SNOWBOUND ! (Part 3)
The morning of September 22nd
saw the first rays of the sun making its way through the slits of their tents. “Gosh!
The Sun is out !” shouted Srikantia getting out of the sleeping bag. Gaps of
blue were seen in the horizon. All familiar landmarks had disappeared in the
white expanse which was nine to ten feet deep. Donning sunglasses they came
out of the tents one by one. Pangs of hunger gnawed in their guts but they
refrained from eating, lest their supplies run out. Retreating to their tents
they decided to chalk out a strategy for escape.
“We can’t risk another day here.
Another bout of snowfall and we’ll all have a white funeral!” mumbled Biswas
glumly. The porters were demoralised. They too were running out of rations. The
group realised it was impossible to remove and carry the tentages and other
equipment and also the geological specimens they had collected. Yet they were
not too sure whether to abandon everything and scoot. Hence they decided to
risk staying a while longer.
The next day too (September 23rd)
was a fairly clear day. The leader Mr. Srikantia had hopes that the snow would
gradually melt and aid them in their return journey. The transistor radio was
the only contact with the outside world and other than film songs, they never
heard a word about their plight nor any news about the heavy snowfall in the
news bulletins. Dwindling rations brought the group to their feet. It was the
fourth night without sleep.
The morning of September 24th
had a porter peer into Srikantia’s tent and announce “Sahib, it has started
snowing again and we can’t risk remaining here any longer!”
“Collect all the maps, vouchers, cash
and other valuables” Srikantia announced. “Let’s leave immediately !”
With stoic detachment they abandoned
everything at the site save geological maps that was the fruit of the labour of
three months.
The porters revolted and refused
to carry any luggage excepting a few of their blankets. It was quite
understandable – they had their own stuff. The adventurers donned on as many warm
clothes as they could fit into and they all looked quite bloated. Due to the
heavy load the porters could hardly move through the fresh snow. Srikantia
ventured to stay in the lead and make a track for others to follow. All foot
tracks were obliterated and there was a danger of stepping into a crevasse.
Quite often the foot would get jammed between crevices and the painful march was
unending. At one place they had to cross three branches of a glacial stream, as
crossing a glacier with crevasses was too risky. They removed their shoes and
crossed the icy waters that bit into their flesh. Some people lost their gloves
during the crossing. Their feet and hands were becoming numb and sensationless.
It was snowing throughout as the trek continued without respite. Even after a
trek of six hours the group had barely covered two miles. They later heard the
drone of a plane and learnt later that it was on a run to drop food packets for
the party. The outside world had got to know of their plight through P.W.D
engineers who were working in other parts of the valley.
They were still a long way from Batal a small
town where they hoped to rest and assuage their hunger. The visibility had
improved and could espy the other bank of the Chandra River. Towards evening they
were pleasantly aroused to hear a shrill shout from the distant right bank of
the river. A tiny lonesome figure stood there gesticulating wildly! From loud
shouts traded across the river they realized it was Panchiram. Braving the snow
and slush he had single-handedly made his way to guide them to safety. He
guided the group to a particular spot down the river. It was his
intention that they cross the river immediately.
(To be continued…)
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