Flying Eagle

by Tim Champlin

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jay forced down the panic as he stared into those slitted eyes that were fixed on him. “Move away—slowly,” he said finally regaining control of his legs and stepping softly backward. He had always heard that a rattlesnake could strike twice the length of its body, and he estimated this one to be more than five feet long and as big around as his arm. Its venom would be deadly.

  Cautiously, gradually, he retreated, watching the poised head, and ready to spring aside if it struck, knowing that he probably would not be quick enough. Out of the comer of his eye he could see Fletcher Hall and Marvin Cutter moving carefully back toward the lower end of the short cave.

  When he knew he was out of range, his breath escaped in an involuntary rush.

  “If we stay down here at the far end and don’t move, they’ll probably go on about their business,” Hall whispered hoarsely.

  “Their business might be having us for supper,” Cutter replied.

  But Hall was right. In a few minutes, the big rattlers, one by one, dropped out of their defensive coils. Jay shivered at the whispering sounds of their bodies moving across the fine sand and dust of the rock floor toward their lair somewhere beyond the crack that opened into the base of the back wall.

  “Wish I had some matches,” Hall said. “Fire would keep them at bay.”

  “As long as they don’t perceive us as a threat, we should be all right,” Jay said.

  “Wonder how we let ’em know that,” Cutter snickered nervously.

  “First good cold snap will probably send them underground for the winter,” Jay continued in a low voice. “But as long as the sun is warm during the day, they’ll be out sunning themselves.”

  “In the meantime, we share this cave with them,” Cutter said. “That’s comforting. I wonder if that little half-breed knew they were here.”

  “I’m sure he did. That’s probably one reason we’re here. This is something that would appeal to his twisted sense of humor.”

  The last of the snakes disappeared into the crack and the three men sat down on the sloping floor to rest as the twilight deepened into darkness.

  “Wish I had some matches,” Hall said again, sucking on his empty pipe. “Got a little tobacco left, but they took my matches when they took my gun and my penknife.”

  Eyeing the crack at the back of the cave to be sure the reptiles were gone for the time being, Jay walked to the upper end of the cave and carefully pushed aside the branches of the small cedar tree. The light was dying but he carefully studied the cliff face where the cave opening narrowed back into it. The upthrust of the ancient rock had been at the same angle as the cave—about thirty degrees. Erosion had either created or enlarged this cave, and the same forces of wind and water were still at work on the cliff face. The runoff from above, the water seeping between the layers of rock, the expanding and contracting forces of frost, had grooved the rock layers, forming larger cracks.

  After a good ten minutes, he returned to his companions.

  “Whatcha looking at?”

  “Those snakes had to come from somewhere,” Jay replied. ‘They didn’t fly up or down here. There’s a narrow ledge leading from the upper end of this cave. A man would have to turn his feet sideways and press flat against the cliff to walk on it. It goes up and out about twenty or thirty feet and then I can’t see any farther because of a bulge in the wall.”

  “You thinking about trying it?” Cutter asked.

  Jay didn’t reply for a moment. Then he said, “I might.” He knew he would have to do it soon, before his strength began to ebb and, with it, his resolve. “Maybe early in the morning when I can see better.”

  Hall was eyeing him in the deepening shadows. “Think you can make it? I’m probably too short and stout to try it,” he added.

  Jay shrugged. “I don’t know what other choice we have. I’ll try to get some sleep and then go when it’s light enough to see.”

  “The rocks may be damp and slick early in the morning,” Hall said. “And we don’t know what time our friends get up,” he added, gesturing at the back of the cave.

  He had voiced the two fears that Jay had already thought of and tried to put from his mind.

  “I wouldn’t want to meet them on the trail. But, on the other hand, I don’t think that ledge, as far as I could see, is wide enough for a snake to coil for a good strike. Still, I don’t want any distractions.”

  They were silent with their thoughts for a few minutes. Cutter stretched out with his dirty jacket rolled up for a pillow on the hard floor.

  “I’d swear those rattlers came down from the ridge above,” Jay said, as if to convince himself.

  “They were crawling on their bellies,” Hall said. “No worry about balancing on two feet.”

  Jay took a deep breath. “Well, I’m going for it in the morning, regardless. I don’t see any other way, except to sit tight, waiting for rescue, and maybe die in here.”

  That ended the conversation, and they all stretched out at the lower end of the cave to rest.

  It was a long, terror-filled night with nightmares of snakes. Jay dreamed he was climbing the outside of the Palace Hotel in San Francisco. Just as he was nearing the top, his hand slipped on a window ledge and he went plunging into space. He could see the carriages and the cobblestone street rushing up at him and he jerked awake in a cold sweat, his own cry of fear ringing in his ears. He didn’t know how long he had slept, but he got up, breathing hard, and edged away from the two sleeping forms who stirred uneasily, but did not waken.

  He went to the mouth of the cave where he could see millions of stars glittering in the black vault of sky. When he gradually calmed down from the too-realistic dream, he shivered in the chill night breeze that was raking along the face of the cliff. He sat down carefully and let his lower legs hang over the lip of rock. He had heard that all men are born with a fear of heights, but this had never particularly bothered him. Even the balloon flight had been more thrilling than fearful. His own personal fear was one of close, airless places. While in mineshafts, train tunnels, caves, and dense crowds, the demon of claustrophobia had crawled up out of his subconscious to create some unreasoning panic. But if he could get a hand­hold, he thought he could walk this ledge. If he got to a point where he could go no farther, he could always come back. He just hoped the snakes did not have some sort of underground passage where they were able to slither up to the ridgetop. Well, he would know before long. The moon, if there had been one, had already set, and he thought he could just detect a slight lightening of the night sky. The sun would come up behind the cave so maybe the snakes would not be abroad until the sun was high and the air was warmed. In addition, without the sun directly on the rock wall early in the day to erase the shadows, he could probably pick out the tiny crevices and handholds he would need.

  He shivered again as the nightwind penetrated his clothing still damp with sweat.

  “Well, wish me luck,” Jay said, stripping off his jacket and dropping it on the floor. “If those snakes come out while I’m out there, use my coat to distract them, or knock them over the edge, or whatever you can do,” he added, wiping his moist palms on his pants legs. “If I fall, you’re on your own. If I make it to the top, I’ll get help and be back as soon as I can. I’ll holler down from the top if I make it.”

  “When you make it,” Hall said, quietly.

  It was full daylight, but the sun was still well down behind the ridge, and the forested valley sloping away two hundred feet below the cave was still in deep green shadow.

  Jay did not look down as he slipped past the small cedar tree and slid his feet out along the narrow ledge. He worked his fingers carefully into the parallel cracks and seams in the weathered strata at head level as he moved along. Inch by inch and foot by foot he worked his way, glancing alternately at his feet and up at his hands. When he reached the bulge in the wall some thirty feet away from the cave, the foot ledge seemed to disappear, and he paused to survey the situ
ation. The ledge seemed to pass underneath the bulge. If, somehow, he could will his knees to bend backward and keep his toes in the crack, he might be able to make it. Barring that, it looked like a dead end for him.

  “What’s the matter?” Hall called.

  Jay turned his back toward the cave for the first time, scraping his cheek on the bare rock as he did so.

  “Can’t figure a way around this jutting rock.”

  He turned his head back to the obstacle. Maybe he could climb over it. He was beginning to breathe a little heavier now as a result of the strain of holding his body flush against the mountain. He tried not to think of what would happen if he slipped. He scrutinized the cracked rock for toeholds.

  He looked again to make sure he couldn’t somehow squeeze past the hump of rock. Then he took a deep breath and pulled with his fingertips, reaching for a toehold in a small crack. He pushed his body up and felt for another hold for his other foot. His toe scraped naked rock for a second or two and then caught in a tiny irregularity. It wasn’t deep enough to hold his weight. The breath was rasping harshly in his throat and sweat trickled down his face, tickling him. He felt desperately for another handhold as fear tightened his stomach. He got the fingers of his left hand into a higher crack and pushed off with his left foot. Then he felt for a spot for his right foot and found one. He clung to the face of the bare rock, gasping, before going on. He was distracted by a shout from the cave, but, in his precarious position, dared not try to look or respond to find out what the yell was about. The hump of rock was almost below him now, and its rounded surface afforded no place to rest.

  He moved slowly and carefully, testing each hold. His fingers were aching fearfully from the unaccustomed strain. He shifted his hold twice more and gained another five feet. He was almost over and past the jutting boulder now and he chanced a look down. There was the ledge again, slicing out from under and slanting up toward the unseen ridgetop once more. Sweat was streaming from his face and his heart was pounding, but he felt a moment of elation at seeing it. He began to ease himself back down toward it. He fixed the position of the narrow ledge with his eyes before he began to feel for it with his foot. He let his weight down on his left foot and then, very carefully, his right until he stood on the narrow ledge once more. He wondered briefly what the shout was about, but he was now on the other side of the bulge of rock and out of sight of the cave. And all his attention had to be focused on the task at hand. He stopped for a minute to rest as best he could with his cheek and body pressed against the seamed rock, his feet turned sideways to support his weight. He moved his head slightly so he could glance down to his left at the ledge. He traced it with his eyes as it angled up and away from him. To his relief, it widened out to a foot and then to nearly two feet. If he could just keep a handhold and not look down, his way appeared clear for another ten or twelve yards. And the way the ledge angled upward, he would then be no more than fifteen feet from the top. He was a long way from safety, but his hopes rose slightly. Patience, balance, and concentration would see him to the top of the ridge. A good dose of luck would also help, he thought, taking a deep breath to steady his pounding heart before he proceeded. His hands were beginning to ache from gripping. He removed one hand at a time from the seam of rock just above head level and held his arm down to his side, letting the blood flow back into each hand, flexing his fingers. Only then did he start again. He shifted his weight and slid his left foot carefully.

  Just then his fingers touched something alive. He jerked his hand back and nearly threw himself off balance. He teetered on the edge, trying desperately to stay upright. With the fingers of one hand clutching a flat edge, he just did manage to pull his body back against the rock wall, where he stood, his legs quivering, his breath rasping.

  Something was up there, just out of sight above head level and he did not dare put his left hand back up. He wanted to remove his right hand from the large crack also, but dared not for fear of falling. He still had to angle his feet to stand on the ledge and he needed at least one handhold to keep him steady. But now he was stuck. In order to move farther, he had to slide his hands along that crack. It was the only way, since the bare rock provided no other seams he could reach that were large enough to get his fingers into. He fought down a cold fear and tried to think. Was there some animal up there? He heard a slight scuffling noise. What had it felt like? He didn’t remember feeling fur or feathers. Yet, something had moved and his startled reflex had nearly overbalanced him from his precarious perch. Nothing had flown, and the slight noise told him the thing was still there.

  The rock wall had curved outward as he moved along, and he could now feel the early morning sun warming the top of his head. He ran his eyes along the crack and saw that it appeared to pinch downward toward the ledge as it went farther. If he could get past this spot a few feet, he could see where he was putting his hands. Hanging on with his right hand, he moved his left foot as far as he could stretch. Then he let go with his hand and, in one quick motion, grabbed for the seam where it was lower.

  As soon as his head came level with the crack, he heard the dreaded buzzing and found himself eye-to-eye with the biggest rattlesnake he had ever seen.

  “YYEEEOOOUU!!” Surprise and fear burst from his throat as the snake struck at his face. Jay jerked his head to the left and felt something hit the side of his neck.

  Suddenly he was falling, his hands and feet flailing the air, and he knew he was gone.

  Then his body slammed to a stop and everything went black.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When Jay heard a faraway voice calling his name, he knew he was in eternity. He was drifting on a dreamy sea, and then could see a far-off light. It was a comforting feeling, and he longed to move toward the warm light above him at the end of the long tunnel, but he could not make himself move. Was this heaven? Was this what it was like to die? It was such a pleasant experience, why would anyone fear it? If he could only reach that soft light!

  He heard his name called again, and consciousness began to return. Then the pain in his head and neck told him that he was not dead. He took a shuddering breath and his eyes flickered open and the face of the rock wall swam into view. He struggled to move. He was in the arms of a stunted pine that clung precariously to a seam in the cliff face about twenty feet below the ledge he had fallen from. Once again, a tree had probably saved his life.

  Blood was trickling from his mouth where he had bitten his tongue severely and chipped a tooth when his chin had connected with something. He moved slowly and a stabbing pain in his left side made him catch his breath. At least a couple of ribs broken, he guessed. He shakily reached a hand to the side of his neck. There was no blood, no puncture wound; the skin was smooth and firm. His fingers felt the pulse’s steady throbbing. He was bruised and battered, but alive.

  “Jay McGraw! Can you hear me?” came the voice from above. Someone was calling his name! He ripped his shirt loose from a clutching limb. Astride the angled trunk, and holding the prickly needles away from his face, he located the cave above and to his right. Hall and Cutter were peering out of the mouth of the cave, but they were looking up, not down. The pain in his head was severe as he bent his neck back and ran his eyes along the edge of the ridge some fifty feet above him.

  “Jay McGraw!” the voice yelled. “Are you hurt?” The voice had a familiar ring to it, but Jay’s senses were still somewhat numbed, and the rock wall seemed to be swaying in and out. Then the man moved slightly and Jay spotted the head and shoulders of Vincent Gorraiz.

  In spite of his pain and precarious position, relief flooded over Jay, and he breathed a prayer of thanks. He knew Divine Providence had once again spared him for whatever obscure reason.

  “I’m all right!” He tried to raise his hand, but the sharp pain in his side stopped the motion halfway.

  It took another thirty minutes and much pain to get Jay to the top of the cliff. Gorraiz lowered a rope with a loop in the end of it that Jay slippe
d one foot into. After numerous stops to rest his ribs, Jay stood weakly at the top, hugging the stocky shepherd with his good right arm.

  “God, I’m glad to see you! I won’t even ask how you found us until we get Hall and Cutter up here.”

  By the time the other two men stood with them, and Gorraiz was untying his rope from a nearby tree, the sun was streaming its rays through the foliage of the tall pines on the ridgetop.

  “Thought you were a goner,” Hall said. “We heard you yell and saw you fall. You hit that little tree so hard it bent like a spring. Lucky it didn’t throw you off.”

  “A dead snag got twisted in my shirt and held me,” Jay said.

  “You could have been speared like a boiled potato.”

  Jay nodded. “Instead, it almost caved in my side.”

  Hall reached over and extracted a thorn from Jay’s shirt collar. As he held it up, they both saw it was not a thorn, but a curved, needle-sharp snake fang. Jay felt the blood drain from his face as he stared at it. A half­inch to one side and his carotid artery would have been penetrated. Then, it wouldn’t have mattered that the stunted tree had broken his fall.

  Hall needed no explanation. “A souvenir,” he said, slipping the fang into Jay’s shirt pocket. ‘The rest of him is probably decorating a rock at the foot of that cliff.”

  “My cousin showed up with a wagonload of supplies just a few hours after you were taken,” the bearded shepherd said, coiling the rope. “I told him the story as we unloaded the wagon and put the supplies in the cabin. I also hid your Wells Fargo sacks there in a bag of flour. My cousin is a more peaceable man than I am, and it didn’t take long for me to persuade him to look after the flock with the dog while I took his wagon and rifle to come looking for you.”

  Gorraiz motioned with his head and the four of them started back through the pine grove and down the back side of the ridge toward the road. Jay thought he had never smelled anything as good in all his life as that crisp, pine-scented morning air.