"Walk!" exclaimed the miner, grimly. "It's th' only way!"
They realized that. There was no hope of digging through that mass
of fantastically piled ice to reach the airship, and, even if they
could have done so, it would have been crushed beyond all hope of
repair. Nor could they dig down for more food, though what they had
hastily saved was little enough.
"Well, if we've got to go, we'd better start," suggested Tom, sadly.
"Poor old RED CLOUD!"
"Maybe we can get a little more gold," suggested Ned.
They walked over to the hole whence they had taken the yellow
nuggets. The "pocket" was not to be seen. It was buried out of sight
under tons of ice.
"We'll get no more gold here," decided Abe, "lf we get safely out of
th' valley, and t' the nearest white settlement, we'll be lucky."
"Bless my soul! Is it as bad as that!" cried Mr. Damon.
Abe nodded without speaking. There was nothing else to do. Sadly and
silently they made up into packs the things they had saved, and
started southward, guided by a small compass the miner had with him.
It was a melancholy party. Fortunately the weather had turned a
little warmer or they might have been frozen to death. They tramped
all that day, shaping their course to take them out of the valley on
a side well away from where the hostile natives lived.
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