Page:Rowland--The Mountain of Fears.djvu/46

  sharp, purple shadows into the numberless seams and fissures eroded in the crumbling crust; it flashed as it had each evening and glowed redly; high above, as the sun sank lower, the quartz beds threw back the deepening azure of the sky.

Perhaps it is gold,' said I, 'that bright stuff which glitters so; at any rate there is gold to be had for the taking, while we lie here and bloat and rot and waken screaming in the night. To-morrow we must go up.'

" 'I'm no fit mysel', lad,' said MacFarlane. 'I hae the fever; I maun rest.'

You will rest here through eternity,' said I, 'if you do not come away at once. You are yellow as a Chinaman and there's not a line left in your face.' And with the aid of the girl I set about preparing a meal."

Leyden sucked in his breath sharply—filled his deep lungs like a man coming out of the dense, polluted atmosphere of a crowded car or clinic.

"That night I awoke thrice, and each time [ 30 ]