alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第2部分

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adful　cold；　110　degrees　below　cabin　temperature；　swept　in　and　engulfed　the　survivors；　the　dazed；　the　injured；　the　unconscious　and　the　dying　as　they　sat　or　lay　crumpled　in　the　wreckage　of　the　seats；　clad　only　in　thin　suits　and　dresses。　。　。　。
　
　The　plane　had　pleted　a　full　circuit　and　was　ing　round　again。　If　anything；　it　was　even　closer　this　time；　at　least　a　hundred　feet　lower；　and　it　seemed　to　have　lost　some　speed。　It　might　have　been　doing　120；　perhaps　130　miles　an　hour；　I　was　no　expert　in　these　things；　but　for　that　size　of　plane；　so　close　to　the　ground；　it　seemed　a　dangerously　low　speed。　I　wondered　just　how　effective　the　pilot's　windscreen　wipers　would　be　against　these　flying　ice　spicules。
　
　And　then　I　forgot　all　about　that；　forgot　all　about　everything　except　the　desperate；　urgent　need　for　speed。　Just　before　the　plane　had　turned　round　to　the　east　again　and　so　out　of　the　line　of　our　blinded　vision；　it　had　seemed　to　dip　and　at　the　same　instant　two　powerful　lights　stabbed　out　into　the　darkness；　the　one　lancing　straight　ahead；　a　narrow　powerful　beam　glittering　and　gleaming　with　millions　of　sparkling　diamond　points　of　flame　as　the　ice…crystals　in　the　air　flashed　across　its　path；　the　other；　a　broader　fan　of　light；　pointing　downwards　and　only　slightly　ahead；　its　oval　outline　flitting　across　the　frozen　snow　like　some　flickering　will　o'　the　wisp。　I　grabbed　Jackstraw's　arm　and　put　my　head　close　to　his。
　
　〃He's　going　to　land！　He's　looking　for　a　place　to　put　down。　Get　the　dogs；　harness　them　up。〃　We　had　a　tractor；　but　heaven　only　knew　how　long　it　would　have　taken　to　start　it　on　a　night　like　this。　〃I'll　give　you　a　hand　as　soon　as　I　can。〃
　
　He　nodded；　turned　and　was　lost　to　sight　in　a　moment。　I　turned　too；　cursed　as　my　face　collided　with　the　slatted　sides　of　the　instrument　shelter；　then　jumped　for　the　hatch；　sliding　down　to　the　floor　of　the　cabin　on　back　and　arms　without　bothering　to　use　the　steps。　Joss；　already　pletely　clad　in　his　furs　but　with　the　hood　of　his　parka　hanging　over　his　shoulders；　was　just　emerging　from　the　food　and　fuel　tunnel　which　led　off　from　the　other　end　of　the　cabin；　his　arms　loaded　with　equipment。
　
　〃Grab　all　the　warm　clothing　you　can　find；　Joss；〃　I　told　him　quickly。　I　was　trying　to　think　as　quickly　and　coherently　as　I　was　talking；　to　figure　out　everything　that　we　might　require；　but　it　wasn't　easy；　that　intense　cold　numbed　the　mind　almost　as　much　as　it　did　the　body。　〃Sleeping…bags；　blankets；　spare　coats；　shirts；　it　doesn't　matter　whose　they　are。　Shove　them　into　a　couple　of　gunny　sacks。〃
　
　〃You　think　they're　going　to　land；　sir？〃　Curiosity；　anticipation；　horror…each　struggled　for　supremacy　in　the　thin；　dark　intelligent　face。　〃You　really　think　so？〃
　
　〃I　think　they're　going　to　try。　What　have　you　got　there？〃
　
　〃Fire　bombs；　a　couple　of　Pyrenes。〃　He　dumped　them　by　the　stove。　〃Hope　they're　not　solid。〃
　
　〃Good　boy。　And　a　couple　of　the　tractor　extinguishers…the　Nu…Swifts；　G…1000；1　think。〃　A　great　help　these　little　things　are　going　to　be；　I　thought；　if　several　thousand　gallons　of　petrol　decide　to　go　up　in　flames。　〃Fire　axes；　crowbars；　canes；　the　homing　spool…for　heaven's　sake　don't　forget　the　hojning　spool…and　the　searchlight　battery。　Be　sure　and　wrap　that　up　well。〃
　
　〃Bandages？〃
　
　〃No　need。　Seventy　degrees　of　frost　will　freeze　blood　and　seal　a　wound　quicker　than　any　bandage。　But　bring　the　morphia　kit。　Any　water　in　these　two　buckets？〃
　
　〃Full。　But　more　ice　than　water。〃
　
　〃Put　them　on　the　stove…and　don't　forget　to　turn　out　the　stove　and　both　the　lights　before　you　leave。〃　Incongruously　enough；　we　who　could　survive　in　the　Arctic　only　by　virtue　of　fire；　feared　it　above　all　else。　〃Pile　the　rest　of　the　stuff　up　by　the　instrument　shelter。〃
　
　I　found　Jackstraw；　working　only　by　the　feeble　light　of　his　torch；　outside　the　lean…to　drift…walled　shelter　that　we　had　built　for　the　dogs　from　empty　packing　cases　and　an　old　tractor　tarpaulin。　He　appeared　to　be　fighting　a　losing　battle　in　the　centre　of　a　milling　pack　of　snarling　yelping　dogs；　but　the　appearance　was　illusion　only：　already　he　had　four　of　the　dogs　off　the　tethering　cable　and　the　sledge　tracelines　snapped　into　their　harness。
　
　〃How's　it　ing？〃　I　shouted。
　
　〃Easy。〃　I　could　almost　see　the　crinkling　grin　behind　the　snow…mask。　〃I　caught　most　of　them　asleep；　and　Balto　is　a　great　help…he's　in　a　very　bad　temper　at　being　woken　up。〃
　
　Balto　was　Jackstraw's　lead　dog…a　huge；　90…pound；　half…wolf；　half…Siberian；　direct　descendant　of；　and　named　for　the　famous　dog　that　had　trekked　with　Amundsen；　and　who　later；　in　the　terrible　winter　of　'25；　his　sledge…driver　blind　behind　him；　had　led　his　team　through　driving　blizzards　and　far　sub…zero　cold　to　bring　the　life…giving　anti…toxin　into　the　diphtheria…stricken　town　of　Nome；　Alaska。　Jackstraw's　Balto　was　another　such：　powerful；　intelligent；　fiercely　loyal　to　his　master…　although　not　above　baring　his　wolfs　fangs　as　he　made　a　token　pass　at　him　from　time　to　time　…and；　above　all；　like　all　good　lead　dogs；　a　ruthless　disciplinarian　with　his　team…mates。　He　was　exercising　that　disciplinary　authority　now…snarling；　pushing　and　none…too…gently　nipping　the　recalcitrant　and　the　slow…coaches；　quelling　insubordination　in　its　earliest　infancy。
　
　〃I'll　leave　you　to　it；　then。　I'll　get　the　searchlight。〃　I　made　off　towards　the　mound　of　snow　that　loomed　high　to　the　westward　of　the　cabin；　broke　step　and　listened。　There　was　no　sound　to　be　heard；　nothing　but　the　low…pitched　moan　of　the　wind　on　the　ice…cap；　the　eternal　rattling　of　the　anemometer　cups。　I　turned　back　to　Jackstraw；　my　face　bent　against　the　knifing　wind。
　
　〃The　plane…have　you　heard　the　plane；　Jackstraw？　I　can't　hear　a　thing。〃
　
　Jackstraw　straightened；　pulled　off　his　parka　hood　and　stood　still；　hands　cupped　to　his　ears。　Then　he　shook　his　head　briefly　and　replaced　the　hood。
　
　〃My　God！〃　I　looked　at　him。　〃Maybe　they've　crashed　already。〃
　
　Again　the　shake　of　the　head。
　
　〃Why　not？〃　I　demanded。　〃On　a　night　like　this　you　wouldn't　hear　a　thing　if　they　crashed　half　a　mile　downwind。〃
　
　〃I'd　have　felt　it；　Dr　Mason。〃
　
　I　nodded　slowly；　said　nothing。　He　was　right；　of　course。　The　frozen　surface　of　this　frozen　land　transmitted　vibration　like　a　tuning…fork。　Last　July；　seventy　miles　inland；　we　had　distinctly　felt　the　vibration　of　the　ice…cap　as　an　iceberg　had　broken　off　from　a　glacier　in　a　hanging　valley　and　toppled　into　the　fjord　below。　Maybe　the　pilot　had　lost　his　bearings；　maybe　he　was　flying　in　ever…widening　circles　trying　to　pick　up　our　lights　again；　but　at　least　there　was　hope　yet。
　
　I　hurried　across　to　where　the　tractor；　sheeted　in　tarpaulin；　lay　close　in　to　the　high　snow　wall　that　had　been　cut　down　the　middle　of　the　drift。　It　took　me　a　couple　of　minutes　to　clear　away　the　accumulated　snow　at　one　end　and　wriggle　in　under　the　tarpaulin。　There　was　no　question　of　trying　to　lift　it…its　impregnated　oils　had　frozen　solid　and　it　would　have　cracked　and　torn　under　any　pressure。
　
　The　searchlight；　fixed　to　a　couple　of　bolts　on　the　tractor　bonnet；　was　held　down　by　two　quick…release　butterfly　nuts。　In　these　latitudes；　quick…release　was　a　misnomer：　the　nuts　invariably　froze　after　even　the　briefest　exposure。　The　accepted　practice　was　to　remove　one's　gloves　and　close　mittened　hands　round　the　nuts　until　body　heat　warmed　and　expanded　them　enough　to　permit　unscrewing。　But　there　was　no　time　for　that　tonight：　I　tapped　the　bolts　with　a　spanner　from　the　tool　box　and　the　steel　pins；　made　brittle　by　the　intense　cold；　sheared　as　if　made　from　the　cheapest　cast　iron。
　
　I　crawled　out　at　the　foot　of　the　tarpaulin；　searchlight　clutched　under　one　arm；　and　as　soon　as　I　straightened　I　heard　it　again…the　roar　of　aero　engines；　closing　rapidly。　They　sounded　very　near；　very　low；　but　I　wasted　no　time　trying　to　locate　the　plane。　Head　lowered　against　the　wind　and　the　needle…sharp　lances　of　the　flying　ice；　I　felt　rather　than　saw　my　way　back　to　the　cabin　hatch　and　was　brought　up　short　by　Jackstraw's　steadying　hand。　He　and　Joss　were　busy　loading　equipment　aboard　the　sledge　and　lashing　it　down；　and　as　I　stooped　to　help　them　something　above　my　head　fizzled　and　spluttered　into　a　blinding　white　。re　that　threw　everything　into　a　harsh　black　and　white　relief　of　frozen　snow　and　impenetrable　shadow。　Joss；　remembering　what　I　had　pletely　forgotten…that　dousing　our　cabin　lights　would　have　robbed　the　pilot　of　his　beacon…had　ignited　a　magnesium　flare　in　the　slats　of　the　instrument　shelter。
　
　We　all　turned　as　the　plane　came　into　our　vision　again；　to　the　south；　and　it　was　at　once　apparent　why　we　had　lost　all　sight　and　sound　of　it。　The　pilot　must　have　made　a　figure　of　eight　turn　out　in　the　darkness；　had　reversed　his　approach　circle；　and　was　flying　from　east　to　west　less　than　two　hundred　feet　up；　undercarriage　still　retracted；　it　passed　within　a　couple　of　hundred　yards　of　us　like　some　monstrous　bird。　Both　headlights　were　now　dipped；　the　twin　beams　a　glitter　of　kaleidoscopic　light　in　the　ice…filled　darkness　of　the　sky；　the　twin　oval　pools　of　light　interlocking　now　and　very　bright；　racing　neck　and　neck　across　the　snow。　And　then　these　pools；　increasing　as　rapidly　in　size　as　they　diminished　in　strength；　slipped　away　to　the　left　as　the　plane　banked　sharply　to　the　right　and　came　curving　round　clockwise　to　the　north。　I　knew　now　what　the　pilot　was　intending　and　my　hands　clenched　helplessly　inside　mittens　and　gloves。　But　there　was　nothing　I　could　do　about　this。
　
　〃The　antenna！〃　I　shouted。　〃Follow　out　the　line　of　the　antenna。〃　I　stooped　and　gave　the　sledge　its　initial　shove　as　Jackstraw　shouted　at　Balto。　Joss　was　by　my　side；　head　close　to　mine。
　
　〃What's　happening？　Why　are　we…〃
　
　〃He's　ing　down　this　time。　I'm　sure　of　it。　To　the　north。〃
　
　〃The　north？〃　Not　even　the　snow…mask　could　hide　the　horror　in　his　voice。　〃He'll　kill　himself。　He'll　kill　all　of　them。　The　hummocks…〃
　
　〃I　know。〃　The　land　to　the　north…east　was　broken　and　uneven；　the　ice　raised　up　by　some　quirk　of　nature　into　a　series　of　tiny　hillocks；　ten；　twenty　feet　high；　tiny　but　the　only　ones　within　a　hundred　miles。　〃But　he's　going　to　do　it；　all　the　same。　A　belly　landing　with　the　wheels　up。　That's　why　he　reversed　his　circle。　He　wants　to　land　upwind　to　give　himself　the　minimum　stalling　ground　speed。〃
　
　〃He　could　land　to　the　south；　into　the　wind。〃　Joss　sounded　almost　desperate。　〃It's　a　billiard　table　there。〃
　
　〃He　could；　but　he　won't。〃　I　had　to　shout　the　words　to　make　myself　heard　above　the　wind。　〃He's　nobody's　fool。　He　knows　if　he　lands　to　windward　of　us；　even　a　hundred　yards　to　windward；　the　chances　of　finding　our　lights；　our　cabin；　in　this　weather　just　don't　exist。　He's　got　to　land　upwind。　He's　just　got　to。〃
　
　There　was　a　long　silence　as　we　staggered　forward；　head　and　shoulders　bent　almost　to　waist　ievel　against　the　wind　and　ice…filled　drift；　then　Joss　moved　close　again。
　
　〃Maybe　he'll　see　the　hummocks　in　time。　Maybe　he　can…〃
　
　〃He'll　never　see　them；〃　I　said　flatly。　〃Flying　into　this　stuff　he　can't　possibly　see　a　hundred　yards　in　front　of　him。〃
　
　The　radio　antenna；　rime…coated　now　to　almost　fifty　times　its　normal　size；　sagging　deeply　and　swaying　pendulum…like　in　the　wind　between　each　pair　of　fourteen…foot　poles　that　supported　it；　stretched　away　almost　250　feet　to　the　north。