by Alan Skinner
Copper gave Dot a look of admiration. He took out his own knife and in a few minutes everyone was carrying a pair of strong walking poles.
The sun set early, masked by the peaks behind them. They were between the two peaks and, as the sun paled, they searched for a suitable place to camp for the night. The ground was hard and rocky and the freezing east wind blew through the gap between the mountains. When it was almost too dark to see, they still hadn’t found a suitable place to camp.
‘We’ll have to camp here,’ said Crimson. ‘There’s a ledge over to the left. That will provide some cover for us.’
The ledge jutted some dozen paces from the mountain. Underneath, the rock face was slightly concave, forming a small pocket where they were out of the wind. It would be cramped but that would help them stay warm. Copper secured the sledge to a small bush at the mouth of the hollow while the others searched for some wood to make a fire.
That night, they huddled together, warmed only by the hot coffee they brewed on the fire. In the light of a lantern, they ate a cold meal washed down by the hot coffee.
‘There’s not enough wood to keep the fire going for the night,’ said Grunge. ‘Put the sleeping bags close together for warmth.’
The sleeping bags were laid in a row on the rocky ground. Copper and Grunge gallantly took position at the two ends of the row, while Miniver stretched out at their feet. While the fire slowly flickered and died, the travellers snuggled deep in their sleeping bags and tried to sleep.
Crimson lay awake. Since her resolve at the river, the voices calling had ceased and the heavy weight on her chest had evaporated. What remained, though, was the feeling that she was being pulled towards something. She could feel a connection to … something. Crimson pulled the sleeping bag around her as snugly as she could. Despite the cold, hard ground beneath her, sleep finally came.
The first rays of the sun filled the little hollow. One by one, they woke and made ready for the day. They decided to leave the sledge where it was, and split into two parties to search for a way between the two mountains. For two hours they scouted in vain. They returned to the camp despondent. It appeared they had little choice but to keep heading south in the hope of finding a way through.
While Miniver was being put in her harness, Grunge decided to climb onto the ledge. It was an easy climb, the craggy rock providing plenty of footholds. He hauled himself up and surveyed the land around him. The early-morning sun flooded the valley between the two peaks and the valley beyond. A short distance to the north-east was the snowfield. He couldn’t see around the mountain to get a glimpse of the peak with the blue ice, but it was heartening to see the snowfield so close. The only trouble is, he thought, we can’t get to it.
Grunge walked to the far end of the ledge, where it came to an abrupt end at a high rock wall. He stood at the foot of the wall and his eyes travelled up the rock face towering above him. It would be impossible to get the sledge up there, let alone Miniver. He turned to go back to his companions and stared. The ledge seemed to … His heart beating faster, Grunge walked into the mountain.
More than twenty minutes had passed since Crimson finished putting the harness on Miniver and Grunge had not come down from the ledge. Brian fretted. He imagined that Grunge had fallen off the mountain or was stuck in a crevice or had been plucked from the ledge by a giant eagle that even now was feeding the Muddle to its young … For a sensible Factotum, Brian had a very active imagination at times.
The soles of Grunge’s boots appeared above their heads, and then his face beamed down at them.
‘The ledge!’ he cried to his friends, squatting down. ‘It goes into the mountain and to a track beyond!’ He stood, excited. And promptly fell off the ledge. Fortunately, this was not an unfamiliar occurrence for Grunge and as the ledge was no higher than the pole in Home’s firehouse, he landed without injury – or dignity.
Grunge brushed himself down, and the others crowded around as he explained. The ledge went into a gap formed by fallen boulders and came out a few feet on the other side. From there, it wound up and around the mountain. Grunge had followed it for several minutes before coming back to tell his friends.
‘It’s quite wide, more than enough for the sledge, and it winds right up the mountain. It must lead to that ridge between the peak above the snowfield,’ he said, with great excitement.
Copper was sceptical. ‘You only followed it for a few minutes, Grunge. We can’t be sure that it does run all the way to the ridge. What if we get half way and can’t go any further or turn the sledge round? What if the ledge narrows?’
‘You’re right, Copper. There’s all those “ifs”. But there’s one more “if”. What if we don’t find a trail further south?’ Grunge had considered of all the things the engineer said but he felt sure that the ledge was the way. Without knowing why, he was even sure it was the path that Girth had taken hundreds of years ago. ‘Of course, it is rather slippery. There’s a bit of ice and snow,’ he added.
‘I think we should try,’ said Crimson. ‘But there is one other problem. How do we get the sledge and Miniver up on the ledge?’
‘We can take the tank off and haul it up with the ropes,’ figured Copper. ‘Miniver will be more difficult. She’s a big bear. She must weigh close to 180 kilos.’
Miniver gave Copper a warning growl.
‘I have an idea,’ said Dot, giving Miniver a reassuring pat. ‘Copper, let’s start getting the tank off.’
A little while later, Miniver felt the rope jerk and the harness tighten around her waist. ‘I’m not sure this is such a good idea,’ the bear thought as the space between her feet and the ground increased. She could feel herself swinging gently as she inched higher. Craning her neck, she could see her companions hauling on the rope that raised her to the ledge.
Copper had agreed to Dot’s idea. With the wheels of the sledge, they had constructed a crude block and tackle attached to an even cruder three-legged frame on the ledge. Using just one pulley, they had halved the weight they had to lift and, with five of them pulling on the rope, they had little difficulty raising Miniver. As her head came level with the ledge, Miniver saw Aunt Mag’s legs. She inched higher and the rest of Aunt Mag gradually appeared.
‘Hello, Miniver,’ said Aunt Mag. ‘Nice day to be up and about!’ And she gave a hearty laugh.
‘Just get me on the ledge, if you don’t mind,’ growled Miniver. Aunt Mag grabbed the sling and pulled the bear until she was over the ledge. ‘OK!’ she called down to the others. ‘You can let her down! Gently, now!’ An admonition which Miniver heartily reinforced.
Her feet on solid ground, Miniver sat and grizzled. In a few moments, Dot scrambled up onto the ledge.
‘Well, Miniver, that wasn’t too bad, was it? It looked rather fun!’ said the apprentice, giving the bear a little kiss on the snout. Miniver gave a dismissive snort and shook her head, though she did have to admit to herself that it had been rather fun.
Before long, the frame had been dismantled and the sledge and tank reunited. Miniver shuffled backwards to the sledge and waited while Crimson hitched her to the shafts.
A long time ago, perhaps thousands of years, the mountain had shuddered or sneezed and shook loose an avalanche of rocks. One, as large as a house, had crashed down the mountainside until it hit the face of an adjacent cliff. There, it had wedged itself between the two cliffs, straddling the track and creating a short tunnel. Through this ancient rock bower the companions made their way. In the light ahead, they could see the track, white with snow and ice, wind its way up the mountain until it disappeared around the curve of the great peak.
The sledge crunched over the small rocks that littered the track. The larger ones were kicked or thrown aside by those leading the way, lest they shatter the runners. Dot walked beside the sledge, ready to put the brake on should Miniver or the sledge slip. Brian brought up the rear, muttering to himself.
Truth be told, Brian feared that Grunge had rather understated the i
ce and snow. More than once, he was grateful for the sharp walking stick as his feet slipped and he stayed upright by stabbing the ground with his stick. ‘And he should have mentioned the wind,’ Brian grumbled, and shivered.
The wind was sharp and cut right through their clothes. It raced across the snowfield and slammed into the mountain. Looking for a place to go, it followed the line of the track, down into the gap between this mountain and the next. It nipped their cheeks and ears until they tingled with thousands of little pinpricks. Even Miniver felt it through her fur and wished for the warmth of her cosy den back in Muddlemarsh.
Copper was relieved when they rounded the curve of the peak and saw the track still stretching before them. It became steeper here, and more treacherous than before. It also narrowed, it was still wide enough for the sledge but Dot was forced to walk behind.
They stayed close to the mountain. Beyond the sharp edge of the track on the right, it was a drop straight down into a distant valley below.
Upward they trudged, their progress slowing with each step. The track was very steep now. Miniver strained in the harness. Her sharp claws found little purchase on the ice-hard rock and she was testing her grip at each step. Crimson watched her friend straining and called to the others over the noise of the wind.
‘We have to help Miniver. She won’t be able to continue soon,’ she told them. Grunge nodded. He and Copper inched back and took the ropes from the sledge. Dot leaned forward and applied the brake. Miniver felt the strain ease on her muscles and she lowered herself onto her haunches.
Copper and Grunge attached one end of the ropes to the front of the sledge and, from the other end, made a simple harness that fitted around their shoulders and under their arms. They walked forward until the slack in the rope was taken up, then nodded to Dot. Miniver rose from the track, Dot released the brake and the travellers moved on.
The day was swiftly coming to a close. Looking ahead, Grunge began to be concerned. He could see where the track levelled as the side of the mountain ran into the ridge. Once there, they would be able to rest and find a place to camp for the night. It was what lay between them and the ridge that worried the Muddle.
This last section of the track was a set of huge steps, like part of a giant’s staircase. They rose in a series of deep platforms, and were just long enough for Miniver and the sledge. What they had in length, though, they lacked in width. They were narrow, perhaps only inches wider than the sledge.
If they were careful, they would make it. While Miniver pulled the sledge up to the next platform, one of them, perhaps two if the platform was wide enough, would have to lift the back on to the platform behind her. But only while the sun still gave them light. In the dark, even with the torches, they would have little chance. And they couldn’t stay on the ledge for the night. Exposed to the bitter wind and the freezing night air, even Miniver would be fortunate not to perish.
They reached the bottom of the first platform. The sun hovered just above the tip of the mountain above them, casting a long shadow down the side of the mountain. Far below them, the valley already lay in darkness.
Copper and Grunge slipped out of the ropes and untied them from the sledge. Grunge studied the series of steps. They were too narrow for more than one person. ‘Crimson!’ he yelled. ‘Move everyone past Miniver and get them to the top. Then help Miniver up each of the steps. I’ll lift the sledge from behind.’ Copper opened his mouth to argue. Grunge stopped him before he could speak.
‘There’s not enough room for two, Copper. We need to find a place to camp for the night. Take the others up.’ Grunge smiled at the engineer. ‘We’ll all need some hot coffee.’
Copper nodded. He waited while Dot and Brian, the only ones behind the bear, cautiously sidled past Miniver and clambered up the first step beside Aunt Mag. It was hard work for the Beadles. Shorter than the others, the steps came up to their chests. Copper made a step with his cupped hands for them and Dot stood on the step above to help them up. Brian and Aunt Mag made it to the first step. Brian could see the uneasiness in Aunt Mag’s face.
‘It’s OK, Aunt Mag,’ said Brian, trying to reassure her. ‘There’s no water to fall into. It doesn’t matter that you can’t swim.’
Aunt Mag glanced over the edge of the cliff. ‘Yes, Brian. But I can’t fly, either.’
Step by step, they reached the top. Taking one last worried look at the others below, they went off to find a place where they could camp for the night.
Miniver stood on her hind legs and placed her front paws on the step above her. Straining the muscles in her powerful legs and guided by Crimson, she pulled herself up onto the step. As the sledge tilted upwards, following Miniver, Grunge used all his strength to lift its rear. Miniver moved forward, trying to bring the sledge fully onto the step. The runners screeched as they dragged across the edge.
Crimson, only a few paces in front of Grunge, was only a shadowy form as the night rushed to blanket the Land. Again, the three friends struggled at the second step. ‘Reach would do this easily,’ thought Grunge as his muscles worked at their limit. Another step, and then another. There were three more to go and Grunge could barely see Crimson, trying to ease the strain on Miniver. They were at the second last step. Miniver’s front paws reached for the one ahead and she pulled herself up. She felt the edge of the step against her chest and she brought a back leg forward and up, trying to get it onto the platform. Crimson’s hands were numb, the wind and freezing night air attacking them. She leaned forward to grab Miniver’s harness. Her foot stepped onto a patch of ice and as she leaned, she slipped and fell.
Grunge was just lifting the rear of the sledge when he heard Crimson’s cry. The sledge was wrenched from his hands as Crimson was thrown forward onto it. Grunge fell backwards, dropping the sledge. The sudden weight of it pulled on Miniver just as she brought her other back leg up onto the step. Her legs scrambled to gain a proper footing. She could feel the sledge pulling her backwards, threatening to send her plunging over the edge of the narrow track. Her claws scratched furiously, breaking the ice and scoring the stone beneath. Yet still the sledge pulled her back towards the precipice.
The weight suddenly eased. Grunge had managed to get to his feet and was struggling to arrest the sledge’s backward slide. Crimson picked herself up, and seeing Miniver battling to stay on the step, she threw herself under the bear. Putting her hands on Miniver’s bottom, she pushed.
Miniver lurched forward. Her feet firmly on the step, she regained her balance and pulled the sledge up onto the step. Crimson ducked and rolled towards the mountain, letting it pass over her. She lay on the cold rock, her heart pounding. Grunge’s face appeared in front of her.
‘Well, that makes a pleasant change,’ said Grunge. His elbows on the step, he had his face in his hands. ‘Normally it’s me who takes a tumble.’ Crimson looked at Grunge for a moment, then laughed.
‘Come on,’ she said, getting to her feet, ‘let’s get up this last step.’
Miniver stood on the step, slightly ruffled. Crimson squeezed past and hoisted herself onto the narrow path above. ‘Watch the hands next time,’ teased Miniver.
The last red rays of the sun fell behind the montain peak and the sky gave over to night as Crimson, Grunge and Miniver reached the top of the track.
The track merged into a ridge a hundred weary paces from the steps. The ridge was wide and flat, as if a mountain had once stood there and a giant blade had cleanly sliced off its top. Pine trees dotted the area, defying the wind and the cold. Glad to be walking on level ground, the three Muddles approached the ridge, listening for sounds of their companions. Miniver’s sharp ears heard the noise of the camp long before her friends spotted the glow of the fire off to the left.
Brian and the others had found a clearing where the ridge met the mountain they had just climbed. They had shifted the snow, and the lanterns and the fire cast a warm yellow light. At the rear of the clearing, with the mountain sheltering its back, Brian, Copper
and Dot were erecting the tent. Aunt Mag was bending over the fire, making coffee. It looked safe and welcoming to Grunge and the others as they approached.
The area was almost like the courtyard of a lord or king who had his home in the heart of the mountain. The face of the mountain was of black stone. The light danced off small veins of white and silver in the rock and even in the night they could see the stone had a deep lustre as if its heart glowed. It rose above the tent like a dark sentry.
Copper saw them looking at the black rock. ‘Black marble,’ he informed them. ‘Though I’ve never seen its like. It’s beautiful.’
Crimson walked round the tent to the black stone. She removed one of her mittens and laid her hand on the surface. Immediately, she took her hand away. ‘It’s so cold!’ she exclaimed. ‘So cold it burns!’
Copper gave a sideways look at Dot, who held up a gloved hand and smiled. ‘Dot said the same thing,’ said Copper. ‘The rest of us were happy to take her word for it.’
There was something about the black marble that puzzled Crimson. Its coldness came from within.
The east wind that had raced across the mountains all day had turned to the west. It still tugged at the travellers but the mountain bore the brunt of the wind and protected them from its penetrating cold. With plenty of wood to burn, they had built a blazing fire. After eating, they sat in a semicircle around the fire, their backs to the mountain. They stared at the mountain opposite. Beyond it, a faint blue glow could be seen, even through the darkness of the night.
Grunge pointed in the direction of the mountain opposite. ‘We’re nearly there. That must be the mountain where the first avalanche happened to Girth and his companions.’
‘And the mountain of blue ice is just beyond it,’ said Crimson. ‘The ice. It glows. Even at night.’
They all felt solemn and quiet, awed by the prospect of the blue ice.
‘By noon tomorrow we should be at the snowfield,’ said Copper.