alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第46节
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Behind us Senator Brewster blundered along in a blind world all of his own； stumbling often； falling occasionally but always pushing himself up and staggering gamely on。 And in those few hours Hoffman Brewster； for me； ceased to be a senator and became again my earliest conception of the old Dixie Colonel； not the proud； rather overbearing aristocrat but the embodiment of a bygone southern chivalry； when courtesy and a splendid gallantry in the greatest perils and hardships were so routine as to excite no ment。 Time and time again during that 。bitter night be insisted； forcibly insisted； on relieving one of the three of us of our burdens and would stagger along under the load until he reached the point of collapse。 Despite his age； he was a powerful man： but he had no longer the heart and the lungs and the circulation to match his muscles； and his distress； as the night wore on； became pitiful to see。 The bloodshot eyes were almost closed in exhaustion； his face deep…etched in grey suffering and his breath ing in painful whooping gasps that reached me clearly even above the thin high shriek of the wind。
No doubt but that Small wood and Corazzini had left us to die； but they had made one mistake： they had forgotten Balto。 Balto； as always； had been running loose when they had left us； and they had either failed to see him or forgotten all about him。 But Balto hadn't forgotten us； he must have known something was far wrong； for all the hours we had been prisoners on the tractor sled he had never e within a quarter…mile of us。 But as soon as the tractor had dumped and left us； he had e loping in out of the driving snow and settled to the task of leading us down towards the glacier。 At least； we hoped he was doing that。 Jackstraw declared that he was following the crimp marks of the Citroen's caterpillars； now deep buried under the flying drift and new…fallen snow。 Zagero wasn't so sure。 Once； twice； a dozen times that night； I heard him muttering the same words： 〃I hope to hell that hound knows where it's goinV
But Balto knew where he was going。 Sometime during the night…it might have been any time between midnight and three o'clock in the morning…he stopped suddenly； stretched out his neck and gave his long eerie wolf call。 He seemed to listen for an answer； and if he heard anything it was beyond our range： but he seemed satisfied； for he suddenly changed direction and angled off to the left into the blizzard。 At Jackstraw's nod； we followed。
Three minutes later we came upon the dog…sledge； with two of the dogs curled up beside it； their backs to the wind； their muzzles to their bellies and long brushes of tails over their faces； the drift wailing high around them。 They were fortable enough…so splendid an insulation does a husky's thick coat provide that snow at forty degrees below zero will lie on its back indefinitely without being melted by body heat…but they preferred freedom to fort； for they were on their feet and vanished into the swirling whiteness beyond before we could lay hands on them。 That left only the sledge。
I suppose that after Smallwood had gone far enough to consider that we would never be able to reach that point； he had cut loose dogs and dog…sledge as a needless encumbrance…but not before he had severed all the traces attaching the dogs to the sledge and； I noticed grimly； removed all the wraps and the magnetic pass that had been there。 He thought of everything。 For a moment； admiration for the man's undoubtedly remarkable qualities came in to supplant what had bee the motivating reason for my existence； a reason that； as the hours crawled by； were crowding out even the feelings I had for Margaret Ross： my hatred for Small wood burned like a cold steady flame； an obsession with the 。 idea of sinking my fingers into that scrawny throat and never Jetting go。
Within three minutes of finding the sledge we had tied together the severed remnants of the traces； changed them to the front and were on our way again； Marie LeGarde； Mahler and Helene propped up on the thin wooden slats。 We had； of course； to pull the sledge ourselves； but that was nothing： for Jackstraw； Zagero and myself； the relief was beyond measure。 But it was only momentary。
We were running on to the smooth； slick ice of the Kangalak glacier； but our progress was no faster than it had been before we found the sledge。 The wind was climbing up to its maximum now； the blizzard shrieking along horizontally to the ground and ing in great smoking flurries that cut visibility to zero and made us stop and grab one another lest one of us be knocked flying and for ever lost to sight： several times Theodore Mahler； restless in unconsciousness； rolled off the sledge until I at last made Brewster sit at the back and watch。 He protested violently； but he was glad to do as I said。
I don't remember much after that； I think I must have been unconscious； eyes shut； but still plodding along in my sleep on leaden； frozen feet。 My first conscious memory after installing Brewster on the back of the sledge was of someone shaking me urgently by the shoulder。 It was Jackstraw。
〃No more！〃 he shouted in my ear。 〃We must stop； Dr Mason； wait till it's blown itself out。 We can't live through this。〃
I said something that was unintelligible even to myself； but Jackstraw took it for agreement and began pulling the sledge into the sloping side of the glacier valley and to the leeward side of one of the snowdrifts piled up against some of the ridges on the side of the valley。 It wasn't all that much of an improvement； but the wind and the effect of the blizzard were perceptibly less。 We unloaded the three sick people on the sledge into what pitiful shelter the ridge offered： I was just about to let my knees buckle and collapse beside them when I realised that someone was missing： it was a fair indication of the toll taken by wind and cold and exhaustion that almost twenty seconds passed before I realised it was Brewster。
〃Good God！〃 I cried in Jackstraw's ear。 〃The Senator…we've lost him！ I'll go back and look。 I won't be a minute。〃
〃Stay here。〃 The grip on my arm was promise enough that Jackstraw meant to detain me by force； if necessary。 〃You'd never e back。 Balto！ Balto！〃 He shouted a few Eskimo words which meant nothing to me； but the big Siberian seemed to understand； for he was gone in a moment； following the direction of Jackstraw's pointing hand。 He was back again inside two minutes。
〃He's found him？〃 I asked Jackstraw。
Jackstraw nodded silently。
〃Let's bring him in。〃
Balto led us there； but we didn't bring him in。 Instead we left him lying where we found him； face down in the snow； dead。 The blizzard was already drawing its concealing shroud over him； in an hour he would be no more than a featureless white mound in a featureless white valley。 My hands were too numb to examine him； but I wouldn't have bothered anyway： the half…century of self…indulgence in food and drink and temper； all of which had been so clearly reflected in the heavy florid face when first I'd seen him； had had their inevitable way。 The heart； cerebral thrombosis； it didn't matter now。 But he had been a man。
How long we lay there； the six of us and Balto huddled close together for warmth； unconscious or dozing while that hurricane of a blizzard reached then passed its howling crescendo； I never knew。 Probably only half an hour； perhaps not even that。 When I awoke； stiff and numbed； I reached for Jackstraw's torch。 It was exactly four o'clock in the morning。
I looked at the others。 Jackstraw was wide awake …1 was pretty sure he'd never shut an eye lest one of us slip away from sleep into that easy frozen sleep from which there would have been no wakening…and Zagero was stirring。 That they…and I…would survive； I didn't doubt。 Helene was a question mark。 A seventeen…year…old； though short on endurance； was usually high on resilience and recuperative powers； but Helene's seemed to have deserted her。 After the death of her mistress and up to the time she had collapsed she had bee strangely withdrawn and unresponsive； and I guessed that the death of Mrs Dansby…Gregg had hit her far more than any of us would have guessed。 The previous forty…eight hours apart； it seemed to me that she had had little enough to thank Mrs Dansby…Gregg for in the way of affection and warmth： but； then； she was young； Mrs Dansby…Gregg had been the person she had known best and； as a foreigner； she must have regarded Mrs Dansby…Gregg as her sole anchor in an alien sea。。。。 I asked Jackstraw if he would massage her hands； then turned to have a look at Mahler and Marie LeGarde。
〃They don't look so hot to me。〃 Zagero； too； was studying them。 〃What's their chances'； Doc？〃
〃I just don't know；〃 I said wearily。 〃I don't know at all。〃
〃Don't take it to heart； Doc。 It's no fault of yours。〃 Zagero waved a hand towards the snow…filled emptiness and desolation of the glacier。 〃Your dispensary ain't all that well stocked。〃
〃No。〃 I smiled faintly； then nodded at Mahler。 〃Bend down and listen to his breathing。 The end's ing pretty close。 Ordinarily I'd say a couple of hours。 With Mahler I don't know…he's got t
