up process was instantaneous. "Well, here goes for Rogue River
and the apples," he said, as his foot went out, this time to rest
carefully and lightly while the other foot was brought up and past. Very
gently and circumspectly he continued on his way until two-thirds of the
distance was covered. Here he stopped to examine a depression he must
cross, at the bottom of which was a fresh crack. Smoke, watching, saw
him glance to the side and down into the crevasse itself, and then begin
a slight swaying.

"Keep your eyes up!" Smoke commanded sharply. "Now! Go on!"

The little man obeyed, nor faltered on the rest of the journey. The
sun-eroded slope of the farther edge of the crevasse was slippery, but
not steep, and he worked his way up to a narrow ledge, faced about, and
sat down.

"Your turn," he called across. "But just keep a-coming and don't look
down. That's what got my goat. Just keep a-coming, that's all. And get a
move on. It's almighty rotten."

Balancing his own stick horizontally, Smoke essayed the passage. That
the bridge was on its last legs was patent. He felt a jar under foot, a
slight movement of the mass, and a heavier jar. This was followed by a
single sharp crackle. Behind him he knew something was happening. If for
no other reason, he knew it by the strained, tense face of Carson. From
beneath, thin and faint, came the murmur of running water, and Smoke's
eyes involuntarily wavered to a glimpse of the shimmering depths. He
jerked them back to the way before him. Two-thirds over, he came to the
depression. The sharp edges of the crack, but slightly touched by the
sun, showed how recent it was. His foot was lifted to make the step
across, when the crack began slowly widening, at the same time emitting
numerous sharp snaps. He made the step quickly, increasing the stride
of it, but the worn nails of his shoe skated on the farther slope of the
depression. He fell on his face, and without pause slipped down and
into the crack, his legs hanging clear, his chest supported by the stick
which he had managed to twist crosswise as he fell.

His first sensation was the nausea caused by the sickening up-leap of
his pulse; his first idea was of surprise that he had fallen no farther.
Behind him was crackling and jar and movement to which the stick
vibrated. From beneath, in the heart of the glacier, came the soft and
hollow thunder of the dislodged masses striking bottom. And still the
bridge, broken from its fa