ward again, the rifles
answering this new purpose admirably, and giving a steadiness to the
progress that had before been wanting.

Consequently far better progress was made for the next half-hour, with
much less exertion, and Bracy made up his mind that the first patch of
pines they came to on the lower ground should supply them with a couple
of saplings whose poles should have the bayonets fixed or bound upon
them, so as to take the place of the rifles.

"I'm longing for the daylight, Gedge," said Bracy suddenly, for they had
plunged into a mist which obscured the stars, "so that we can see better
in which direction to go, for we ought to be high enough now to be safe
from--Ha!"

Then silence.

"Safe from what, sir?" said Gedge, stopping short.

There was no reply, and after waiting a few seconds, feeling alarmed,
the lad spoke again.

"Didn't quite hear what you said, sir; safe from what?"

There was no reply, and Gedge suddenly turned frantic.

"Mr Bracy, sir," he said hoarsely, and then, raising his voice, he
called his officer by name again and again; but the same terrible
darkness and silence reigned together, and he grew maddened now.

"Oh Lor'!" he cried, "what's come to him?" and he went upon his hands
and knees to crawl and feel about. "He's gone down in a fit, and
slipped sudden right away; for he ain't here. He's half-way down the
mountain by now, and I don't know which way to go and help him, and--
Ah!" he shrieked wildly, and threw himself over backwards, to begin
rolling and sliding swiftly back in the way he had come, his rifle
escaping from his grasp.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

A PRAYER FOR LIGHT.

Gedge glided rapidly down the icy slope for a good fifty yards in the
darkness, with the pace increasing, before he was able to turn on his
back and check himself by forcing his heels into the frozen snow.

"And my rifle gone--where I shall never find it again," was his first
thought, as he forced back his helmet, which had been driven over his
eyes: but, just as the thought was grasped, he was conscious of a
scratching, scraping noise approaching, and he had just time to fling
out his hands and catch his weapon, the effort, however, sending him
gliding down again, this time to check himself by bringing the point of
the bayonet to bear upon the snow. And now stopped, he lay motionless
for a few moments.

"Mustn't be in a flurry," he panted, with his heart beating violently,
"or I shan't find