w
very far below the glittering surface of the snow.

How to get at him?

Abel's first thought was to free one arm. If he could do that he might
possibly be able to get at his knife, dragging it from the sheath at his
waist. Then the work would be comparatively easy, for he could dig away
the partly consolidated snow in which he was cased, and throw it from
him.

He set to, struggling hard, but without effect, for it seemed to him
that he was only working with his will, his muscles refusing to help;
and by degrees the full truth dawned upon him, that the absence of pain
was due to the fact that his body was quite benumbed, and a horrible
sensation of fear came over him, with the belief that all beneath the
snow must be frozen, and that he could do absolutely nothing to save his
life.

Even as he thought this the benumbed sensation seemed to be rising
slowly towards his brain.

"In a short time all will be over," he groaned aloud, "and poor Dal will
be left there, buried, thinking I have escaped and have left him to his
fate. Is there no way to escape from this icy prison?"

He wrenched his head round as far as he could, first on one side, and
then on the other; but it was always the same--the narrow valley with
its stupendous walls, no longer black and horrible with its unseen
horrors in the darkness of the night, but a wondrous way to a city of
towers and palaces gorgeous to behold. His eyes ached with the flashing
beauties of the scene. It was not the golden Klondike of his dreams,
but a land of silver, whose turrets and spires and minarets were
jewelled with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds; whose shadows were of
sapphire blue or darker amethyst; and whose rays flashed and mingled
till he was fain to close his eyes and ask himself whether what he saw
was part of some dazzling dream.

He looked again, to see that it was no vision, but a scene of beauty
growing more and more intense as the sun rose higher. The darkness had
fled to display these wonders; there was not a chasm or gully that was
not enlightened--everywhere save within the sufferer's darkened soul.
There all was the blackness of despair.

But black despair cannot stay for long in the breast of youth. Hope
began to chase it away, and inanimate though the body was, the brain
grew more active, offering suggestion after suggestion as to how he
might escape.

The sun was growing hotter minute by minute, and the reflections from
the pure white