XII.
BROOKE IS CARRIED AWAY.
The flume was finished, and the dam already progressing well, when onemorning Devine came out, somewhat grim in face, from the new adit he wasdriving at the Canopus. The captain of the mine also came with him, andstood still, evidently in a state of perplexity, when Devine looked athim.
"Well," said the latter, brusquely, "what are we going to do, Wilkins?"
The captain blinked at the forest with eyes not yet accustomed to thechange of light, as though in search of inspiration, which apparentlydid not come.
"There's plenty timber yonder," he said.
"There is," said Devine, drily. "Still, as we can't touch a log of it,it isn't much use to us. There is no doubt about the validity of thepatent that fellow holds it under either, and it covers everything rightback to the canyon. He doesn't seem disposed to make any terms with me."
Wilkins appeared to reflect. "Hanging off for a bigger figure, but thereare points I'm not quite clear about. Mackinder's not quite the man toplay that game--I guess I know him well, and if it had been left tohim, once he saw there were dollars in the thing, he'd have jumped righton to them and lit out for the cities to raise Cain with them. Now, Ikind of wonder if there's a bigger man behind him."
"That's my end of the business," said Devine, with a little grim smile."I'll take care of it. There are men in the cities who would find anydead-beat dollars if he wanted them for a fling at me. The questionis--What about the mine? You feel reasonably sure we're going to strikeore that will pay for the crushing at the end of that adit?"
Wilkins glanced round at the forest, and then lowered his voice atrifle, though it was some distance off and there was nobody else about.
"We have got to, sir--and it's there if it's anywhere," he said. "Youhave seen the yield on the lower workings going down until it's justabout worth while to keep the stamps going, and though none of the boysseem to notice anything, there are signs that are tolerably clear to methat the pay dirt's running right out. Still, I guess the chances ofstriking it again rich on the different level are good enough for me toput 'most every dollar I have by me in on a share of the crushings. Ican't say any more than that."
"No," said Devine, drily. "Anyway, I'm going on with the adit. But aboutthe timber?"
"Well, we will want no end of props, and that's a fact. It's quite abig contract to hold up the side of a mountain when you're workingthrough soft stuff and crumbly rock, and the split-logs we've beenworrying along with aren't going to be much use to us. We want roundprops, grown the size we're going to use, with the strength the tree wasmeant to have in them."
Devine looked thoughtful. "Then I'll have to get you them. Say nothingto the boys, and see nobody who doesn't belong to the gang you have sentthere puts his foot in any part of the mine. It is, of course, speciallynecessary to keep the result of the crushings quiet. I'm not telling youthis without a reason."
Wilkins went back into the adit, and Devine proceeded to flounder roundthe boundaries of the Englishman's abandoned ranch, which he had boughtup for a few hundred dollars, chiefly because of the house on it. Itconsisted, for the most part, of a miry swamp, which the few prospectorswho had once or twice spent the night with him said had broken the heartof the Englishman after a strenuous attempt to drain it, while the restwas rock outcrop, on which even the hardy conifers would not grow.Devine, who wet himself to the knees during his peregrination, had asurvey plan with him, but he could see no means of extending his rightsbeyond the crumbling split-rail fence, and inside the latter there wereno trees that appeared adapted for mining purposes. Willows straggledover the wetter places, and little, half-rotten pines stood totteringhere and there in a tangled chaos a man could scarcely force his waythrough, but when he had wasted an hour or two, and was muddy all over,it became evident that he was scarcely likely to come upon a foot oftimber that would be of any use to him. He had, of course, been toldthis, but he had on other occasions showed the men who pointed outinsuperable difficulties to him that they were mistaken.
Devine, however, was, as that fact would indicate, not the man to bereadily turned aside. He wanted mine props, and meant to obtain them,and, though his face grew a trifle grimmer, he climbed the hillside towhere Brooke was busy knee-deep in water at the dam. He signed to him,and then, taking out his cigar-case, sat down on a log and looked at theyounger man.
"Take one!" he said.
Brooke lighted a cigar, and sat down, with the water draining from him."We'll have another tier of logs bolted on to the framing by to-morrownight," he said.
Devine glanced at the dam indifferently. "You take kindly to this kindof thing?" he said.
Brooke smiled a little, for he had of late been almost astonished at hisgrowing interest in his work. Of scientific engineering he knew nothing,though he remembered that several relatives of his had made their markat it, but every man who lives any time in the bush of the Pacific slopeof necessity acquires some skill with axe and cross-cut saw, besides aworking acquaintance with the principles of construction. Wooden houses,bridges, dams, must be built, and now and then a wagon road underpinnedwith redwood logs along the side of a precipice. He had done his shareof such work, but he had, it seemed, of late become endued with aboldness of conception and clearness of insight into the best means ofovercoming the difficulties to be faced, which had now and thenastonished those who assisted him.
"I really think I do, though I don't know why I should," he said. "Inever undertook anything of the description in England."
"Then I guess it must be in the family. Any of your folks doing wellback there as mechanics?"
Brooke smiled somewhat drily. As a matter of fact, a near kinsman of hishad gained distinction in the Royal Engineers, and another's name wasfamous in connection with irrigation works in Egypt. He did not,however, feel it in any way incumbent on him to explain this to Devine.
"I could not exactly say they are," he said. "Anyway, isn't it a littleoutside the question?"
"Well," said Devine, drily, "I don't quite know. What's born in a manwill come out somehow, whether it's good for him or not. Now, I wasthinking over another piece of work you might feel inclined to putthrough for me."
Brooke became suddenly intent, and Devine noticed the little gleam inhis eyes as he said, "If you can give me any particulars----"
"Come along," said Devine, a trifle grimly, "and I'll show you them.Then if you still feel willing to go into the thing we can worry out mynotion."
Brooke rose and followed him along the hillside, which was seamed withrock outcrop and thinly covered with brushwood, while the roar of watergrew louder in his ears. When they had made a mile or so Devine stoppedand looked about him.
"It wouldn't cost too much to clear a ground-sled trail from here to themine," he said. "A team of mules could haul a good many props in over itin a day."
"But where are you going to get them from?" said Brooke.
Devine smiled curiously. "Come along a little further, and I'll showyou."
Again Brooke went with him, wondering a little, for he knew that a canyonwould cut off all further progress presently, until Devine stopped oncemore where the hillside fell sheer away beneath them.
"Now," he said, quietly, "I guess we're there. You can see plenty youngfirs that would make mining props yonder."
Brooke certainly could. The hillside in front of him rose, steep as aroof, to the ridge where the tufts of ragged pines were silhouetted insombre outline against the gleaming snow behind. Streaked with driftingmist, they rolled upwards in serried ranks, and there was apparentlytimber enough for half the mines in the province. The difficulty,however, was the reaching it, for, between him and it, a green-stainedtorrent thundered through a tremendous gap, whose walls were worn smoothand polished for four hundred feet or so. Above that awful chasm rosebare and slippery slopes of rock, on which there was foothold forneither man nor beast, and only a stunted pine clung here and there inthe crannies. What the total depth was he did not kno
w, but he recoiledinstinctively from the contemplation of it, and would have drawn back ayard or two only that Devine stood still, looking down into the gap withhis usual grim smile.
Still, it was a minute or two before he was sensible of more than avague awe and a physical shrinking from that tremendous display ofNature's forces, and then, by degrees, his brain commenced to record thedetails of the scene. He saw the snow-fed river diminished by distanceto a narrow green riband swirling round the pools, and frothing with acurious livid whiteness over reef and boulder far down in the dimness.The roar it made came up in long pulsations of sound, which were flungback by the climbing pines that seemed to tremble in unison with it.The rocks were hollowed a trifle at their bases, and arched above theriver. It was, as a picture, awe-inspiring and sublime, but from apractical point of view an apparently insurmountable barrier between theowner of the Canopus mine and the timber he desired. Devine, however,knew better, for he was a man who had grappled with a good manyapparently insuperable difficulties, and Brooke became sensible that heexpected an expression of opinion from him.
"The timber is certainly there, but I quite fail to see how it could beof the least use to anybody situated where we are," he said. "That canyonis, I should fancy, one of the deepest in the province."
Devine nodded, but the little smile was still in his eyes, and hepointed to the one where, by crawling down the gully a torrent hadfretted out, an agile man might reach a jutting crag a couple of hundredfeet below.
"The point is that it isn't very wide," he said. "It wouldn't take agreat many fathoms of steel rope to reach across it."
Brooke realized that, because the crag projected a little, this wascorrect; but as yet the suggestion conveyed no particular meaning tohim.
"No," he said. "Still, it isn't very evident what use that would be."
Devine laughed. "Now, if you had told me you knew anything aboutengineering, you would have given yourself away. Have you never heard ofan aerial tramway? It's quite simple--a steel rope set up tight, a winchfor hauling, and a trolley. With that working, and a skid-slide up thegully, one could send over the props we want without much difficulty. Itwould be cheaper than buying off the timber-righters."
Brooke gasped as the daring simplicity of the scheme dawned on him. Ifone had nerve enough to undertake it the thing was perfectly feasible,and he turned to Devine with a glow in his eyes.
"It could be done," he said. "Still, do you know anybody who would bewilling to stretch that rope across?"
Devine looked at him steadily, noticing the slight dilation of hisnostrils and the intentness of his face.
"Well," he said, drily, "I was going to ask you."
The blood surged into Brooke's forehead, and for the time he forgot hissix thousand dollars and that the man who made the suggestion hadplundered him of them. He had, during the course of his Englisheducation, shown signs of a certain originality and daring of thoughtwhich had slightly astonished those who taught him, and then had loungedthree or four years away in the quiet valley, where originality of anykind was not looked upon with favor. The men and women he had beenbrought into contact with in London were also, for the most part, thosewho regarded everything from the accepted point of view, and hisengagement to the girl his friends regarded with disapproval had, thoughhe did not suspect this at the time, been in part, at least, a protestagainst the doctrine that no man of his station must do anything thatwas not outwardly befitting and convenient to it.
The revolt had brought him disaster, as it usually does, but it had alsothrust upon him the necessity of thinking for himself, though evenduring his two years' struggle on the worthless ranch he had notrealized what qualities he was endued with, for it was not until he metBarbara Heathcote by the river that they were wholly stirred intoactivity. Then ambition, self-confidence, and lust of conflict with menand Nature asserted themselves, for it was, in point of fact, a swordshe had brought him. Still, he was as yet a trifle inconsequent andprecipitate in his activities, for at times the purpose which had senthim to the Canopus mine faded into insignificance, and he becameoblivious to everything beyond the pleasure he found in the grapple withnatural difficulties he was engaged in. Those who had known Brooke inEngland would have had little difficulty in recognizing him morally orphysically as he stood, brawny and sinewy, in ragged jean, high abovethe thundering river.
"Then I'll undertake it," he said, with a little vibration in hisvoice.
Devine looked hard at him again. "Feel sure you can do it? You'll wantgood nerves."
"I think I can," said Brooke, with a quietness the other manappreciated.
"Then you can go down to the Mineral Development's new shaft, where theyhave one of those tramways working, and see how they swing their oreacross the valley. I'll give you a line to the manager. Start whenyou're ready."
Devine said nothing further as they turned back towards the mine, butBrooke felt that the bargain was already made. His companion was not theman to haggle over non-essentials, but one who knew what he wanted andusually went straight to the point. Brooke left him presently, and,turning off where the flume climbed to the dam, came upon Jimmy,tranquilly leaning upon his shovel while he watched the two or three menwho toiled waist-deep in water.
"I was kind of wondering whether she wouldn't be stiffer with anotherlog or two in that framing?" he said, in explanation.
"Of course!" said Brooke, drily. "It's more restful than shovelling.Still, that's my affair, and you'll have to rustle more and wonder less.I'm going to leave you in charge here."
Jimmy grinned. "Then I guess the way that dam will grow will astonishyou when you come back again. Where're you going to?"
Brooke told him, and Jimmy contemplated the forest reflectively.
"Well," he said, "nobody who saw you at the ranch would ever havefigured you had snap enough to put a contract of that kind through.Still, you have me behind you."
"A good way, as a rule," said Brooke, drily. "Especially when there isanything one can get very wet at to be done. Still, I shouldn't wonderif you were quite correct. I scarcely think I ever suspected I had it inmyself."
Jimmy still ruminated. "A man is like a mine. You see the indications onthe top, but you can't be sure whether there's gold at the bottom ordirt that won't pay for washing, until you set the drills going or putin the giant powder and shake everything up. Still, I can't quite figurehow anything of that kind could have happened to you."
Brooke flashed a quick glance at him, but Jimmy's eyes were vacant, andhe was apparently watching a mink slip in and out among the roots of acedar.
"There is a good deal of gravel waiting down there, and only two men toheave it out," he said.
"Oh, yes," said Jimmy, tranquilly. "Still, it's a good while until it'sdark, and I was thinking. Now, if you had the dollars you threw awayover that ranch, and me for a partner, you'd make quite a smartcontractor. While they're wanting flumes and bridges everywhere, it's agame one can pile up dollars at."
Brooke's face flushed a trifle, and he slowly closed one hand.
"Confound the six thousand dollars, and you for reminding me of them!"he said. "Get on with your shovelling."
A Damaged Reputation Page 12
