The group was quiet, with each of the men taking a turn carrying the trunk, and everyone falling into bed exhausted at the end of a long day. By lunchtime on the second day, they were growing closer to the Iskut River, maybe even close enough to reach it by nightfall.
Or at least that’s what Mikhail had been hoping, but then they reached a place where two mountains met in a rocky pinch, their slopes converging in a narrow pass where deep drifts of snow had settled. They didn’t need to trek up another mountain to reach the river, but they did need to navigate through the valley and up the rocky slope leading out of it.
He set down the front of the trunk at the edge of the forest and carefully scanned the landscape. They had two options. They could stick to the high side of the ravine and look for a place where the snow was less deep before trying to cross. Or they could plow ahead, using whatever energy they had left to get across the drifts and see how close that got them to the river.
Heath set down the rear of the trunk and wiped his forehead with the back of his glove. “Call me lazy, but I really don’t want to try crossing that.”
“I thought you said at lunch that you were hoping we could make it to the river before dark.” Bryony tromped up beside them, her breath puffing white in the icy air. “Isn’t the river just over the next rise? Surely you don’t want to stop when we’re so close.”
Mikhail didn’t know how close they were, not exactly. He scanned the slopes again, waiting for Dr. Wetherby, Dr. Ottingford, and Richard to reach them before he pointed to the left side of the valley, which appeared to have a gentler incline. “I think our best option is to cross the pass here and take the western route on the other side. It won’t be as steep on our ascent, but the snow is going to be deep in the middle.”
“I still say we camp for the night and cross in the morning.” Heath bent forward and rested his arms on his legs, still trying to catch his breath after carrying the trunk. “I’m tired.”
“I want to press on,” Dr. Wetherby said, even though his chest was heaving just as hard as Heath’s. “I’d like to get as close to the river as possible tonight. Richard? Ottingford? What do you say?”
Mikhail agreed with Dr. Wetherby, but he wasn’t going to push the team. If the party was too exhausted to cross the snow-filled ravine, they might be better off resting and crossing it tomorrow, even if it meant the snow would be deeper.
“I say we at least attempt to cross.” Dr. Ottingford readjusted his wire-rimmed spectacles to survey the area. “If it becomes too difficult, we can head back here to the trees and set up camp.”
“If we try to cross, then I’ll need someone else to carry the trunk.” Heath dipped his head toward the heavy burden. “I’m exhausted.”
“The snow will only be deeper tomorrow. I say we try to cross now too.” Richard picked up the back of the trunk, then nodded toward Mikhail to heft the front.
Mikhail lifted it by the rope handle. “Since no trees are growing here, I’m assuming rock lies beneath the snow. Look out for any boulders or crevices that might be buried.” The last thing they needed was a broken leg this close to the river.
He started off by heading southwest, straight down into the snow piled in the deepest part of the valley. The moment he left the shield of trees, wind barreled into him, rushing through the rocky tunnel that the valley created. He ducked his head against it, raising his legs higher as the snow grew deeper.
They trudged onward for over an hour. Eventually the snow grew so deep that they pushed the trunk across the surface rather than carrying it, but somehow they managed to avoid any large boulders or other dangers.
Then they began the trek up the other side. It was grueling. Even though the snow gradually lessened, the slope was steep enough that they had to pause for several breaks. Mikhail found himself breathing hard, and the wind drove a constant barrage of snow into his face. But they pressed forward, stopping when needed as the drifts gradually became smaller.
But when they finally reached the bare spot he’d seen from the opposite side of the valley, they found patches of ice and frozen snow littering the next part of the slope. He gripped the trunk even harder, keeping his eyes riveted on the rocky ground as he wove his way up to the top of the incline.
His muscles burned and his lungs fought for breath against the lashing wind. But then he crested the slope, and the world fell away to reveal a thick green valley with a silvery strip of water snaking its way through the trees.
Thank you, Father.They were so very close now. All they had to do was reach the river and paddle their canoes downstream until the Iskut met the Stikine and turned toward the ocean.
He set down the trunk and reached for his canteen. “Do you see the river there in the distance?”
Richard set the back of the trunk down and took a sip of water from his own canteen, his shoulders heaving.
“I wondered if I’d ever see it again.” Bryony came up beside him, her chest also rising and falling in quick, deep breaths as she scanned the valley below. Then she reached out and gripped his sleeve. “Thank you. I don’t think any of us would have made it if not for you.”
Their eyes caught. Behind them he could hear Dr. Wetherby and Dr. Ottingford congratulating each other, but Mikhail couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from Bryony. He’d promised her he’d get her safely back to Sitka, and now the hardest part of their journey was over.
He wasn’t sure whether he should pick her up and twirl her around or hug her. Or even lean down and press his lips to?—
“I’m just as happy as the rest of you that we can see the river,” Heath said over the others. “But how are we going to get across that giant crack in the mountain?”
“What crack?” Mikhail dragged his gaze away from Bryony, only to find Heath pointing at a fissure running through the mountain. It was hard to see at first, with the wind whipping into their faces and the ground covered in another blanket of white.
But it was there, partway down the side of the incline, right in front of where the trees started again.
Mikhail headed toward it, carefully picking his way over the snow and keeping every sense alert lest he slip and tumble to his death.Dear God, don’t let it be as long as it looks. Help it be crossable, please.
But the nearer he drew, the more certain he was that they couldn’t cross it. Though the gorge was only about twenty feet wide, sheer rock walls plummeted into a ribbon of icy water far below, and it extended as far as he could see on either side.
“It’s almost as though the side of the mountain cracked open.”
