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To The West, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 28. Esau In Difficulties |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. ESAU IN DIFFICULTIES "Oh dear! oh dear!" whispered Esau, as he came up close behind me. "What's the matter?" "'Spose they pitch us head over-heels down here and go off with our loads, what then?" "We shouldn't be tired to-night, Esau." "Oh, I say, don't laugh," he whispered; "it's too dreadful. What a place to come along! Feel giddy?" "No; don't talk about it," I replied quickly, for the idea was too horrible. But I took heart as I glanced at the loaded men, who walked on as calmly as if there were no danger whatever, while Quong came behind Esau, quite as coolly. I am afraid to say at what angle the rocky wall went up above us. Esau declared it was quite straight, which was absurd; but I believe I am right in saying that the part along which the principal Indian led us was as steep as it was possible for a man to make his way along, while over and over again the rock curved right above our heads. It was evident that we were going along a regular track, for the Indian never hesitated. Sometimes he led the way down and down till we were nearly close to the water, then up and up till it looked as if we were to be led right to the top of the mighty rock wall, and out among the mountains. But the track always led down again; and at last in the dim twilight we found that we were close to a sheer precipice which rose out of the water, and along which, not six feet above the torrent, the leader began to make his way sidewise, his face to the rock, his arms extended, and his feet supported by a ledge formed by the bottom part of the vast rock projecting a little beyond the upper. The ledge at its widest was not five inches across, and as I saw first one Indian and then another hang our packs away from them and begin creeping along that ledge, clinging by their outstretched hands, I fully expected to see them fall headlong into the boiling torrent and be swept away. My palms grew moist, my eyes dilated, so that there was a painful aching sensation as if they were strained, and I felt as though I should like to run away, and at the same time so fascinated that I was obliged to watch them. At last I turned shudderingly away, and then caught sight of my companions, to see that Gunson was holding on to a piece of rock with one hand, while he reached forward to watch the men, every feature intent, and his shaggy brows knit, and his upper teeth displayed as he pressed them on his lower lip. Esau had his eyes close shut and his face wrinkled up into a grin, as if he were in pain. And there just behind him was Quong, seated on a projecting stone, looking straight away before him, as if he were gazing at his home in China, blinking, dreamy, and paying not the least heed to the danger of the men or to that which was to come for us all. There was another present--the last Indian, who stood like a bronze statue, resting upon the sheaf of spears he held, and watching us all curiously, as if noting our manner, and trying to read our thoughts. Not a slip, not a moment's hesitation. The Indians went on, with our packs threatening to drag them off the ledge into the river; but these were only threats, and we watched till they had nearly reached the end of the ledge, where I saw the leader pass round a projection and disappear. "I say," whispered Esau, "tell me when they are all safe." I did not answer, and he opened his eyes and looked round at me. "I say--look, look! There are only two there," he cried excitedly. "Have the others gone in?" "No, no. They are safe. Look!" For the last two gradually passed on out of our sight, and Gunson drew a long breath full of relief. "Hah!" he ejaculated. "All right. Well, lads, if those fellows can do it with the loads hanging from them, it ought to be easy for us. Who goes first?" There was no reply, and Gunson said quickly-- "Now, Quong, on with you." "Me go 'long nex? All light." He stepped down on the ledge, carefully catching hold of the rock, and edged his way along without a moment's hesitation. "There, Gordon," said Gunson, "that's the advantage of having a very small brain. On with you next, Dean. I want to see you lads over safe." "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' looking at me as he did. For I couldn't help it a bit." "Well, never mind; it's all past now." "It ain't, I tell you, and never will be past. Everybody will know that I am a horrible coward, and it will stick to me as long as I live." I tried to laugh, at him and pass it off, but it was of no use. He took it regularly to heart, harping constantly upon Gunson's manner to him. "But you are making mountains of mole-hills," I cried at last, angrily. "Well, that's what they are made out of, isn't it, only plenty of it." "But you say he looked at you." "Yes; he looked at me." "Well, what of that? There's no harm in his looking at you." "Oh, ain't there? You don't know. He just can look. It was just as if he was calling me a miserable cowardly cur, and it cut me horrid. S'pose I did stick fast in the middle of that path--Bah! it isn't a path at all--wasn't it likely? If I hadn't stopped and held on tight, I should ha' been half-way back to the sea by this time, with my nose knocked off at the least, and the salmon making a meal of what was left of me. 'Course I held on as tight as I could, and enough to make me." "Well, never mind," I said. "There: I won't hear a word more about it. Perhaps I shall be a horrible coward next time, and then Gunson will look at me." "If he does, I shall hit him, so there." Esau looked ill-used at me because I laughed, and kept on muttering all the time we were in that terrible gorge, just as if the gloom of the place oppressed him. As for me, I seemed to have enough to do to watch where I placed my feet as we slowly climbed on for hour after hour, thinking all the time of the valley I had read of years before in the _Pilgrim's Progress_, and feeling half ready to see some horrible giant or monster rise up to stop our way. It was rapidly growing so dark down between those terrible jagged walls that I began to think we should have to make camp soon and sleep there in some one or other of the black hollows, and without fire, for there was nothing visible but scraps of moss, when, all at once, on turning a corner which had appeared to block the way, it began to grow lighter, for the sides of the gorge were not so perpendicular. Then another corner was turned, and it was lighter still with the warm soft light of evening, and there in the distance was a glowing spot which I took at first for the sun, but which I knew directly after to be the ice-capped top of a mountain glowing in the sun. Below it was the pine forest again, looking almost black, while away on high a cascade came gliding down like golden spray, touched as it was by the setting sun. Half an hour's more weary tramp, and the chief of the Indian party stopped short, and we found that we had suddenly come upon an opening by the river where about a couple of dozen Indians were standing by the rows of salmon they had hung up to dry in the sun. They all stood gazing at us in a stolid way, till the man who had guided us went up to them, and then one of the party turned back to their cluster of teepees and came up to us directly after with a friendly offering in the shape of a couple of freshly-caught still living salmon, which Quong bore off eagerly to a spot above the camp. "But the Indians," I said to Gunson. "Shall we be safe?" "Safe or in danger, my lad," he replied, "I want food and rest. This is the worst day's work we have had. Ah, I am beginning to believe in Quong. Here, let's help the little fellow. You get some water while I cut some wood." As we separated I had to go by Esau, who looked at me suspiciously. "I say," he whispered, "what has old Gunson been saying about me?" _ |
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