e blackness was like a wall. By and by the outlying embers
of the fire began to glow faintly; but there was another splash, and
every spark was quenched. Bending his head, he strained his ears. For a
long time there was no sound from across the river; then little by
little, and softly, he heard them set to work like mice behind a
wainscot. There was a singular, measured falling of stones, which at
first he could not interpret; then it suddenly occurred to him they were
building a barricade across their little terrace; and he took heart; for
the act was opposed to any design of immediate flight. But then, he
thought, Mary, behind the wall, could easily hold the crossing by
daylight, while the two men escaped with Natalie. Somehow, he must get
across first.

He searched noiselessly among the stones above the water line for
driftwood; and succeeded in picking up a stick here and a branch there.
Four of the stouter pieces he tied in a square with the rope that bound
his pack; and upon this frame he piled a crib of sticks, of sufficient
buoyancy to float his clothes, his pack and his gun. He stripped to the
skin and waded cautiously into the water. It was of an icy coldness that
bit like a great burn, and forced the breath out of his lungs like a
squeezed bellows. But he set his jaws and struck out, towing his little
raft with the end of the rope between his teeth.

He headed straight across, leaving it to the current to carry him safely
below the camp. Ordinarily, fifty strokes would have carried him over,
but the terrible cold congealed the very sap of his body; and the clumsy
little raft offered as much resistance as a log. He could not tell how
far he was carried down. Reaching the other side at last, he could
scarcely crawl out on the stones. He was too stiff to attempt to draw on
his clothes; the best he could do was to roll in his blankets, and
writhe to restore the circulation.

His limbs were rigid; his feet and hands wholly numb--but the will rules
even bodily exhaustion. He would not tolerate the thought of weakness;
he _would_ get warm; and his reluctant blood was forced at last to
resume its course through his veins. Warmth returned with excruciating
pain. He conceded his worn body a little rest--for he knew they could
not get their horses before morning--but in an hour, dressed, and with
his pack and his gun on his back, he was crawling back toward Grylls's
camp.

This shore of the river, like the other, wa