They ate heartily of the biscuits, Abel's throat being far less painful,
and once more the dull sound of the shovel began in a hollow, muffled
way.

A couple of hours must have passed, at the end of which time so much
snow had accumulated at the foot of the sloping shaft that Dallas was
compelled to descend and help his fellow-prisoner.

"This will not do," he said. "We must get out some more provisions
before we bury the sledges entirely."

"There is enough biscuit to keep us alive for a couple of days," replied
Abel. "Let us chance getting out, and not stop to encumber ourselves
with more provisions."

"It is risky, but I fancy that I am getting nearer the air. Go up and
try yourself."

Abel went up the sloping tunnel to the top with ease, Dallas having
clipped steps out of the ice, and after breathing hard for a few minutes
the younger man came down.

"You must be getting nearer the top. I can breathe quite freely there."

"Yes, and the snow is not so hard."

"Chance it, then, and go on digging," said Abel eagerly. "I will get
the snow away. I can manage so much more easily if I may put it down
anywhere. It gets trampled with my coming and going."

Dallas crept up to his task once more and toiled away, till, utterly
worn out, both made another meal and again slept.

Twice over this was repeated, and all idea of time was lost; still they
worked on, cheered by the feeling that they must be nearing liberty.
However, the plan arranged proved impossible in its entirety, the rock
bulging out in a way which drove the miner to entirely alter the
direction of his sap. But the snow hour after hour grew softer, and the
difficulty of cutting less, till all at once, as Dallas struck with his
spade, it went through into a cavity, and a rush of cool air came into
the sloping tunnel.

"Heavenly!" cried the worker, breathing freely now. "I'll slip down,
Bel. You must come up and have a mouthful of this."

He descended to the bottom, and Abel took the spade and went to his
place.

"The shovel goes through quite easily here," he said excitedly.

"Yes, and what is beyond?" shouted Dallas. "Can you see daylight?"

"No; all is black as ink. It must be a hole in the snow. We must get
into it, for the air comes quite pure and fresh, and that means life and
hope."

In his excitement he struck out with the shovel twice, and had drawn it
back to strike again, when there was a dull heavy crack, and he felt
h