Prev | Current Page 116 | Next

Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"

I clapped my hand to my own belt instinctively, and found
it empty both of knife and gun! For a moment we stood in silence;
then:
"Have you got yours?" he demanded.
When I told him no he let out an oath.
His gun was gone, also. We debated the matter, and decided that
to attempt a search would be a useless waste of time; it was next
to certain that the weapons had been lost in the water when we
had first plunged in. And so, doubly handicapped by this new
loss, we again set out.
There was but one encouragement allowed to us: we were no longer
in total darkness. Gradually our eyes were becoming accustomed to
the absence of light; and though we could by no means see
clearly, nor even could properly be said to see at all, still we
began to distinguish the outlines of walls several feet away;
and, better than that, each of us could plainly mark the form and
face of the other.
Once we stood close, less than a foot apart, for a test; and when
Harry cried eagerly, "Thank Heaven, I can see your nose!" our
strained feelings were relieved by a prolonged burst of genuine
laughter.
There was little enough of it in the time that followed, for our
sufferings now became a matter not of minutes or hours, but of
days.


Pages:
104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128