,
the guide. Il remember wien a boy
an accident like it, and the body was
found unchanged after ali that time"
1t was some days ere Lawrence
could set off for home. There had been
O heavy fall of snow, and the roads
were blocked and all travelling by dill.
igence stopped. His physical condition
would not have allowed him to ven,
Overstrung nerv had given way com
pletely. Nor did the manifest sympa.
thy of all about him help much to re.
cover his buoyancy of spirits. His con.
dition was ascribed to grief for his
friends loss, and in a lesser degree to
his W imminent peril at the time
Of the catastrophe. But could the sym.
pathizers have read the secrets of his
mind, they would have known that he
was a prey to bitter shame and the
grief it engenders, and that now his
friends fate and his own treachery
were ever before him in all the hor
rors Of the situation.
On the evening before his departure
however, he summoned courage enough
to press his suit with the unwilling
cause of his crime.
do not ask me now, SO soon aftel
your friends DEATH" wal all she said