There was a terrifying roar that went on and on, reverberating through the valley, plunging downwards, scattering debris in the trees, shaking the snow from them, stripping their branches. A chip of rock as big as my head thudded into the ground at my feet. And then quite suddenly there was silence.
I ran forward, probing with my torch, stumbled and almost fell. Piled in front of me was a mountain of debris. The results couldn’t have been better. The whole cliff face had fallen outwards, spilling across the road and over the precipice beyond. I tugged at the wires till they came free, coiled them over my arm and went back to the truck. The driver was out on the road. ‘For Chrissakes,’ he said. ‘What was that?’
‘Just blocking the road behind us,’ I said. ‘Can you pull your truck over so that I can reach those telephone wires.’
It was difficult. The wires were sagging loosely. I got my telephone equipment, clipped on to the wires, and rang and rang. At length a voice answered me. ‘Butler, Slide Camp, here. What’s going on? I been tying to get—’
‘Listen, Butler,’ I shouted, again holding the mouthpiece well away from my face. ‘There’s been an accident. That cliff face. It’s fallen. There’s—’
‘I can’t hear you. Speak up please. The line’s very bad.’
‘Probably because it’s down,’ I shouted.
‘I been trying to ring you. That truck just got in. The driver says there’s no sign of any falls—’
‘To hell with the truck. Listen, damn you,’ I shouted. ‘Can you hear me?’
‘Yes. Is that Mr Trevedian?’
‘Yes. Now listen. There’s been a bad fall. The cliff has fallen in and buried one of our trucks. Have you got that?’
‘Yes.’
‘Right. How many men have you got up there?’
‘Men? Including everybody?’
‘Including every Goddamn soul.’
‘About fifty-three, I guess.’
‘How many trucks?’
‘Four. No, five—counting the one that’s just arrived.’
‘Okay. Rustle up every man in the camp, all the digging equipment you can, pile them into the trucks and get down to that fall as fast as you can. We’ve got to have that road cleared by tomorrow morning. And there’s the driver of the truck. He’s buried under it somewhere. I want every man—you understand? No cooks or clerks skulking around, avoiding work. I want every man—the men guarding the hoist—every Goddamn man. And don’t think I won’t know if any are left behind. I’ll have a roll call before we’re through. Every man, you understand. This is an emergency.’
‘Where are you speaking from?’ His voice sounded doubtful. ‘I’ve been trying to ring—’
‘For Christ’s sake get on with it, damn you. I want the whole lot of you down here in half an hour. I’ll be working up with my men from the other—’ I pulled off the wires then and wiped the sweat from my forehead. God, I felt tired! Would he bring them all down or would he balls it up. Suppose he decided to recce with just a truckload first? Everything depended on how scared he was of Trevedian. I was banking a lot on Trevedian’s reputation for ruthlessness.
Slowly I climbed back into the cab. ‘Okay,’ I murmured as I sank back into the seat, absorbing gratefully the hot smell of the engine. ‘Let’s go and join the others.’
The driver was staring at me. His face looked white and scared in the dashboard lights. He switched on the heads and instantly the snow was a white, drifting wall. Would they risk it coming down through this? I wondered. The heavy diesel coughed and roared, the tanker ground forward round the curve of the hill, down the straight run to the swamp ground, across the hard core—and then Garry was there, white like a ghost in the snow, signalling us in, guiding the driver as he backed the tanker alongside the other trucks.
‘What was that noise?’ Garry asked as the driver cut his engine. The world became suddenly black as the lights were switched off. And then Garry was beside me, gripping my arm. ‘What have you been up to?’ His face, too, looked scared in the faint light from the cab.
‘Got a cigarette?’ I said.
He handed me one and lit it for me. ‘Well?’ he said.
‘There’s been a bit of a fall,’ I said wearily.
‘A fall?’ Then he saw the dynamiting equipment lying beside me on the seat. ‘Do you mean you’ve blown the road, by that overhang?’
‘That’s about it,’ I said.
‘But Christ, man—that’s a criminal offence. They’ll have the Mounties up here . . .’
‘We’ll see,’ I said. ‘It won’t be easy to prove.’
‘I should have insisted on your telling me your plan before—’
‘There wasn’t time,’ I said. And then suddenly losing my temper. ‘Damn it, how did you think we were going to get a rig up there? Ask Trevedian to be kind enough to bring it up for us? Well, I did that. I warned him this was a public highway, built with Government money. He laughed in my face.’
Boy had come up beside him. ‘What do we do next, Bruce?’ His voice was steady, quite natural, as though this were the most ordinary thing in the world. I liked Boy for that. He understood. For him a thing that was done was done. He just accepted it.
‘I’ve phoned the camp,’ I said. ‘We wait here until they’re all down at the fall.’
‘And then we blow up the camp, I suppose?’ Garry said sarcastically.
‘No,’ I replied. ‘Just a bridge. Better get some rest, both of you,’ I added. ‘We’ve got a long night’s work ahead of us.’
Boy turned away, but Garry hesitated and then he nodded slowly. ‘Guess you’re right,’ he said and went back to his truck.
Half an hour later headlights pierced the snow for a moment and a truck rumbled past. There were men in the back of it, white shapes huddled against the blinding snow. Another truck followed a few minutes afterwards and then another. They showed for an instant in the murk and then vanished quite suddenly, swallowed up in the storm. A branch creaked and split, broken off by the weight of snow. It fell across one of the trucks. We waited and watched. There were still two more trucks. Five minutes . . . ten. Nothing came. At length I got out of the cab and walked up the line to Garry’s truck. ‘I think we’ll risk it,’ I said. ‘Go one mile and then stop. As soon as I’ve blown the bridge I’ll change places with Boy and ride up with you. Okay?’
Garry opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. ‘Okay,’ he said.
One by one the trucks pulled out and swung on to the road. I followed in the last truck. Our headlights nosed the red tail light of the truck ahead. The hill was short and steep. I saw the truck ahead begin to swing and then we stopped, back wheels spinning. For an awful moment I thought we were going to get stuck. To fit chains would take half an hour. But then the wheels suddenly gripped as they dug down through the snow to the surface of the road. We nosed forward, touched the truck ahead and again stuck with wheel spin. But a moment later both of us were grinding forward, lipping the top of the hill and running down to the torrent. The logs of the bridge were heavy with snow. There was no hollow sound of wheels on wood as we crossed, only a slight change in the noise of the engine.
A hundred yards further on I had my driver stop and ran back to fix my battery wires. The explosion was much sharper this time. It was like the sound of a gun and the echoes vanished abruptly, masked by the falling snow. When I went forward to look at the bridge it was a tumbled mass of logs. The drop to the torrent bed was only a few feet. Nobody would get hurt if a truck failed to pull up in time.
I got back into the cab and half a mile further on we caught up with the tail light of the truck ahead. They had pulled up, engines panting softly in the darkness. I ran up to the leading truck and sent Boy back to bring up the rear. Garry looked at me once out of the corners of his eyes as I settled down beside him, but he said nothing and we started forward up the long drag to the camp.
It was twelve-forty when we saw the lights of a hut. More lights appeared as we slow
ly followed the road across the camp area. From somewhere in the darkness came the faint hum of a diesel electric plant. ‘Do you reckon they’ve all gone down in those trucks?’ Garry asked. It was the first time he had spoken.
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I hope so.’
We were almost clear of the camp when a man suddenly ran out into the middle of the road, flagging us down with his arm. ‘What do we do now?’ the driver asked. ‘Ignore him?’
But I knew we couldn’t ignore him. ‘You’ll have to pull up,’ I said. I could feel myself trembling and my feet and hands felt deathly cold. Something had gone wrong. Another man appeared beside the first; another and another—a whole bunch of them. As we pulled up they crowded round us. ‘Switch the dashboard light off,’ I said to the driver. And then leaning out of the darkness of the cab I flashed the beam of my torch on them, blinding them. ‘What the hell are you boys doing up here?’ I rasped. ‘Didn’t you get Trevedian’s orders. Every man is wanted down the trail. There’s been a bad fall. One of our trucks is buried.’
A man stepped forward, a big gangling fellow with a battered nose. ‘We only got here yesterday. We heard some sort of a commotion going on and then the trucks pulled out. They must have forgotten about us, I guess. We didn’t know what in hell was going on. We’d just about decided to take one of the trucks and go down and find out. We thought mebbe they were scared of another slide.’
I said, ‘Well, you’d better get down there as fast as you can. It’s an emergency call. Trevedian wants everybody down there.’
‘Then why didn’t you boys stay there?’
‘We had to clear the road,’ I said quickly. ‘Besides he wasn’t risking this stuff. It’s got to be up the top and ready to start operating tomorrow. Anybody on the hoist?’
‘I don’t know,’ the big fellow answered. ‘We’re new here.’
‘Well, if you’re new here you’d better look lively and get down the road. Trevedian’s a bad man to fall out with.’
‘Tough, eh? Well, nobody ain’t going to get tough with me.’ His voice was drowned in a babble of talk. Then the men began to drift away to their hut. I signalled the driver to go on and we rumbled into the trees and down the slope to the edge of the slide. A glow pierced the darkness ahead, resolved itself into an arc light hanging from a tall pine pole. There were others, a whole circle of lights blazing on the dazzling white of the snow, lighting up the concrete box of the cable housing. A figure appeared, armed with a rifle. ‘Hell!’ I breathed. That damned fool Butler had failed to collect the guard.
I clambered down from the cab and started to explain. But as soon as I told him we’d got to get our trucks up the hoist he began asking me for my pass. ‘Don’t be a Goddamn fool, man,’ I shouted. ‘Trevedian’s down at the fall trying to clear it. How in hell would he issue passes? Can you work the motor?’
He shook his head uncertainly.
‘Well, probably one of my men can handle it,’ I said.
But he said, ‘Nobody’s allowed to touch the engine except the hoist men.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ I yelled at him. ‘This isn’t routine. This is an emergency. Don’t you know what’s happened?’ He shook his head. I leaned closer. ‘Better keep this under your hat. Nobody’s supposed to know. There’s a bad crack developed in the foundations of the dam. They think the cliff face may be moving. We’ve got to drill and find out what the strata underneath is formed of. And we’ve got to do it damned quick.’ I caught hold of his arm. ‘Christ, man what do you think we’re doing up here when one of our own trucks is buried under a fall? We wanted to stay and help dig him out. But Trevedian wouldn’t let us. He said it was more important to get our trucks up on schedule.’
The man hesitated, conviction struggling against caution. ‘You wait here,’ he said and hurried back to the housing. Garry joined me. Through the slit I could see him winding and winding at the telephone. ‘What’s going to happen?’ Garry asked.
‘It’ll work out,’ I said.
‘Well, no rough stuff,’ he growled. ‘We’ve done about $10,000 worth of damage already tonight.’
‘They’d have a job to prove we did it,’ I said.
‘Mebbe. But if you try pulling a gun on this guy . . .’
‘I haven’t got a gun on me,’ I snapped irritably. ‘And anyway I’m not that much of a fool.’
The guard came out of the housing. ‘I can’t get any reply.’ His voice was hesitant. He was unsure of himself.
‘What did you expect?’ I snarled at him. ‘There’s a million tons of rock down on the road and the line’s under it. In any case, Trevedian’s at the fall, not in his office.’ I turned as figures emerged into the glare of the lights led by the man with the battered nose. ‘What’s the trouble?’ I said.
‘No keys in the trucks,’ he said. ‘What do we do now?’ They were muffled in fur jackets and windbreakers. Some carried picks and shovels. ‘If we could have one of your trucks,’ he said.
I hesitated. But the snow was falling thick. Much as I wanted to get rid of them I didn’t dare risk one of the trucks. ‘Are you just labourers or have any of you been taken on as engineers on the draw works of the hoist here?’
It was a shot in the dark, a hundred to one chance, but it came off. One of them stepped forward. ‘Please. I am engaged to replace an engineer who is seek.’ Dark eyes flashed in a sallow face. ‘I am shown how eet works yesterday.’ He smiled ingratiatingly.
‘Good,’ I said. ‘Get in there and get the engine started.’ And as the little Italian hurried over to the housing I turned to the guard. ‘There. Does that satisfy you? Goddamn it,’ I added. ‘You’d think that piece of machinery was something new in atomic weapons the way you fuss about it.’
‘But my orders—’
‘Damn your orders!’ I screamed, catching hold of him by his coat and shaking him. ‘It’s just a diesel engine. Like any other damned diesel engine. And this stuff has got to be up there first thing. And because of your blasted Trevedian and this bloody dam we’re up here instead of helping to dig out one of our pals. I wish to God we’d never been given the job. But it’s a thousand bucks a day this outfit costs and there’ll be hell to pay if we’re not up there on schedule, snow or no snow.’ I swung round on the silent, gaping crowd of men. ‘All right. You stay here and give us a hand loading the trucks. Garry!’ He didn’t answer. He stood there, staring at me and for the first time that night I saw a gleam of excitement in his eyes, a hint of laughter. ‘Get your first truck on to the staging. These men will help you load and secure. Boy! You ride up with the first vehicle and surpervise the off-loading at the top. And see that you don’t waste any time.’ I turned to the bunch of men, standing there like sheep. ‘Any of you cook?’ It was the inevitable Chinaman who came forward. ‘All right,’ I said. ‘You get up to the cookhouse. I want hot chow for all of us in two hours’ time. Okay?’
‘Okay, mister. I can do. Velly good cook.’
‘See it’s hot,’ I shouted at him. ‘That’s all I care about.’
I turned then and went into the housing. The pilot motor was already running. The little Italian engineer grinned at me. The guard hovered uncertainly. The cable wheel trembled and the cage bumped as the rig truck was driven on to the staging. The guard touched my arm. His face was pale and he was still uncertain. He opened his mouth to say something and then the big diesel started with a roar that drowned all other sound. I saw a look of helplessness come into his eyes and he turned away.
I knew then that we were through the worst. He couldn’t hold the whole gang of us up with his rifle. Besides it must have seemed all right. I’d more than twenty men from the camp working with me. I had come in quite openly. All that made him doubtful, I imagine, was that his instructions had been dinned into him very thoroughly and forcefully.
Five minutes later the draw works began to turn and the first and heaviest truck went floating off into the whirling, driving white of the night. It was there for a second,
white under its canopy of snow, looking strangely unreal suspended from the cable, and then it reached the limits of the lights and vanished abruptly. It was like a scene from a pantomime where some object takes to the air and is lost as it moves from the circle of the spotlight.
I stayed inside the engine housing. I was safe there. Nobody could talk to me against the roar of the engine. One or two tried, but gave it up. I had warned Garry to see that all his men knew the story and stuck to it if they got into conversation with any of the men from the camp or if the guard started asking questions. Shortly after two-thirty the Chinaman brought down big thermos flasks full of thick soup, piping hot, and a great pile of meat sandwiches. Three trucks were up by then. A fourth was just leaving. We sent one flask up with it. The snow was still falling. ‘It sure must be hell up top,’ one of the drivers said. His face was a white circle in the fur of his hood. ‘Have you been up on this thing, Mr Wetheral?’
‘Yes,’ I said. And suddenly I realised he was scared. ‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘You won’t see anything. It’ll just be cold as hell.’
He nodded and swallowed awkwardly. ‘I’m scared of heights, I guess.’
Somebody shouted to him. His mouth worked convulsively. ‘I must go now. That’s my truck.’
‘Switch your cab lights on,’ I called after him as he climbed on to the staging. ‘It’ll just be like a road then.’
He nodded. And a moment later he was on his way, a white bloodless face staring at the wheel he was gripping as the diesel roared and the cables swung him up and out into the night.
By four o’clock the sixth truck was being loaded. Every few minutes now I found myself glancing at my watch. Eight minutes past four and the hoist was running again. Only one more truck. ‘What’s worrying you?’ Garry shouted above the din of the engine.
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