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To cross by the connecting bridge which I have just spoken about was, to say the least of it, a precarious proceeding. But it would save us a mile or two, and in our tired state this was worth considering. After a minutes rest we placed the sledge on this ice bridge, and, as Crean described it afterwards, "We went along the crossbar to the H of Hell." It was not all misnamed either, for Lashly, who went ahead, dared not walk upright. He actually sat astride the bridge and was paid out at the end of our Alpine rope. He shuffled his way across, fearful to look down into the inky blue chasm below, but he fixed his eyes on the opposite wall of ice and hoped the rope would be long enough to allow him to reach it and climb up, for he never would have dared to come back. The cord was sufficient in length, and he contrived finally to make his way on to the top of the ridge before him. He then turned round and looked scaredly at Crean and myself. I think all of us felt the tension of the moment, but we wasted no time in commencing the passage. The method of procedure was this. The sledge rested on the narrow bridge which was indeed so shaped that the crest only admitted of the runners resting one on each side of it; the slope away was like an inverted "V" and while Lashly sat gingerly on the opposite ridge, hauling carefully but not too strongly on the rope, Crean and I, facing one another, held on to the sledge sides, balancing the whole concern. It was one of the most exciting moments of our lives. We launched the sled across foot by foot as I shouted "One, Two, Three Heave." Each time the signal was obeyed we got nearer to the opposite ice slope. The balance was preserved, of course, by Crean and myself, and we had to exercise a most careful judgment. Neither of us spoke, except for the launching signal, but each looked steadfastly into the other's eyes nor did we two look down. A false movement might have precipitated the whole gang and the sledge itself into the blue-black space of awful depth beneath. The danger was very real, but this crossing was necessary to our final safety. As in other cases of peril, the tense quiet of the moment left its mark on the memories of our party for ever. Little absurd details attracted all our attention, for instance, I noticed the ruts in the cheeks of my grimy vis-
Tedge turned from his bow seat to look past the oarsman's head at the engineman. "Yeh knowed " "This Rogers, he was tryin' to get off the burnin' wreck and he fell, somehow or " "The oil tank blew, and a piece o' pipe took him," grunted Tedge. "I tried to drag him out o' the fire Gawd knows I did, didn't I, Crump?" Crump nodded scaredly.
There was to be a box for "Who Did It?" and a visit behind scenes between acts. "I want to get a look-in on what goes on behind there," specified Mrs. Becker through a sniff. "Fine mess!" From where he sat with crossed knees and his nicely polished shoes far out so that passers-by were forced to a small detour, Albert looked suddenly across at his mother-in-law, rather scaredly white.
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