To The West Part 51

It was all ridiculously easy. The Indian had only to keep on dipping out fish as fast as they could be prepared, and what I saw quite removed any ideas of our taking advantage of the man who had let the fish he carried slip out of his basket, so that it came with a dart to my side of the screen of firs.

"That's an easy way of getting a living," said Esau, as we parted in a friendly way from the Indians, who stared at us in a very heavy, stolid way. "I think I should like to try that."

"For how long?" cried Gunson, with a laugh. "Why, my good fellow, you'd be tired of catching the fish in a week, and more tired of eating them in a fortnight."

"Tired?--of eating salmon?" said Esau, laughing. "Oh, you don't know me. I had some once, and it was lovely."

"Well, we'll try one of ours when we stop for dinner," said Gunson; "but we must do a good morning's tramp first."

That good morning's tramp did not seem to progress much, for the way grew more and more difficult, and it was once taken into consideration whether we had not better strike in away from the river; and we should have adopted this course but for the fear of losing ourselves in the labyrinth of mountains to the north and east, and not being able to strike the stream again.

"You see, hard as the way is, it is sure," said Gunson; "and as your goal and mine too are on the upper waters of the river, we had better keep to it."

It was getting toward midday, and the sun shone forth with such power that we felt the little air there was come down the valley like the breath of an oven, and we should have decided to stop at once, cook our dinner, and rest, but for the fact that there was neither wood nor shade. For we had quite left the patches of forest behind at this point, and were tramping slowly over a bare sterile region of the most forbidding character, low down by the river. Higher up where we could not climb the tall trees again appeared, and every ledge and slope was crowned with dwarf pine, fern, and moss.

"We had better keep on past that bare slope," said Gunson. "I can see trees on beyond it. It looks green, too, as if there was water."

Of course we agreed, for there was not a sign of water where we stood, and thirst was beginning to trouble us all.

So we tramped on, Gunson now leading, and the rushing sound of the river below the wall of rock sounding very tantalising as we grew hotter still, and the heat began to be reflected from the stones in a most unpleasant way. It would have been bad enough for the unladen, but for people burdened as we were it was hard work indeed.

At the end of half an hour the river, which had been hidden from us save when we went close to the edge and looked down, came into view again, for the character of the valley had suddenly changed. We found now that there was the steep slope from high up the mountain to the level of the water, which roared and surged along, and swept away the thin pieces of slaty stone which formed the slope--a clatter-slide, as west-country people would call it. These pieces were all loose and extremely unpleasant to walk upon, being shaley fragments of all sizes, from that of a child's hand up to thin fragments a foot or two across.

The heat here was tremendous, and as we walked the stones gave way beneath our feet, and began setting in motion little stony avalanches, which kept on gliding down till the whole of the slope seemed to be running into the river. No one talked, but strode on, not planting his feet in the footsteps of him who had gone before, but avoiding them, for they formed the centres of so much loose stuff ready to give way at a touch.

We got along over about half a mile of this, and then paused on a bit of a shelf to rest, for about a quarter of a mile farther we saw our resting-place; the clatter ceasing, to give way to verdure with plenty of trees, and in their midst, temptingly beckoning us to fresh exertions, there was the water we needed--a beautiful filmy veil, floating down from hundreds of feet up, arched by a hopeful rainbow, and anon gliding softly like a shower of silver rockets down behind the tall green firs.

We knew that there would be a beautiful pool of water at the foot of that cascade, with green, mossy gra.s.s, and plenty of pine-boughs for our fire and to shade us from the scorching sun; and toward this enviable spot we pressed on, with the slope growing steeper and steeper, till at last we paused again for Gunson to investigate.

It was time. For the past five minutes the slide had kept running so much toward the perpendicular, that at every step we loosened stones which began to tear down toward the river, and necessitated leaps and quick plunges to keep us from being carried with them, while a slip would have meant a headlong fall, increasing in speed till the unfortunate was plunged into the foaming torrent which poured down, and would have swept him instantly away.

"Watch how I go," said Gunson. "Keep cool, and don't think of falling.

I know it is a hard bit to get over, but it is not above a couple of hundred yards where it is so bad; after that it grows better and better, till you reach the trees. Now then, all stand still while I go first."

He tightened his pack over his shoulder, took a good grip of the rifle, stood for a moment, and then strode forward, going diagonally, as if to reach the top of the slope.

This seemed for the moment unnecessary, and likely to make the journey longer, but I soon saw that it was properly calculated, for as the stones kept on sliding beneath his feet as he struggled upward, he was constantly being brought down to the level of where we stood, perspiring profusely, and fascinated by the peril of the task.

It was only now that I fully realised how steep the side of the valley was, and that a fall must end in the river among the black craggy rocks which stood up so threateningly amongst the white foam.

He went steadily on, and as I stood there I felt, to use the common saying, as if my heart was in my mouth. A dozen terrible thoughts flashed through my mind:--what should we do if he fell and was swept away? It would be impossible to save him; and as to his own powers, I did not believe that any man could battle with that terrible torrent-like river, which would sweep him down, dashing him from rock to rock, till he was carried from our sight, leaving us alone in our despair to try some other way.

The thoughts were paralysing as they came with lightning-like rapidity, for now it was dawning upon me, that shocking as it would be to see my fellow-creature hurled to death like that, somehow Gunson, that rough, stern, disfigured man, had made a kind of impression upon me--that there existed a tie between us. I don't think I liked him, but I felt at that moment as if I would have given anything to have been by his side, as I saw him totter, slip, recover himself, slip again, and begin gliding down fast, but always preserving his perpendicular.

"He's gone," I said aloud; but as the words left my lips he made two or three bounds, sending the stones rushing down heavily, as he regained his old level and went on rapidly. Onward still, but what a length that seemed!--and now I was learning from his progress that the only chance of getting across was to keep right on, exercising all the strength of nerve and muscle one possessed to go forward, for to have stood still meant to begin gliding rapidly downward, sinking more and more in a gathering avalanche of stones as others were loosened from above to fill up the vacancy that was made.

Two-thirds--three-quarters of the way across--and once more he began to slide, but with desperate energy he went on by leaps and bounds now, and we set up a hoa.r.s.e cheer as we saw him reach firm ground--a cheer which did not reach him, for the whole side of the slide seemed to be in motion, and as I saw him throw himself down, there was a curious rushing, rattling roar, as if fragments of ice were formed on the surface of a torrent and were rushing down into the river.

It was very evident that Gunson was exhausted by his tremendous efforts, for he lay on the rocks, motioning to us with his hand not to come, and we stood looking from one to the other, mutely inquiring what was to be done next. At last he rose, unfastened his pack, threw it down behind him, and came close to the edge of the slide, to look up and about with his eyes sheltered, as if seeking for a better place for us to cross.

I did the same, gazing high up to where the stones grew smaller, and then right down to where the flat, thin fragments plunged into the running river, to be swept away; but, like Gunson, I could see no better place.

By degrees, though, the fluttering, rattling glide ceased, and the slope looked level once more, and then Gunson put his hands to his mouth and shouted--

"Can you hear what I say?"

"Yes."

"Take your packs on your heads, and when you start keep right on; never hesitate; I'll be ready to help."

We heard every word distinctly, and it sounded curiously like a whisper that ran along the surface of the stones; and when he had ended, Quong looked at me sharply with his little black eyes.

"Me go long nex'," he said; and as I nodded, he balanced his great pack deftly on his head, paused for a few moments to get it quite satisfactory, and then stretching out his arms like one who walks along a pole, he started off, while so steep was the slope that his extended fingers nearly touched the stones as he went along.

The little fellow was so light, so steady and clever, that he tripped forward without dislodging anything like the amount of stones that Gunson had set running. But I could see that the effort needed was terrible as he went on and on, increasing his speed now, slowing then, and getting more and more over with far less effort, and giving us no end of encouragement, as he at length reached the rocks, tumbled the load off his head--the load which had never seemed once to lose its poise--and finally we could see him seated facing us wiping his hot face with the front of his blouse.

"He's got over," said Esau, hoa.r.s.ely.

"Yes," I said, in the same husky tones.

"One of us has got to go next."

"Yes," I said. "Who shall go?"

"Wish I'd got a good pole with a spike at the end," said Esau.

"So do I."

"Or I wouldn't mind if it was only a clothes-prop."

"But we have neither, Esau."

"Well, don't I know we haven't? What's the good o' being so aggravating, and keeping on saying we ain't--we ain't? Lots o'

beautiful trees behind us to cut clothes-props to last all Camberwell for life, and there's lots over there in front, but they don't bring us one. It's always the way. There's lots o' money in the Bank o'

England, but we couldn't get it to come out here."

"Don't be unreasonable," I said, and I gave quite a start as a stone from above came rattling down.

"Who's unreasonable?" grumbled Esau; "I ain't: only a bit wild at having to go across that precious bit o' solid slide. What do you think my mother would say if she saw me coming here and going to start over that place? Why, it would kill her."

"It does look dangerous," I said, sadly.

"Look! Why, it is. It's horrid."

"But they've got over safely."

"That don't mean I shall. Oh dear, oh dear! This comes o' picking up strange friends, and letting 'em lead us into difficulties. And not so much as a walking-stick to help us."