The Silver Canyon Part 15

"Let's say a few encouraging words to him."

"You may say thousands, and they won't do no good," said Joses. "He's got the fright and badly too."

"But the bears are gone?"

"Ay, that they are, my lad; but the fall's there, and that's what he's afraid of. I've seen men look like that before now, when climbing up mountains."

"But it would be so easy to get back, Joses. I could do it directly."

"So could he if he hadn't lost his nerve. Now what's to be done?"

"Shall I creep out to him?" said Bart eagerly.

"What, you? what good would it do? You don't think you could carry him back like a baby?"

"No," said Bart, "but I might help him."

"You couldn't help him a bit," growled Joses, "nor more could I. All the good you could do would be to make him clutch you and then down both would go at once, and what's the use of that."

"If we had brought a la.s.so with us."

"Well, if we had," said Joses, "and could fasten it round him, I don't believe we could haul him off, for he'd only cling all the tighter, and perhaps drag us over the side."

"What is to be done then?" said Bart. "Here, Sam, make an effort, my lad. Creep back; it's as easy as can be. Don't be afraid. Here, I will come to you."

He threw down his gun, and before Joses could stop him, he climbed out to the projecting limb, and letting his legs go down on either side, worked himself along till he was close behind Sam, whom he slapped on the back.

"There," cried Bart. "It's easy enough. Don't think of how deep down it is. Now I'm going back. You do the same. Come along."

As he spoke and said encouraging things to Sam, Bart felt himself impelled to gaze down into the depths beneath him, and as he did so, the dashing bravery that had impelled him to risk his life that he might encourage his follower to creep back, all seemed to forsake him, a cold perspiration broke out on face and limbs, accompanied by a horrible paralysing sense of fear, and in an instant he was suffering from the same loss of nerve as the man whom he wished to help.

Bart's hands clutched at the rough branch, and he strove to drive his finger nails into the bark in a spasmodic effort to save himself from death. He was going to fall. He knew that he was. Nothing could save him--nothing, and in imagination he saw himself lose his hold of the branch, slip sidewise, and go down headlong as the bears had fallen, to strike against the rocks, glance off, and then plunge down, down, swifter and swifter into s.p.a.ce.

The sensation was fearful, and for the time being he could make no effort to master it. One overwhelming sense of terror had seized upon him, and this regularly froze all action till he now crouched as helpless and unnerved as the poor fellow before him who never even turned his head, but clung to the branch as if insensible to everything but the horrors of his position.

Joses shouted to him, and said something again and again, but Bart only heard an indistinct murmur as he stared straight down at the tops of the pines and other trees half a mile below him; and then came a dreamy, wondering feeling, as to how much pain he should feel when he fell; how long he would be going down all that distance; whether he should have to fall on the tops of the pine-trees, or amongst the rough ravines of rock.

And so on, thought after thought of this kind, till all at once, as if out of a dream, a voice seemed to say to him:

"Well, I shouldn't have thought, Master Bart, as I'd taught all these years, was such a coward!"

The words stung him, and seemed to bring him back to himself.

Coward! what would Maude think of him for being such a coward? Not that it would much matter if he fell down there and were smashed to death.

What would the Doctor, who had given him so many lessons on presence of mind, coolness in danger, and the like? And here was he completely given up to the horror of his position, making no effort when it was perhaps no harder to get back than it had been to get forward.

"I won't think of the depth," said Bart, setting his teeth, and, raising himself upright, he hitched himself a few inches back.

Then the feeling of danger came upon him once more, and was mastering him again rapidly, when the great rough voice of old Joses rang out loudly in a half-mocking, half-angry tone:

"And I thought him such a brave un too."

"And so I will be," muttered Bart, as he made a fresh effort to recover from his feeling of panic; and as he did so, he hitched himself along the branch towards the main trunk with his back half turned, threw one leg over so that he was in a sitting position, and the next minute he was standing beside Joses, with his heart beating furiously, and a feeling of wonderment coming over him as to why it was that he had been so frightened over such a trifling matter.

"That's better, my lad," said Joses quietly; and as Bart gazed on the rough fellow's face, expecting revilings and reproaches at his cowardice, he saw that the man's bronzed and swarthy features looked dirty and mottled, his eyes staring, and that he was dripping with perspiration.

Just then Joses gripped him by the shoulder in a way that would have made him wince, only he did not want to show the white feather again, and he stood firm as his companion said:

"'Taint no use to talk like that to him. It won't touch him, Master Bart. It's very horrid when that lays hold of you, and you can't help it."

"No," said Bart, feeling relieved, "I could not help it."

"Course you couldn't, my lad. But now we must get old Sam back, or he'll hang there till he faints, and then drop."

"O Joses!" cried Bart.

"I only wish we could get a bear on the bough beyond him there. That would make him scuffle back."

"Frighten him back?" said Bart.

"Yes; one fright would be bigger than the other, and make him come,"

said Joses.

"Do you think that if we frightened him, he would try to get back then?"

whispered Bart.

"I'm sure of it," said Joses.

"Do as I do then," said Bart, as he picked up his rifle. Then speaking loudly he exclaimed:

"Joses; we must not leave the poor fellow there to die of hunger. He can't get back, so let's put him out of his misery at once. Where shall I aim at? His heart?"

"No, no, Master Bart; his head. Send a bullet right through his skull, and it'll be all over at once. You fire first."

Without a moment's hesitation, Bart rested the barrel of his rifle against the trunk, took careful aim, and fired so that the bullet whistled pretty closely by Sam's ear.

The man started and shuddered, seeming as if he were going to sit up, but he relapsed into the former position. "I think I can do it, Master Bart, this time," said Joses; and laying his piece in a notch formed by the bark, he took careful aim, and fired, his bullet going through Sam's hat, and carrying it off to go fluttering down into the abyss.

This time Sam did not move, and Bart gazed at Joses in despair.

"He's too artful, Master Bart," whispered the latter: "he knows we are only doing it to frighten him. I don't know how to appeal to his feelings, unless I was to say, 'here's your old wife a-coming, Sam,' for he run away from her ten years ago. But it wouldn't be no good. He wouldn't believe it."

Bart hesitated for a few moments as he reloaded his rifle, and then he shouted to Sam:

"Now, no nonsense, Sam. You must get back."

The man paid no heed to him, and Bart turned to Joses to say loudly:

"We can't leave him here like this. He must climb back or fall, so if he won't climb back the sooner he is out of his misery the better."