village soon's I can; and here you drag and hang
back. You did it all, too. C'mon, you dam'
fool: I could get along twice as smart without you."

It seemed to Gordon Makimmon that, as he
walked, the hurt within him was consuming flesh
and bone; it was eating away his brain. The thick,
salty taste persisted in his mouth, nauseating him.

The light faded swiftly to a mysterious violet
glimmer in the sky, on the ground, a cold phosphorescence
that seemed to emanate from the ice.

Buckley Simmons could scarcely proceed; he fell,
and Gordon drew him sharply to his feet. Finally
Gordon put an arm about his shoulder, steadying
him, forcing him on. He must hurry, he realized,
while the other held him back, delayed the assistance
that Gordon so desperately needed.

"I tell you," he repeated querulously, "I got to
get along; something's broke inside. I'll leave
you," he threatened; "I'll let you sit right here and
go cold." It was an empty threat; he struggled on,
giving Buckley his support, his determination, sharing
the ebbing store of his strength.

As they neared the top of the mountain a flood
of light colder than the ice poured from behind.
The moon had risen, transforming the world into a
crystal miracle... Far below them was the
Greenstream valley, the village. They struggled
forward, an uncouth, slipping bulk, under the soar-

[[364]]

p363 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p364w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p365

v?