alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第38部分

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　But　Balto　knew　where　he　was　going。　Sometime　during　the　night…it　might　have　been　any　time　between　midnight　and　three　o'clock　in　the　morning…he　stopped　suddenly；　stretched　out　his　neck　and　gave　his　long　eerie　wolf　call。　He　seemed　to　listen　for　an　answer；　and　if　he　heard　anything　it　was　beyond　our　range：　but　he　seemed　satisfied；　for　he　suddenly　changed　direction　and　angled　off　to　the　left　into　the　blizzard。　At　Jackstraw's　nod；　we　followed。
　
　Three　minutes　later　we　came　upon　the　dog…sledge；　with　two　of　the　dogs　curled　up　beside　it；　their　backs　to　the　wind；　their　muzzles　to　their　bellies　and　long　brushes　of　tails　over　their　faces；　the　drift　wailing　high　around　them。　They　were　fortable　enough…so　splendid　an　insulation　does　a　husky's　thick　coat　provide　that　snow　at　forty　degrees　below　zero　will　lie　on　its　back　indefinitely　without　being　melted　by　body　heat…but　they　preferred　freedom　to　fort；　for　they　were　on　their　feet　and　vanished　into　the　swirling　whiteness　beyond　before　we　could　lay　hands　on　them。　That　left　only　the　sledge。
　
　I　suppose　that　after　Smallwood　had　gone　far　enough　to　consider　that　we　would　never　be　able　to　reach　that　point；　he　had　cut　loose　dogs　and　dog…sledge　as　a　needless　encumbrance…but　not　before　he　had　severed　all　the　traces　attaching　the　dogs　to　the　sledge　and；　I　noticed　grimly；　removed　all　the　wraps　and　the　magnetic　pass　that　had　been　there。　He　thought　of　everything。　For　a　moment；　admiration　for　the　man's　undoubtedly　remarkable　qualities　came　in　to　supplant　what　had　bee　the　motivating　reason　for　my　existence；　a　reason　that；　as　the　hours　crawled　by；　were　crowding　out　even　the　feelings　I　had　for　Margaret　Ross：　my　hatred　for　Small　wood　burned　like　a　cold　steady　flame；　an　obsession　with　the　。　idea　of　sinking　my　fingers　into　that　scrawny　throat　and　never　Jetting　go。
　
　Within　three　minutes　of　finding　the　sledge　we　had　tied　together　the　severed　remnants　of　the　traces；　changed　them　to　the　front　and　were　on　our　way　again；　Marie　LeGarde；　Mahler　and　Helene　propped　up　on　the　thin　wooden　slats。　We　had；　of　course；　to　pull　the　sledge　ourselves；　but　that　was　nothing：　for　Jackstraw；　Zagero　and　myself；　the　relief　was　beyond　measure。　But　it　was　only　momentary。
　
　We　were　running　on　to　the　smooth；　slick　ice　of　the　Kangalak　glacier；　but　our　progress　was　no　faster　than　it　had　been　before　we　found　the　sledge。　The　wind　was　climbing　up　to　its　maximum　now；　the　blizzard　shrieking　along　horizontally　to　the　ground　and　ing　in　great　smoking　flurries　that　cut　visibility　to　zero　and　made　us　stop　and　grab　one　another　lest　one　of　us　be　knocked　flying　and　for　ever　lost　to　sight：　several　times　Theodore　Mahler；　restless　in　unconsciousness；　rolled　off　the　sledge　until　I　at　last　made　Brewster　sit　at　the　back　and　watch。　He　protested　violently；　but　he　was　glad　to　do　as　I　said。
　
　I　don't　remember　much　after　that；　I　think　I　must　have　been　unconscious；　eyes　shut；　but　still　plodding　along　in　my　sleep　on　leaden；　frozen　feet。　My　first　conscious　memory　after　installing　Brewster　on　the　back　of　the　sledge　was　of　someone　shaking　me　urgently　by　the　shoulder。　It　was　Jackstraw。
　
　〃No　more！〃　he　shouted　in　my　ear。　〃We　must　stop；　Dr　Mason；　wait　till　it's　blown　itself　out。　We　can't　live　through　this。〃
　
　I　said　something　that　was　unintelligible　even　to　myself；　but　Jackstraw　took　it　for　agreement　and　began　pulling　the　sledge　into　the　sloping　side　of　the　glacier　valley　and　to　the　leeward　side　of　one　of　the　snowdrifts　piled　up　against　some　of　the　ridges　on　the　side　of　the　valley。　It　wasn't　all　that　much　of　an　improvement；　but　the　wind　and　the　effect　of　the　blizzard　were　perceptibly　less。　We　unloaded　the　three　sick　people　on　the　sledge　into　what　pitiful　shelter　the　ridge　offered：　I　was　just　about　to　let　my　knees　buckle　and　collapse　beside　them　when　I　realised　that　someone　was　missing：　it　was　a　fair　indication　of　the　toll　taken　by　wind　and　cold　and　exhaustion　that　almost　twenty　seconds　passed　before　I　realised　it　was　Brewster。
　
　〃Good　God！〃　I　cried　in　Jackstraw's　ear。　〃The　Senator…we've　lost　him！　I'll　go　back　and　look。　I　won't　be　a　minute。〃
　
　〃Stay　here。〃　The　grip　on　my　arm　was　promise　enough　that　Jackstraw　meant　to　detain　me　by　force；　if　necessary。　〃You'd　never　e　back。　Balto！　Balto！〃　He　shouted　a　few　Eskimo　words　which　meant　nothing　to　me；　but　the　big　Siberian　seemed　to　understand；　for　he　was　gone　in　a　moment；　following　the　direction　of　Jackstraw's　pointing　hand。　He　was　back　again　inside　two　minutes。
　
　〃He's　found　him？〃　I　asked　Jackstraw。
　
　Jackstraw　nodded　silently。
　
　〃Let's　bring　him　in。〃
　
　Balto　led　us　there；　but　we　didn't　bring　him　in。　Instead　we　left　him　lying　where　we　found　him；　face　down　in　the　snow；　dead。　The　blizzard　was　already　drawing　its　concealing　shroud　over　him；　in　an　hour　he　would　be　no　more　than　a　featureless　white　mound　in　a　featureless　white　valley。　My　hands　were　too　numb　to　examine　him；　but　I　wouldn't　have　bothered　anyway：　the　half…century　of　self…indulgence　in　food　and　drink　and　temper；　all　of　which　had　been　so　clearly　reflected　in　the　heavy　florid　face　when　first　I'd　seen　him；　had　had　their　inevitable　way。　The　heart；　cerebral　thrombosis；　it　didn't　matter　now。　But　he　had　been　a　man。
　
　How　long　we　lay　there；　the　six　of　us　and　Balto　huddled　close　together　for　warmth；　unconscious　or　dozing　while　that　hurricane　of　a　blizzard　reached　then　passed　its　howling　crescendo；　I　never　knew。　Probably　only　half　an　hour；　perhaps　not　even　that。　When　I　awoke；　stiff　and　numbed；　I　reached　for　Jackstraw's　torch。　It　was　exactly　four　o'clock　in　the　morning。
　
　I　looked　at　the　others。　Jackstraw　was　wide　awake　…1　was　pretty　sure　he'd　never　shut　an　eye　lest　one　of　us　slip　away　from　sleep　into　that　easy　frozen　sleep　from　which　there　would　have　been　no　wakening…and　Zagero　was　stirring。　That　they…and　I…would　survive；　I　didn't　doubt。　Helene　was　a　question　mark。　A　seventeen…year…old；　though　short　on　endurance；　was　usually　high　on　resilience　and　recuperative　powers；　but　Helene's　seemed　to　have　deserted　her。　After　the　death　of　her　mistress　and　up　to　the　time　she　had　collapsed　she　had　bee　strangely　withdrawn　and　unresponsive；　and　I　guessed　that　the　death　of　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg　had　hit　her　far　more　than　any　of　us　would　have　guessed。　The　previous　forty…eight　hours　apart；　it　seemed　to　me　that　she　had　had　little　enough　to　thank　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg　for　in　the　way　of　affection　and　warmth：　but；　then；　she　was　young；　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg　had　been　the　person　she　had　known　best　and；　as　a　foreigner；　she　must　have　regarded　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg　as　her　sole　anchor　in　an　alien　sea。。。。　I　asked　Jackstraw　if　he　would　massage　her　hands；　then　turned　to　have　a　look　at　Mahler　and　Marie　LeGarde。
　
　〃They　don't　look　so　hot　to　me。〃　Zagero；　too；　was　studying　them。　〃What's　their　chances'；　Doc？〃
　
　〃I　just　don't　know；〃　I　said　wearily。　〃I　don't　know　at　all。〃
　
　〃Don't　take　it　to　heart；　Doc。　It's　no　fault　of　yours。〃　Zagero　waved　a　hand　towards　the　snow…filled　emptiness　and　desolation　of　the　glacier。　〃Your　dispensary　ain't　all　that　well　stocked。〃
　
　〃No。〃　I　smiled　faintly；　then　nodded　at　Mahler。　〃Bend　down　and　listen　to　his　breathing。　The　end's　ing　pretty　close。　Ordinarily　I'd　say　a　couple　of　hours。　With　Mahler　I　don't　know…he's　got　the　will　to　live；sheer　guts；his　beliefs…the　lot。。　。　。　But　in　twelve　hours　he'll　be　dead。〃
　
　〃And　how　long　do　you　give　me；　Dr　Mason？〃
　
　I　twisted　round　and　gazed　down　at　Marie　LeGarde。　Her　voice　was　no　more　than　a　weak；　husky　whisper：　she　was　trying　to　smile；　but　the　smile　was　a　pitiful　grimace　and　there　was　no　humour　in　either　the　eyes　or　the　voice。
　
　〃Good　lord；　you've　e　to！〃　I　reached　out；　pulled　off　her　gloves　and　started　to　massage　the　frozen　wasted　hands。　〃This　is　wonderful。　How　do　you　feel；　Miss　LeGarde？〃
　
　〃How　do　you　think　I　feel？〃　she　said　with　a　flash　of　her　old　spirit。　〃Don't　try　to　put　me　off；　Peter。　How　long？〃
　
　〃About　another　thousand　curtain　calls　at　the　old　Adelphi。〃　The　light　came　from　the　torch　that　had　been　thrust；　butt　down；　into　the　snow；　and　I　bent　forward　so　that　my　face　was　shadowed；　my　expression　unreadable。　〃Seriously；　the　fact　that　you've　recovered　consciousness　is　a　good　sign。〃
　
　〃I　once　played　a　queen　who　recovered　consciousness　only　to　speak　a　few　dramatic　words　before　she　died。　Only；　I　can't　think　of　any　dramatic　words。〃　I　had　to　strain　to　catch　the　feeble　whispered　words。　〃You're　a　shocking　liar；　Peter。　Is　there　any　hope　for　us　at　all？〃
　
　〃Certainly；〃　I　lied。　Anything　to　get　away　from　that　topic。　〃We'll　be　on　the　coast；　with　a　good　chance　of　being　picked　up　by　ship　or　plane；　tomorrow　afternoon…this　afternoon；　rather。　It　can't　be　more　than　twenty　miles　from　here。〃
　
　〃Twenty　miles！〃　Zagero　interjected。　〃In　this　little　lot？〃
　
　He　raised　a　cupped　hand　significantly　to　his　ear；　a　gesture　superbly　superfluous　in　the　ululating　shriek　of　the　blizzard。
　
　〃It　won't　last；　Mr　Zagero；〃　Jackstraw　put　in。　〃These　williwaws　always　blow　themselves　out　in　a　short　time。　This　already　has　gone　on　longer　than　most　and　it's　easing　a　lot。　Tomorrow　will　be　clear　and　calm　and　cold。〃
　
　〃The　cold　will　be　a　change；〃　Zagero　said'feelingly。　He　looked　past　me。　〃The　old　lady's　off　again；　Doc！〃
　
　〃Yes。〃　I　stopped　massaging　her　hands　and　slid　the　gloves　on。　〃Let's　have　a　look　at　these　paws　of　yours；　Mr　Zagero；　will　you？〃
　
　〃　'Johnny'　to　you；　Doc。　I've　been　dismissed　without　a　stain　on　my　character；　remember？〃　He　thrust　his　big　hands　out　for　inspection。　〃Pretty；　aren't　they？〃
　
　They　weren't　pretty；　they　were　the　worst　case　of　frostbite　I　had　ever　seen；　and　I　had　seen　all　too　many；　in　Korea　and　later。　They　were　white　and　yellow　and　dead。　The　original　skin　had　vanished　under　a　mass　of　blisters；　and　from　the　few　warm　spots　I　could　detect　on　either　hand　I　knew　that　much　of　the　tissue　had　been　permanently　destroyed。
　
　〃Fraid　I　was　a　mite　careless　with　my　gloves；〃　Zagero　said　apologetically。　〃In　fact；　I　lost　the　damn'　things　about　five　miles　back。　Didn't　notice　it　at　the　time…hands　were　too　cold；　I　reckon。〃
　
　〃Feel　anything　in　them　now？〃
　
　〃Here　and　there。〃　He　nodded　as　I　touched　some　spots　where　the　blood　still　flowed；　and　went　on　conversationally：　〃Am　I　goin'　to　lose　my　hands；　Doc？　Amputation；　I　mean？〃
　
　〃No。〃　I　shook　my　head　definitely。　I　saw　no　point　in　mentioning　that　some　of　his　fingers　were　beyond　hope。
　
　〃Will　I　ever　fight　again？〃　Still　the　same　casual；　careless　tone。
　
　〃It's　difficult　to　say。　You　never　know…〃
　
　〃Will　I　ever　fight　again？〃
　
　〃You'll　never　fight　again。〃
　
　There　was　a　long　pause；　then　he　said　quietly：　〃You're　sure；　Doc？　You're　absolutely　sure？〃
　
　〃I'm　absolutely　sure；　Johnny。　No　boxing　mission　doctor　in　the　world　would　ever　let　you　climb　into　a　ring。　It　would　cost　him　his　listing　in　the　Medical　Register。〃
　
　〃Okay；　so　that's　how　it　is。　Consolidated　Plastics　of　Trenton；　New　Jersey；　have　just　got　themselves　a　new　factory　hand：　this　boxin'　racket　was　too　damn'　strenuous　anyway。〃　There　was　no　regret　in　his　voice；　no　resignation　even；　but　that　meant　nothing：　like　me；　he　had　more　important　things　to　worry　about。　He　looked　away　into　the　darkness；　then　twisted　round：　〃What's　the　matter　with　that　hound　of　yours；　Jackstraw？〃
　
　〃I　don't　know。　I　think　I'd　better　find　out。〃　Twice　while　we　had　been　talking　B