XX.
THE BRIDGING OF THE CANON.
It was a week or two after he undertook the investigation of Slocum'saffairs, and once more the light was failing, when Devine stood at thehead of the gully above the canyon. His wife and Barbara were with him,and they were about to descend, when a cluster of moving figuresappeared among the pines on the opposite hillside. So far as Devinecould make out, they were rolling down two or three small trunks offirs.
The river was veiled in white mist now, but the sound of its turmoilcame up hoarsely out of the growing obscurity, and there was sufficientlight above to show the rope which spanned the awful chasm. It sweptdownwards in a flattened curve, slender and ethereal, at that distance,as a film of gossamer, and lost itself in the gloom of the rocks, acrossthe canyon. Barbara, however, fancied she realized what it had cost theflume-builder to place it there, and, as he glanced at it, a somewhatcurious look crept into Devine's eyes. He knew that slender thread ofsteel had only been flung across the hollow at the risk of life andlimb, and under a heavy nervous strain.
"If we are going down, hadn't we better start?" said Mrs. Devine. "If itgets quite dark before we come up, I shall certainly have to stay thereuntil to-morrow. In fact, I'm quite willing to let you and Barbara gowithout me now."
Devine smiled. "I'm not sure we'll go at all. It seems to me Brookemeans to give the thing a private trial before he asks me to come overand see it work, and that's why he waited until it was almost dark. Canyou make him out, Barbara?"
Barbara had, as a matter of fact, already done so, but she realized thather sister's eyes were upon her, and for no very apparent reasonpreferred not to admit it.
"It is getting a little shadowy among the pines, and Katty used to tellme she had sharper eyes than mine," she said.
Mrs. Devine laughed. "Still," she said, reflectively, "I scarcely thinkI have seen Mr. Brooke quite so often as you have."
Devine glanced at them both a trifle sharply, but there was nothing intheir faces that gave him a clue to their thoughts. "Well," he said,"I'm a good deal older than either of you, but I can make him out myselfnow. As usual, he seems to be doing most of the work."
Nobody said anything further, and the moving figures stopped where therope ran into the shadows of the rocks, while it was a few minutes laterwhen a long, dusky object swung out on it. It slid somewhat slowly downthe incline, and then stopped where the slight curve led upward, andremained dangling high above the hidden river. A shout came faintlythrough the roar of water in the gulf below, and the dark massoscillated violently, but otherwise remained immovable.
"What are they doing? Shouldn't it have run all the way across?" askedMrs. Devine.
Devine nodded. "I guess they're 'most pulling their arms off trying tohaul the thing across," he said. "It should have come itself, but thesheave the trolley runs on must have jammed, or they haven't pulled allthe kinks and snarls out of the rope. It's quite a big log they'veloaded her with."
The suspended trunk still oscillated, and a faint clinking came up witha hoarse murmur of voices from the hollow. Then there was silence, andDevine, who pointed to a fallen cedar, took out his cigar-case.
"We'll stay right here, and see the thing out," he said. "I guess theboys have quite enough to worry them just now."
Barbara surmised that most of the anxiety would fall on Brooke, andwondered why she should feel as eager as she did to see the fir trunksafely swung across. The economical handling of mining props wasnaturally not a subject she had any particular interest in, though sherealized that the success of his venture was of some importance to theman who had stretched the rope across the canyon. There was no ostensiblereason why it should affect her, and yet she was sensible of a curiousnervous impatience.
In the meanwhile, it was growing darker, and she could not quite seewhat the dim figures across the river were doing. They did not, in fact,appear to be doing anything in particular, beyond standing in a group,while the rope no longer oscillated. A thin, white mist commenced todrift out of the hollow in filmy wisps, and, in a curious fashion,suggested the vast depth of it. The silence the roar of the river brokethrough grew more intense as the chill of the distant snow descended,and the stately pines seemed to grow older and greater of girth. Theydwarfed the tiny clustering figures into insignificance, and as ironcolumns and the raw gashes in the side of the gully faded into thegathering night, it seemed to Barbara that here in her primevalfastnesses Nature ignored man's puny handiwork.
Then it was with a little thrill of anticipation she saw there was amovement among the dusky figures at last, but it cost her an effort tosit still when one of them appeared to move out on the rope, for shefelt she knew who it must be. Devine rose sharply, and flung his cigaraway, while his wife seemed to shiver apprehensively.
"One of them is coming across. Isn't it horribly dangerous?" she said.
Devine nodded. "It depends a good deal on what he means to do, but if hefigures on clearing the jammed trolley there is a risk, especially to aman who has only one sound hand," he said. "They've slung him under thespare one. It's most probably Brooke."
Mrs. Devine glanced at Barbara, and fancied that the rigidity of herattitude was a trifle significant. The girl, however, said nothing, forher lips were pressed together, and she felt a shiver run through her asshe watched the dusky figure sliding down the curving rope. The ropeitself was no longer visible, but the dangling shape that moved acrossthe horrible gulf was forced up by the whiteness of the drifting mistsbelow. She held her breath when it stopped, and swung perilously besidethe pine trunk which oscillated too, and then clenched her fingersviciously as it rose and apparently clutched at something overhead. Thenshe became sensible of the distressful beating of her heart, and thatthe tension was growing unendurable. Dark pines and hillside seemed tohave faded now, and the dim objects outlined against the sliding mistsdominated her attention. Still, though they were invisible to her, thespace between the hoary pines, tremendous rock wall, and never-meltingsnow, formed a fitting arena for that conflict between daring humanityand unsubdued Nature.
Barbara never knew how long she sat there with set lips and strainingeyes, but the time seemed interminable, until at last she gasped whenDevine, who had been standing as motionless as the pines behind him,moved abruptly.
"I guess he has done it," he said. "That man has hard sand in him."
The dusky trunk slid onward; the dangling figure followed it; and ahoarse cry, that had a note of exultation in it as well as relief, cameup when they vanished into the gloom beneath the dark rock's side.
"They've got him, but I guess that's not all they mean," said Devine."Whatever was wrong with it, he has fixed the thing. They've beaten thecanyon. The sling's working."
Then Barbara, rising, stood very straight, with a curious feeling thatshe had a personal part in those men's triumph. It did not even seem tomatter when she felt that Mrs. Devine was looking at her.
"Why don't you shout?" said the latter, significantly.
Barbara laughed, but there was a little vibration in her voice hersister had not often noticed there.
"If I thought any one could hear me, I certainly would," she said.
They stayed where they were a few minutes, until once more a faintcreaking and rattling came out of the mist, and an object, that wasscarcely distinguishable, swung across the chasm. Another followed,until Barbara had counted three of them, and Devine laughed drily asthey turned away.
"It's most of eight miles round by the canyon foot, where one can getacross by the big redwood log, but I guess they'd have taken the trailif Brooke hadn't given them a lead," he said. "It's not easy tounderstand any one, but that's a curious kind of man."
"Is Mr. Brooke more peculiar than the rest of you?" asked Barbara.
Devine seemed to smile, though she could not see him very well.
"Well," he said, drily, "that's rather more than I know, but I have anotion that his difficulty is he isn't quite sure what he would be at.Now, the man who do
es one thing at one time, and all with the samepurpose, is the one who generally gets there first."
"And Brooke does not do that?"
"It kind of seems to me he is being pulled hard two ways at once justnow," said Devine, with a curious little laugh.
Barbara asked no more questions, and said very little to her sister asthey walked home through the pines. She could not blot out the picturewhich, for a few intense minutes, she had gazed upon, though it had beenexasperatingly blurred, and, she felt, considering what it stood for,ineffective in itself--a dim, half-seen figure, dwarfed toinsignificance, swinging across a background of filmy mist. There hadbeen nothing at that distance to suggest the intensity of the effortwhich was the expression of an unyielding will, but she had, by somesubtle sympathy, grasped it all--the daring that recognized the periland disregarded it, and the thrill of the triumph, the wholesomesatisfaction born of the struggle with the primitive forces of theuniverse which man was meant to wage. This, it seemed to her, was anobler one than the strife of the cities, where wealth was less oftencreated than torn or fleeced from one's fellows; for needy humanityflowed in to build her homes and prosper by sturdy toil at every freshrolling back of the gates of the wilderness. The miner and the axemanled the way; but the big plough oxen and plodding packhorse trainfollowed hard along the trails they made. Behind, in long procession,jaded with many sorrows, came the outcasts from crowded Eastern lands,but there was room, and to spare, for all of them in the new Canaan.
That the man who had bridged the canyon would admit any feelings of thekind was, she knew, not to be expected. Men of his description, she haddiscovered, very seldom do, and she could rather fancy him coming freshfrom such a struggle to discuss the climate or the flavor of a cigar.Yet he had once told her that she had brought him a sword, and, as shehad certainly shivered at his peril, she could, without asking herselftroublesome questions, now participate in the victory he had won. Still,she seemed to feel that one could not draw any very apt comparisonbetween him and the stainless hero of the Arthurian legend belted withExcalibur, for Brooke was, she fancied, in the phraseology of thecountry, not that kind of man. That, however, appeared of lessimportance, since she had discovered that perfection is apt to pall onone.
She had, she decided, permitted this train of thought to carry hersufficiently far, when a man appeared suddenly in the shadowy trail. Itwas evident that he did not see them at first, and Barbara fancied hewas a trifle disconcerted and half-disposed to slip back into theundergrowth when he did. He, however, passed them hastily, and Devineswung round and looked after him.
"That wasn't one of Brooke's men?" he said.
"No," said Barbara. "I don't think it was. You didn't recognize him,Katty?"
Mrs. Devine laughed. "If you didn't, I scarcely fancy there was anythingto be gained by asking me."
Barbara was not quite pleased with her sister, but she noticed thatDevine was standing still.
"Was there anything remarkable about the man?" she said.
Devine laughed. "I didn't see his face; but if he's the man I took himfor, nobody would have expected to meet him here."
Then he turned, and they proceeded towards the ranch, while Barbara, whorecollected Devine's speech at the canyon, also remembered her sister hadsaid she would like to know what her husband really thought of Brooke.This had not been very comprehensible to Barbara, who had experienced nogreat trouble in forming what she believed to be an accurate opinionconcerning the flume-builder. It was her feelings towards him thatpresented the difficulty.
In the meanwhile, Brooke had flung himself down in a folding-chair inhis tent. He was soaked with perspiration, his hard hands still quivereda little from the nervous strain, and his bronzed face was a trifle morecolorless than usual, but he was, for the time being, sensible of aquiet exultation. He had done a difficult and dangerous thing, and theflush of success had swept away all his anxieties. He, however, found ita trifle difficult to sit still, and was carefully selecting a cigar inan attempt to compose himself, when a man came in, and took the chairopposite him. Then his face grew a trifle hard, and all sense ofsatisfaction was suddenly reft away from him.
"I scarcely expected you quite so soon, Saxton," he said. "Here arecigars; you'll find some drinkables in the box yonder."
Saxton opened the box he pointed to, and then looked at him with a grinas he took out a bottle.
"I've no great use for California wine. Bourbon whisky's good enough forme," he said. "Who've you been entertaining? Not Devine, anyway."
"Isn't the question a little outside the mark? If you want it, there'swater with ice in it here. It's from the tail of the glacier."
Saxton laughed. "Then it would take a man 'most an hour and a half tobring a pail of it. It's quite easy to tell where you came from. Well,I'm here; but on the other occasions it was I who sent for you."
"There is, however, a difference on this one, though I wouldn't like youto think that was the reason. The fact is, I've been busy."
"Well," said Saxton, "we'll get down to the business one. Still, how'dyou get your arm in a sling?"
"Are you sure you don't know?"
"Quite!" and Saxton's sincerity was evident. "How should I?"
"I had fancied you knew all about it by this time, and felt a littleastonished that you didn't come over, but I see I was mistaken. I triedto get hold of Devine's papers, as I promised you, and came upon anotherman attempting the same thing. During the difference of opinion thatfollowed he shot me."
Saxton rose, and, kicking his chair aside, condemned himself severaltimes as he moved up and down the tent.
"To be quite straight, I put another man on to it, as you didn't seem tobe making much of a show," he said. "Still, what in the name of thunderdid he want to shoot you for, when he knew you were standing in withme?"
"I can't say. The difficulty was that I was not as well informed as heseems to have been. It would have paid you better to be frank with me.Hasn't the man come back to you?"
"No," and Saxton's face grew a trifle vicious, "he hasn't--concern him!You see what that brings us to? I felt sure of that man; but it's plainhe meant to find out what I wanted, and then, if he couldn't make use ofit himself, sell it me. There are three of us after the same thing now."
Brooke shook his head. "No," he said, drily, "I don't think there are.You and the other man make two, while I scarcely fancy either of youwill get hold of the papers, because I gave them back to Devine, and hehas sent them to Vancouver."
"You had them?" and Saxton gasped.
"I certainly had," said Brooke. "They were put up in a very flimsypacket, which Mrs. Devine handed me. I did not, however, look at one ofthem."
Saxton, who seemed about to sit down, crossed the tent and stared athim.
"Well," he said, "may I be shot if I ever struck another man quite likeyou! What in the name of thunder made you let Devine have them backfor?"
"I really don't think you would appreciate my motives, especially as I'mnot quite sure I understand them myself. Anyway, I did it, and that, ofcourse, implies that there can be no further understanding between youand me. I don't mean to question the morality of what we purposed doing,but, to be quite frank, I've had enough of it."
Saxton, who appeared to restrain himself with an effort, sat down andlighted a cigar.
"No doubt I could worry along 'most as well without you, but there's aquestion to be answered," he said, drily. "Do you mean to give me away?"
"It's not one I appreciate, and it seems to me a trifle unnecessary. Youcan reassure yourself on that point."
Saxton took a drink of whisky. "Well," he said, meditatively, "I guess Ican trust you, and I'm not going to worry about letting you off thedeal. You have too many fancies to be of much use to anybody. There'sjust another thing, and it has to be said. It's business I have on hand,and life's too short for any man to waste time he could pile up dollarsin, trying to get even with a partner who has gone back on him. In fact,I've a kind of liking for you--but you'll
most certainly get hurt if youput yourself in my way. It's a friendly warning."
Brooke laughed. "I will endeavor to keep out of it, so far as I can."
Saxton nodded, and then looked at him reflectively.
"Miss Heathcote's kind of pretty," he said.
"I suggested once already that we should get on better if you left MissHeathcote out."
"You did. Still, when I've anything to say, it is scarcely a hint ofthat kind that's going to stop me. I guess you know she has quite a pileof dollars?"
Brooke's face flushed. "I don't, and it does not concern me in theleast."
"She has, anyway. Devine's wife brought him a pile, and I heard onesister had the same as the other. Now, you ought to feel obliged to me."
Brooke straightened himself a trifle in his chair. "I don't wish to beunpleasant, but you have gone quite as far as is advisable. Can't yousee the thing you are suggesting is quite out of the question?"
Saxton surveyed him critically. "Well," he said, reflectively, "I haveseen better-looking men--quite a few of them, and you're blame hard toget on with, but there are women who don't expect too much."
Brooke's face was growing flushed, but he realized that nothing short ofphysical violence was likely to restrain his visitor, and he laughed.
"You will, of course, believe what pleases you," he said. "Are you goingto stay here to-night?"
"No," said Saxton. "When I'm through with this whisky, I'm going rightback to Tomlinson's ranch. I wouldn't like Devine to run up against me,and he nearly did it on the trail a little while ago."
Brooke looked up sharply. "He recognized you?"
"No," said Saxton, drily. "He didn't. It wouldn't have suited me. When Icome to clinch with Devine, I want to be sure I have the whip-hand ofhim. Still, it wouldn't have been a case of pistols out and gettingbehind a tree. It's quite a long while since I had any, and, though youdon't seem to think so in England, nobody has any use for a circus ofthat kind now. I don't know that the way they had in '49 wasn't betterthan trying to get ahead of the other man quietly."
Brooke made a little gesture of resignation. Saxton, he realized, hadsufficient discretion not to persist in a useless attempt to hold him tohis compact, but he was addicted to moralizing, and Brooke, who lightedanother cigar, listened, as patiently as he could, while he discoursedupon the anxieties of the enterprising business man.
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