Rescue Dog of the High Pass

by Jim Kjelgaard

  4: NIGHT MISSION

  Hermann Gottschalk stood a moment, took a faltering step and almostfell. With a mighty effort, he stayed erect and spread his feet wide,the better to brace himself.

  Franz's father leaped from his chair, hurried to the youth, passed asteadying arm around his shoulders and escorted him to the chair he hadjust vacated. White-faced and trembling, Hermann sat limply down andleaned forward to grasp the edge of the table. Franz's father noddedtoward his mother.

  "Some wine please, Lispeth."

  Franz's mother was already at the wine cask. She drew a cup, brought itto the table, and the elder Halle held the cup to Hermann Gottschalk'slips. Hermann sipped, gasped mightily, took another sip, and the warmingwine did its work. He relaxed his hold on the table and sank back in thechair.

  "Tell us what happened," the elder Halle said gently.

  Hermann's voice was a husky whisper. "Father and I had to see the WidowGeiser. It was a fine morning and we expected no trouble as we startedout on our skis. The storm was upon us suddenly, and within minutes itwas so fierce that we could no longer see where we were going. It wassome time before we knew we must have gone beyond the Widow Geiser'sand--"

  Franz's father let him rest a moment and then, "Go on," he urged.

  "We turned back to Dornblatt, but again we were unable to see where wewere going or guide ourselves by landmarks. Father became very tired. Hefell, then fell again. Finally, he cried, 'I can go no farther! Saveyourself!' I tried to carry him and could not. I knew I must get help."

  "What time did you leave your father?" the elder Halle asked.

  "I cannot be certain, but think it might have been an hour before nightfell," Hermann answered. "I went on, though I could not be sure at anytime that I was coming to Dornblatt. Then I heard a dog bark and guidedmyself by the sound."

  Franz's father asked, "How long ago was that?"

  "Again I cannot be sure, but I was no great distance from Dornblatt.Immediately after hearing the dog, I broke a ski. Since that made theremaining ski useless, I threw both away and plowed through the snow. Ittook me much longer to reach the village than it would have had the skinot broken."

  Franz pondered the information. Emil and Hermann Gottschalk could havegone to the Widow Geiser's only to evict her, and trust Emil to waituntil after all crops were harvested and stored! But that was in thepast. For the present, a man was lost in the storm.

  Franz thought over the affair from every angle. It was probable thatHermann and his father had gone a considerable distance past the WidowGeiser's before they realized they were lost and turned back. On thereturn trip, they had set a reasonably accurate course. Hermann had lefthis father an estimated hour before nightfall. Soon after darknessdescended, or approximately within the past forty-five minutes, abarking dog had guided him to Dornblatt.

  However, probably, since leaving his father his rate of travel had beenthat of an exhausted youngster. He had also broken a ski, which, by hisown admission, was responsible for more delay. Emil Gottschalk, Franzdecided, was approximately forty-five-minutes' skiing time fromDornblatt and the proper direction in which to seek him was toward theWidow Geiser's.

  But there were so many other possibilities that entered the picture.Just how far beyond the Widow Geiser's were Hermann and his father whenthey turned back? Or were they beyond her place at all? In such a storm,with both lost and neither able to see, it would be comparatively easyto travel up the slope, and, without ever reaching the Widow Geiser'sfarm, both Hermann and his father might be sincerely convinced that theywere far past it. Or had they gone down the slope? Or--

  The elder Halle turned to his son. "You know what we must do?"

  "I know," answered Franz.

  "What route do you intend to follow?" his father asked.

  "I'll work toward the Widow Geiser's with Caesar," Franz told him. "I'lltry to retrace the path I think Hermann might have followed. If we donot find Mr. Gottschalk, I'll cast back and forth with Caesar anddepend on his nose."

  "A good plan," his father said, "and, since you are the only one who hasa dog that might be depended upon to find a lost man, it will be bestfor you to work as you see fit. I'll rouse the villagers and we'llsearch the same area, with each man assigned to his own route. Take mypistol, for when Emil is found, one shot will announce to all that thesearch is ended and at the same time bring help. I will carry my rifleand signal with it."

  "Loan me some skis!" Hermann pleaded. "I would search, too!"

  "No," Franz's father said. "You are near exhaustion and, should youventure out before you've rested, there will be two lost in the storm.Stay here and rest in Franz's bed."

  Franz stole a glance at his former classmate, who had always seemed suchan awful snob but toward whom he could now feel only sympathy. Facedwith a grave problem, Hermann had been courageous enough, and, despitethe fact that some villagers would be sure to consider the entireincident a judgment of God because Emil Gottschalk would haveimpoverished the Widow Geiser, Franz knew that it was only a judgment ofthe storm.

  In Dornblatt, few winters ran their course without someone gettinglost--and not all were found. Franz was glad that his father had said,in Hermann's hearing, "when Emil is found," and not, "if he is found."

  Franz put on his ski boots and his heavy coat with the hood, and thrusthis father's immense, brass-bound, bell-mouthed pistol into his belt.Franz Halle the elder dressed in a similar fashion, slung the rifle overhis shoulder, and the pair left the house together.

  Comfortable in their stable beneath the house, the cattle stamped theirhoofs, munched their fodder and never cared how much snow fell. Caesarsprang from his snow tunnel, shook himself, and came forward to push hisnose into Franz's mittened hand.

  The two Halles took their skis from beneath the overhanging ledge, wherethey were stored when not in use, and harnessed them to ski boots. A skipole in either hand, the elder Halle paused a moment before setting outto rouse the able-bodied men and boys from Dornblatt's snow-shroudedhouses.

  He said, "We will come as quickly as possible," and was gone.

  Franz waited another moment. Within fifteen minutes, or twenty at themost, all Dornblatt would know of the lost man and all who were ablewould be in the search. But there was something else here, somethingmore sensed than seen or felt.

  His father had declared that he, Franz, was fit only for cutting wood.But it was quite evident now that the elder Halle also thought his son acapable man in the mountains. If he did not, he would never let him gooff alone on a night such as this.

  A pride that he had seldom felt--or seldom had reason to feel--swelledwithin Franz. He was no scholar and he was a complete dolt at mostskills and crafts. But it was no small thing to be considered anaccomplished mountaineer.

  Caesar, who might easily have broken trail, was too sensible to do sowhen he might follow the trail already broken by Franz's skis. He stayedjust far enough behind to avoid stepping on the tail of either ski.

  Franz let him remain there for now. Emil Gottschalk would surely befarther from Dornblatt than this. When the time came, and Caesar wasordered to go ahead, he'd do it.

  A minute afterwards, the falling snow hid the village as completely asthough it had never been and Franz and Caesar were alone in the night.The boy remained undisturbed. He had never feared the mountains or theforest and he was not afraid now.

  He started southward, traveling downslope, for the wind screamed fromthe north and Hermann Gottschalk had been guided into Dornblatt by adog's bark. Even Caesar's thunderous bark would be heard at no greatdistance against such a wind. But any sound would carry a long way withit. Hermann must have come in from the south.

  Just how far south had he been when he heard the dog bark? Hermannhimself did not know. But when he turned toward the barking dog, inaddition to plowing through deep snow, he had been fighting an uphillslope and a powerful wind. Without skis, his progress must have beenpainfully slow. Therefore, he could have been no great distance from thevillage.


  Franz curled the hood of his jacket around his face to keep flying snowout of his eyes. It made little difference as far as visibility wasconcerned, for, in the stormy night, he could see less than the lengthof a ski pole anyhow.

  Except for those who were too old or disabled, everybody in Dornblattmust use skis or remain housebound from the time the deep snows felluntil they melted. Most were past masters of ski travel, but Franz hadan extra touch, an inborn feeling for snow, that set him apart. He wasnot afraid of becoming lost or of breaking a ski, as Hermann Gottschalkhad, probably when he blundered into a tree trunk.

  _Caesar stayed just far enough behind to avoid steppingon the tail of either ski_]

  When Franz thought he had gone far enough south, he turned west, towardthe Widow Geiser's. Again he used his mountain lore and knowledge ofsnow to analyze what might have happened.

  Leaving his father, Hermann probably had tried to set a straight course.Undoubtedly the powerful wind had made that impossible. While Hermannthought he was traveling due east, he had also gone slightly south.Franz set a course that would take him slightly north of west.

  Now he must consider Emil Gottschalk. Even though he was lost in thestorm, Emil, a lifelong resident of Dornblatt, was not one to surrendereasily, and he would know what to do. Even though he was unable tostand, he would crawl to the lee of a boulder or copse of trees and letthe snow cover him. His own warm breath would melt a hole and assure asupply of air. Even though such a bed was not the most comfortable onemight imagine, any man buried beneath snow would never freeze to death.

  Franz made a mental map of all the boulders or copses of trees on thecourse he was taking that Emil might seek. When he thought he wasreasonably near the place where Emil lay, he began to zigzag uphill ordown, depending on which was necessary to reach each of the shelters hehad already marked in his own mind.

  Whenever he came to such a place, he watched Caesar closely. But at notime did the dog indicate that there was anything worth his interest.Franz passed the farthest point where he had calculated he might findEmil Gottschalk.

  In all this time, he did not see any of the other searchers, but thatwas not surprising. The area to be covered was a vast one. Also, someonemight have passed fairly close in the snow-filled darkness and would nothave seen or heard him.

  He began to worry, but kept on for another half hour, for Emil might befarther away than he had thought possible. Finally, sure that he hadpassed the lost man, Franz climbed higher up the mountain and turnedback toward Dornblatt.

  Now he set a course south of east, trying as he did so to determineexactly how far the wind might have veered Hermann from a true course.His anxiety mounted when he found nothing.

  At what Franz estimated was two hours past midnight, the snow stoppedfalling and the stars shone. Now there was light, and, even though itwas only star-glow, it seemed dazzling when compared with the intensedarkness that had been. Franz set a new course, back toward the WidowGeiser's.

  He was descending into a gulley when Caesar stopped trailing and plungedahead. Plowing his own path with powerful shoulders, he went up thegulley to a wind-felled tree that cast a dark shadow.

  On the tree's near side, Caesar began to scrape in the snow. Franz kneltto help, removing his mittens and digging with bare hands. He feltcloth, then a ski boot.

  Franz rose and fired the pistol that would bring help from the men ofDornblatt. Then he resumed a kneeling position and continued to helpCaesar dig Emil Gottschalk from his snowy couch.