To The West Part 55

"But I ain't got a small brain," said Esau. "Won't you go first?"

"No. I went over the clatter slide first, and regretted it directly I had started. I felt as if I ought to have been last. Now then, don't hesitate."

"But--"

"Shall I go over, Esau?" I said. "Yes, please. One of my legs is a bit stiff, and I think I'll take off my boots first."

By this time Quong had nearly reached the part where there was the projection to go round, and I stepped down with something else to think about, for I saw Gunson laughing rather contemptuously at Esau, who sat down at once to remove his boots, his face scarlet with shame and annoyance, for Gunson said mockingly--

"Don't take off the stiff leg too, my lad; you'll want it."

I glanced back, and caught Esau's eye, and fancied that I heard his teeth click together as he gave a kind of snap, looking as if he would like now to take my place for very shame.

But it was too late. I was already on the ledge, feeling for places to get a hold, and finding that the rock was so full of cracks that I could insert my fingers easily enough, and steady myself as I shifted my leg along. Gunson had followed down close behind me.

"Well done!" he shouted, so as to be heard above the roar of the water.

"Don't look down at the river, my lad, but keep your eyes on the rock, and you'll soon be over."

I made no attempt to reply, but kept sidling my way along slowly and cautiously, and finding the task much easier than I thought it would prove; in fact, if it had been solid ground below me instead of that awful torrent, I felt that the task would have been nothing. It was the thought that a slip would be fatal which made all the difference, and I had hard work to resist the magnetic attraction of that writhing water, which seemed to be trying to make me look at it, so that I might turn giddy and fall.

Step by step, with a careful hold taken, and making myself determined as I mastered my feelings of cowardice, I kept on in a fixed stolid way, till I thought that I must be half-way along the ledge, and that now every step would bring me nearer to safety, when, to my utter astonishment, I found myself within a yard of Quong, who was again seated on a block of stone, blinking thoughtfully, and ready to look up at me and nod and smile.

A curious feeling of satisfaction came over me--that glow of pleasure one feels at having conquered a difficulty, and instead of going on I edged back a little, till I could stand and watch for the others coming.

To my surprise I found that Gunson was half-way across, and he hastened his pace as he saw me there.

"Here, what is it?" he shouted, so as to make his voice heard. "Afraid to go any further?"

"No, no; I stepped back to see Esau come along."

"Oh! He had not got both his boots off when I started."

There stood Esau plainly enough beside the Indian. His boots were tied together by the strings, and hung about his neck, and he was watching us.

I should have shouted at him, but my words would not have been heard, and even if I had felt disposed to wave my hand, leaving part of my hold, Esau could not have seen me, as Gunson was between. And still the lad did not move.

We saw the Indian look at him and walk down toward the ledge, and it seemed to us as if he tried to make him go by saying something, which of course Esau could not understand in words, but he comprehended his movements, and we saw him turn upon him angrily.

"Oh," shouted Gunson, "I wish that savage would spur him on with one of his spears, the miserable coward!"

"He'll come directly," I shouted back. "He isn't a coward, only it takes him a long time to make up his mind."

"He and I will have a desperate quarrel one of these days, I know. Hah!

at last," cried Gunson, for, as if desperate, Esau now stepped on to the ledge and began to sidle along, the Indian coming close behind him.

But he made very slow progress, stopping every now and then to look down at the water; and at such times we saw him clinging fast to the rock, as if afraid to move afterwards. Then on again for two or three steps, with the Indian calmly following him up and waiting his pleasure.

This went on till Esau was about half-way, when we saw him look down again, and then make quite a convulsive clutch at the rock, against which he now rested motionless, and without making an effort to move.

"Is he resting?" I shouted.

"No; lost his nerve entirely," said Gunson. "Stop where you are and hold my rifle."

He thrust it into my hand, and then went quickly along the ledge back to where Esau stood motionless, and I saw him go to the poor fellow and speak to him.

Esau raised his head and looked at him as I thought piteously, and then once more he began to edge his way along, step by step, with Gunson close by him, and, as it seemed to me, through the mist which rose from the water, holding one arm behind him to help him along.

Very soon, though, I saw what had been done. The Indian had stretched out one of the spears he carried behind Esau, and Gunson had hold of the other end, so that as they held it the shaft formed a rail behind Esau's back, giving him more moral than real support, but sufficient to encourage him to try, with the result that they soon came so near that I had to creep back along round the corner; and a few minutes later we were on better ground, where the Indians raised the packs once more, and again led the way onward, with Esau and me last.

We trudged on in silence for nearly an hour before Esau spoke. I had tried to draw him into conversation several times, but he had preserved a sulky silence, which annoyed me, and I went on just in front, for of course we were in single line. All at once he said loudly--

"'Tain't my fault."

"What is not?"

"That. I was born and brought up to walk on flag-stones. I was never meant to do this sort of thing; if I had been, mother would have paid for me to learn to walk on tight-ropes."

"There," I said, "you got over it. Never mind now."

"But I ain't got over it, and I do mind now," he cried angrily. "How would you like to be laughed at because you were thought to be a coward?

And I ain't one, I'm sure."

"Of course you are not."

"But of course I am, and you know I am. I never expected British Columbia was made like this. Here's a pretty place! Why, it's just as if the world had been split open ever so far, and we was obliged to walk along the bottom of the crack."

"Yes," I said, as I looked up the side of the canon to where the sky seemed to be a mere strip above our heads; "but then see how awfully grand it is."

"Oh, yes, I know it's awfully enough, but I don't see no grand. I wish I hadn't come."

"What, because we've had a bit of difficulty?"

"Bit? Why it's all difficulty. I couldn't help it. I wanted to come along pluckily like you did, but something inside wouldn't let me. It was just as if it kept whispering, 'Don't go; you'll be sure to fall, and then what'll your mother say?'"

"But it was a horrible bit to go along."

"You didn't seem to think so," he said, in an ill-used tone.

"But I did feel so, and I was frightened."

"Couldn't ha' been, or you'd have stuck fast same as I did."

"But I was frightened, I tell you, and so was Gunson."

"Then he needn't have been so nasty with me."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing. That was the worst of it. Only wish he had, 'stead o'