the effort to force
movement into his limbs. When he stopped walking he fell into a
half-slumber which was acutely painful. When he arose to redrive his
weary body it became freakish, so that he fell or collided with trees.
He was bloody and bruised and cut. Carry a dead man? It was madness,
and, besides, he felt an utter giving away at every joint.

He was too tired to make his reasoning plain; his tongue was thick, and
Crowley's brain too calloused to grasp argument, therefore he squatted
beside the muttering creature and wept impotently. He was asleep, with
tears in his stubbly beard, when his partner finished the rude litter,
yet he took up his end of the burden, as Crowley knew he would.

"You'll kill us both, damn ye!" he groaned.

"Probably so, but we can't leave him to them things." The other nodded
at the vampires perched observantly in the surrounding firs.

Then began their great trial and temptation. For hours on end the birds
fluttered from tree to tree, always in sight and hoarsely complaining
till the sick fancies of the men distorted them into foul, gibing
creatures of the Pit screaming with devilish glee at their anguish.
Blindly they staggered through the forest while the limbs reached forth
to block them, thrusting sharp needles into their eyes or whipping back
viciously. Vines writhed up their legs, straining to delay their march,
and the dank moss curled ankle-deep, slyly tripping their dragging,
swollen feet. Nature hindered them sullenly, with all her heart-breaking
implacability. They reeled constantly under their burden and grew to
hate the ragged-barked trees that smote them so cruelly and so roughly
tore their flesh. Ofttimes they fell, rolling the maniac limply from his
couch, but they dragged him back and strained forward to the hideous
racket of his mumblings, which grew louder as his delirium increased.
They were forced to tie him to the poles, but could not stop his ghastly
shriekings. At every pause the dismal ravens croaked and leered evilly
from the shadows, till Buck shuddered and hid his face while Crowley
gnashed his teeth. From time to time other birds joined them in
anticipation of the feast, till they were ringed about, and the sight of
this ever-growing, grisly, clamorous flock of watchers became awful to
the men. They felt the horny talons searching their flesh and the hungry
beaks tearing at their eyeballs.

A dog-sled and birch-bark practice covering both banks of the Yuk