Rescue Dog of the High Pass

by Jim Kjelgaard

  9: THE BLIZZARD

  The girl and the boy drew a little nearer to Father Benjamin. Theirfaith showed in their eyes, as though nothing ill could befall themwhile they were under the guardianship of a priest from the Hospice. TheAugustinian, their actions said, might even halt the blizzard by raisinghis hand and commanding it to stop.

  But the elderly man, who had spent his life in the mountains and knewthe real danger of such storms, cried out in fear. His frightcommunicated itself to the woman ... and spread from her to the boy andgirl, who would not have been afraid at all had they not seen forthemselves that their elders were frightened.

  Father Benjamin took instant, firm command.

  "Have you never before seen snow fall?" he thundered. "Be quiet and actsensibly!"

  "Yes, Holy Father," the elderly man said humbly.

  Father Benjamin turned to Franz. "I will guide. You bring up the rearwith Caesar."

  Franz fought to keep his voice from trembling as he replied, "Yes,Father Benjamin."

  He let the others pass and fell in behind. He knew that Father Benjaminwanted him there to keep the little group from straying or straggling,and he was proud to be trusted with such responsibility. At the sametime, he was more than a little afraid.

  The winter snows in Dornblatt had been fierce enough; often it wasimpossible to see the house next to that in which one lived. But thesnows of Dornblatt had remained within the scope of human understanding,and humans had always been able to cope with the worst of them.

  This was a wild beast uncaged, a snarling, raging thing that had burstthe bonds of control the instant it began. With the blizzard onlyminutes old, already they were walking in snow that came halfway to thetops of their shoes. Though each person stayed as close as possible tothe one in front of him, Franz could barely make out the form of FatherBenjamin, who was leading the way.

  He had a sudden, terrifying thought that they were just mites, specks ofdust in an inferno of snow. The mad wind would whirl them away as itwhirled the snowflakes. When the wind finally lulled and dropped themsomewhere in the immensity of the Alps, they would still be as nothing,for a human being is small indeed compared with a mountain.

  Resolutely Franz put such fears behind him. Man's body, and that alone,had never conquered the Alps or anything else. Man's spirit was the trueconqueror, and spirit would see them safely through this blizzard. Thethought gave back to him his old serenity and calmness.

  The girl, walking in front of him, slipped and almost went down. Franzcaught her elbow and helped her regain her balance.

  "Careful, little sister!" he shouted, to make himself heard above thewind. "The snow is a cold bed!"

  She turned and gave him a grateful smile, and Franz knew that hisrecovered confidence had imparted itself to her. They hurried to catchup with the others, who had gained a few feet. Franz lookedquestioningly at Father Benjamin.

  Fortunately, the wind was blowing up the mountain, so that they did nothave to fight it. But cross currents and gusty little side eddies blewthe snow in every imaginable direction. There was no landmark whatever;even the peaks were hidden. Franz, who had been this way many times,knew that he himself hadn't the faintest notion as to whether or notthey were on the path. Did Father Benjamin know?

  Again he put the thought behind him. Regardless of anything else, FatherBenjamin must _act_ as though he knew. Just as he had exploded thetravelers' fears with the thunder of his words when the blizzard began,so he must now inspire them with confidence by showing confidencehimself. To do otherwise meant panic, and panic meant that all werelost.

  Father Benjamin plowed through a knee-deep drift and halted. The othersgrouped around him.

  "We will have a short rest." Even though the Augustinian had to shout,he seemed as serene and unruffled as though he were addressing some ofhis fellow priests at the Hospice. "This is the first snow and we mayvery well get along without skis. But it is foolish to exhaustourselves."

  "_Salvezza!_" the old man moaned. "Salvation! Or shall we find any?"

  The woman said, but with no great conviction, "This good Father willlead us safely to the Hospice."

  "He cannot!" asserted the old man.

  The young girl said, half-contemptuously, "You have no faith."

  Father Benjamin spoke kindly to the frightened old man. "Be of goodcheer, Grandfather, for in a short time we will be at the Hospice. Afteryou have rested, go to the Chapel and give thanks to our good SaintBernard, who founded the Hospice so that travelers such as you mightlive."

  "I, too, shall give thanks to Saint Bernard," the girl declaredconfidently.

  "And I," the boy echoed.

  Father Benjamin turned again to the frightened old man. "Can you fearwhen mere children cannot? Let us go."

  With Caesar beside him, Franz took his place at the rear. He turned hishead constantly from side to side, hoping for a break in the draperiesof snow that hid all save that which was immediately before him. Ifthere were such a rift, even for a second, he might see a familiarboulder, cluster of boulders, or mountain peak that would tell him theywere on the path.

  He had a growing fear that they were not, for who could find a path in astorm such as this? The landscape changed beneath his very eyes. Adrift that had been was suddenly no longer when the wind blew it intosnow dust. A drift that had not been was present when the snow-ladenwind wearied of its burden and dropped it.

  Franz placed a hand on Caesar's head and found in the massive dog thecomfort he never failed to discover there. He and Caesar had faced manystorms together, though none had been as terrible as this. But, asFather Benjamin had said, it was just a snowstorm.

  Suddenly, Caesar left Franz's side, bounded ahead, hurled himself onFather Benjamin, seized the priest's habit in his great jaws, and pulledhim over backwards.

  For a moment, Franz stood petrified, too astonished to even move. Thefour travelers stared, unable at once to understand what had happened orwhat they were staring at.

  Franz recovered his wits and ran forward. He knelt beside FatherBenjamin and Caesar, who maintained a firm grip on the priest's robe,and shouted, "I'm sorry, Father Benjamin! I do not know why Caesar woulddo such a terrible thing!"

  "Make him let me go!" Father Benjamin's voice was stern and indignant.

  _Suddenly, Caesar left Franz's side, bounded ahead andseized the priest's habit in his great jaws_]

  "Let go, Caesar!" Franz commanded. "Let go, I say!"

  Caesar closed his eyes, took a firmer grip and dragged Father Benjaminsix inches backwards through the snow. The angry priest turned tograpple with him.

  There was a soft hissing, as though a thousand snowflakes had fallen ona hot stove all at the same time. A bridge of snow, upon which FatherBenjamin would have walked had he taken one more forward step, fell inand revealed the yawning chasm across which it had formed.

  Caesar released his grip on Father Benjamin's habit, sat down beside thepriest, and licked his hand with an apologetic tongue.

  "He knew!" Father Benjamin gasped. "That is why he pulled me back!"

  Franz said, "Caesar always knows the safe trails."

  "Then you should have told us so, little Franz," Father Benjamin said.

  "I had not wanted to trespass upon your authority," the boy explained.

  Father Benjamin said, "When lives are at stake, it is never a questionof authority but one of common sense. Can Caesar guide us safely fromhere?"

  Franz answered unhesitatingly, "Yes."

  "Then let him lead."

  Franz said, "Go, Caesar."

  The great mastiff struck off at a thirty-degree angle to the course theyhad been following. He broke a drift with his massive shoulders.

  "I am done," the old man wailed piteously. "Leave me and go on."

  Father Benjamin said, "We will rest."

  "I am truly spent!" the old man cried. "I cannot walk another step."

  Franz staggered through a drift already broken by Caesar and groped withhis hands. They found a bric
k wall.

  It was the Hospice.