Page 545 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

someone cry out ‘Christ!’ and awakes, sweating ice.
No one but Gabbett and Greenhill would eat that night.
That savage pair, however, make a fire, fling ghastly frag-
ments on the embers, and eat the broil before it is right
warm. In the morning the frightful carcase is divided.
That day’s march takes place in silence, and at midday halt
Cornelius volunteers to carry the billy, affecting great res-
toration from the food. Vetch gives it to him, and in half an
hour afterwards Cornelius is missing. Gabbett and Green-
hill pursue him in vain, and return with curses. ‘He’ll die
like a dog,’ said Greenhill, ‘alone in the bush.’ Jemmy Vetch,
with his intellect acute as ever, thinks that Cornelius may
prefer such a death, but says nothing.
The twelfth morning dawns wet and misty, but Vetch,
seeing the provision running short, strives to be cheerful,
telling stories of men who have escaped greater peril. Vetch
feels with dismay that he is the weakest of the party, but has
some sort of ludicro-horrible consolation in remembering
that he is also the leanest. They come to a creek that after-
noon, and look, until nightfall, in vain for a crossing-place.
The next day Gabbett and Vetch swim across, and Vetch di-
rects Gabbett to cut a long sapling, which, being stretched
across the water, is seized by Greenhill and the Moocher,
who are dragged over.
‘What would you do without me?’ said the Crow with a
ghastly grin.
They cannot kindle a fire, for Greenhill, who carries the
tinder, has allowed it to get wet. The giant swings his axe in
savage anger at enforced cold, and Vetch takes an opportu-

For the Term of His Natural Life