скачать книгу бесплатно
Jimmy wondered whether she knew he had wanted to study her, but thought she did not. Anyhow, he was satisfied she, so to speak, had not posed for him.
"Not at all," he said. "I saw you knew your job, and I reflected that the ox did not know me. But shall I hold him until you catch the other?"
"Buck will follow his mate," Margaret replied, and when they started a cow-bell clashed and Buck stole out of the shade.
Jimmy thought stole the proper word. He had expected to hear branches crack and underbrush rustle, but the powerful oxen moved almost silently through the wood.
"Now I see why you give them bells," he remarked. "But doesn't the jangling bother the animals?"
"They like the bells. At night I think they toss their heads to hear the chime. Then they know the bells are useful. Sometimes when all is quiet the cattle scatter, but when the timber wolves are about or a cinnamon bear comes down the rocks the herd rolls up. Bush cattle are clever. Now Bright feels the rope, he's resigned to go to work."
"You know the woods. Have you always lived at a ranch?"
"For a time I was at Toronto," Margaret replied. "When I was needed at Kelshope, I came back."
Jimmy felt she baffled him. Margaret had not stated her occupation at Toronto, but he had remarked that her English was better than the English one used at the cotton mills. After all, he was not entitled to satisfy his curiosity.
"One can understand Mr. Jardine's needing you," he said. "I expect a bush rancher is forced to hustle."
"A bush rancher must hustle all the time," Margaret agreed. "Still, work one likes goes easily. Have you tried?"
"I have tried work I did not like and admit I've had enough," Jimmy said, and laughed. "When I started for Canada, my notion was I'd be content to play about."
Margaret nodded. "We know your sort. You are not, like our tourists, merchants and manufacturers. You have no use for business. All you think about is sport, and your sport's extravagant. You stop at our big hotels, and when you go off to hunt and fish you hire a gang of packers to carry your camp truck."
"I doubt if I really am that sort," Jimmy rejoined. "After all, my people are pretty keen business men, and I begin to see that to cultivate the habits of the other lot is harder than I thought. In fact, I rather think I'd like to own a ranch."
"For a game?" said Margaret and laughed, a frank laugh. "You must cut it out, Mr. Leyland. One can't play at ranching, and you don't know all the bushman is up against."
"It's possible," Jimmy admitted. "Well, I expect I am a loafer, but I did not altogether joke about the ranch. The strange thing is, after a time loafing gets monotonous."
Margaret stopped him. "I must get busy and you ought not to walk about. Sit down in the shade and I'll give you the Colonist."
Jimmy sat down, but declared he did not want the newspaper. He thought he would study ranching, particularly Margaret's part of the job. She put a heavy wooden yoke on the oxen's necks, fastened a rope to the hook, and drove the animals to a belt of burned slashing where big charred logs lay about. Jardine hitched the rope to a log and the team hauled it slowly to a pile. Jimmy wondered how two people would get the heavy trunk on top, but when Margaret led the oxen round the pile and urged them ahead, the log went up in a loop of the rope. For all that, Jardine was forced to use a handspike and Jimmy saw that to build a log-pile demanded strength and skill.
Resting in the shade, he felt the picture's quiet charm. The oxen's movements were slow and rhythmical; Jardine's muscular figure, bent, got tense, and relaxed; the girl, finely posed, guided the plodding animals. Behind were stiff, dark branches and rows of straight red trunks. A woodpecker tapped a hollow tree, and in the distance cow-bells chimed. The dominant note was effort, but the effort was smooth and measured. One felt that all went as it ought to go, and Jimmy thought about the big shining flywheel that spun with a steady throb at the Leyland cotton mill. Then his head began to nod and his eyes shut, and when he looked up Margaret called him to dinner.
After dinner Jardine got out his Clover-leaf wagon and drove Jimmy to the hotel. When they arrived Jimmy took him to his room on the first floor, and meeting Stannard on the stairs, was rather moved to note his relief. Stannard declared that he and some others had searched the woods since daybreak and were about to start for the ranch. By and by Deering joined them and made an iced drink. Jardine, with tranquil enjoyment, drained his long glass, and lighting a cigar, began to talk about hunting in the bush. His clothes were old and his hat was battered, but his calm was marked and Jimmy thought he studied the others with quiet curiosity. After a time they went off, and Jardine gave Jimmy a thoughtful smile.
"Your friends are polite and Mr. Deering can mix a drink better than a bar-keep."
"Is that all?" Jimmy inquired.
Jardine's eyes twinkled. "Weel, if I was wanting somebody to see me out, maybe I'd trust the big fellow."
Jimmy thought his remark strange. Stannard was a cultivated gentleman and Deering was frankly a gambler. Yet Jimmy had grounds to imagine the old rancher was not a fool. He was puzzled and rather annoyed, but Jardine said he must not stay and Jimmy let him go.
V
JIMMY HOLDS FAST
The sun had sunk behind the range, and the sky was green. In places the high white peaks were touched by fading pink; the snow that rolled down to the timber-line was blue. Mist floated about the pines by the river, but did not reach the hotel terrace, and the evening was warm. Looking down at the dark valley, one got a sense of space and height.
At the end of the terrace, a small table carried a coffee service, and Laura occupied a basket chair. She smoked a cigarette and her look was thoughtful. Jimmy, sitting opposite, liked her fashionable dinner dress. He had met Laura in Switzerland, but he felt as if he had not known her until she went with Stannard to the Canadian hotel. In fact, he imagined she had very recently begun to allow him to know her. Stannard had gone off a few minutes since, and Deering was playing pool with a young American.
"Since you came back from the ranch I've thought you preoccupied," Laura remarked.
"I expect you thought me dull," said Jimmy with an apologetic smile. "Well, for some days I've been pondering things, and I'm not much used to the exercise. In a way, you're accountable. You inquired not long since if I knew where I went?"
"Then you got some illumination at the ranch?"
"You're keen. I got disturbed."
"Does to stop at a ranch disturb one?" Laura asked in a careless voice.
"I expect it depends on your temperament," Jimmy replied and knitted his brows. "Kelshope is a model ranch; you feel all goes as it ought to go. When you leave things alone, they don't go like that. At Jardine's you get a sense of plan and effort. The old fellow and his daughter are keenly occupied, and their occupation, so to speak, is fruitful. The trouble is, mine is not."
Laura saw that when he, some time since, apologized for his loafing, her remarks had carried weight. Jimmy had begun to ponder where he went, and she wondered whether he would see he ought to return to the cotton mill. Still she did not mean to talk about this.
"You stopped Miss Jardine's horse?" she said.
"I did not stop the horse. I tried, but that's another thing. If I had not meddled, I expect Miss Jardine would have conquered the nervous brute and I would not have got a nasty kick."
"Oh, well," said Laura. "Sometimes to meddle is rash, but your object was good."
Then Stannard came to the veranda steps and looked about the terrace.
"Hello, Jimmy! Deering has beaten Frank and we must arrange about our excursion to-morrow."
Jimmy frowned and hesitated. When he had talked to Laura before, Stannard had called him away, but he thought she did not mean him to stay and he went off. When he had gone Laura mused.
She knew Stannard was jealous for her. He did not allow her to join him when his young friends were about, and she did not want to do so. For the most part she lived with her mother's relations, who did not approve of Stannard and were not satisfied about her going to Canada.
To some extent Laura imagined their doubts were justified. She knew Stannard had squandered much of her mother's fortune, and now that her trustees guarded the small sum she had inherited, he was poor. Yet he belonged to good clubs and went to race meeting and shooting parties. It looked as if sport and gambling paid, and Laura saw what this implied. Yet her father was kind and when she was with him he indulged her.
She had remarked his calling Jimmy away. As a rule, his touch was very light, and she wondered whether he had meant to incite the young fellow by a hint of disapproval; but perhaps it was not his object and she speculated about Jimmy. He was now not the raw lad she had known in Switzerland, although he was losing something that at the beginning had attracted her. She thought he ought not to stay with Stannard and particularly with Deering, and she had tried to indicate the proper line for him to take. Well, suppose he resolved to go back to Lancashire? Laura knew her charm and imagined, if she were willing, she might go with Jimmy. Although he could not yet use his fortune, he was rich, and after a time would control the famous manufacturing house. Besides, he was marked by some qualities she liked. Laura got up with an impatient shrug, and blushed. She would not think about it yet. She was poor, but she was not an adventuress.
In the morning, Stannard, Deering and Jimmy started for the rocks. Their object was to follow the range and look for a line to the top of a peak they meant to climb another day. They lunched on the mountain, and in the afternoon stopped at the side of a gully that ran down to the glacier. The back of the gully was smooth, and the pitch was steep, but hardly steep enough to bother an athletic man. In places, banks of small gravel rested, although it looked as if a disturbing foot would send down the stones.
Some distance above the spot, the top of another pitch cut a background of broken rocks, streaked by veins of snow. The sun was on the rocks and some shone like polished steel, but the gully was in shadow and Jimmy had felt the gloom daunting. Deering pulled out his cigar-case. His face was red, his shirt was open and his sunburned neck was like a bull's.
"My load's two hundred pounds, and we have shoved along pretty fast since lunch," he said. "Anyhow, I'm going to stop and take a smoke."
"To lean against a slippery rock won't rest you much," Stannard remarked. "We'll get on to the shelf at the top of the slab."
"Then, somebody's got to boost me up," Deering declared, and when Stannard went to help, put his boot on the other's head and crushed his soft hat down to his ears.
Next moment he was on the shelf and shouted with laughter. Sometimes Deering's humor was boyishly rude, but his friends were not cheated, and Jimmy thought the big man keen and resolute. Stannard went up lightly, as if it did not bother him. He was cool and, by contrast with Deering, looked fastidiously refined. Jimmy imagined he had an object for leaving the gully. Stannard knew the mountains; in fact, he knew all a sporting gentleman ought to know and Jimmy was satisfied with his guide.
"Since you reckon we ought to get from under, why'd you fix on this line down?" Deering inquired.
"The line's good, but we were longer than I thought, and the sun has been for some time on the snow."
"Sure," said Deering. "The blamed trough looks like a rubbish shoot."
Jimmy had trusted Stannard's judgment, but now he saw a light; for one thing, the back of the gully was smooth. The mountain fronted rather north of west, and so long as the frost at the summit held, the party did not run much risk, but when the thaw began snow and broken rocks might roll down. When Deering had nearly smoked his cigar he looked up.
"Something's coming!"
Jimmy heard a rumble and a crash. A big stone leaped down the gully, struck a rock and vanished. A bank of gravel began to slip away, and then a gray and white mass swept across the top of the pitch. Snow and stones poured down tumultuously, and when the avalanche was gone confused echoes rolled about the rocks.
"That fixes it," said Deering. "I'm going the other way. Had we shoved along a little faster, we might have made it, but I was soft, and couldn't hit up the pace." He laughed his boisterous laugh and resumed: "The trouble is, I played cards with Jimmy when I ought to have gone to bed. Well, since we didn't bring a rope, what are you going to do about it?"
"If we can reach the top, I think we can get down along the edge," Stannard replied.
After something of a struggle, they got up, and for a time to follow the top of the gully was not hard. Then they stopped on an awkward pitch where a big bulging stone, jambed in a crack, cut their view.
"I'll try the stone, but perhaps you had better traverse out across the face and look for another line," Deering said to Stannard.
Jimmy went with Deering, and when they reached the stone saw a broken shelf three or four yards below. On one side, the rocks dropped straight to the gully; in front, the slope beyond the shelf was steep. For a few moments Deering studied the ground.
"A rope would be useful, but if we can reach the shelf, we ought to get down," he said. "I'll try to make it. Lie across the stone and give me your hands."
Jimmy nodded. At an awkward spot the second man helps the leader, who afterwards steadies him. The rock was rough and a small knob and the deep crack promised some support. Still, caution was indicated, because the shelf, on which one must drop, was inclined and narrow. Jimmy lay across the stone and Deering, slipping over the edge, seized his hands. He was a big fellow and Jimmy thought the stone moved, but he heard Deering's boots scrape the rock and the strain on his arms was less.
Then he heard another noise, and snow and rocks and a broken pine rolled down the gully. The avalanche vanished, the uproar sank, and Deering gasped, "Hold fast!"
The load on Jimmy's arms got insupportable. He imagined the noise had startled Deering and his foot had slipped from the knob. It looked as if he must hold the fellow until he found the crack. Jimmy meant to try, although the stone rocked, and he knew he could not long bear the horrible strain. If Deering fell, he would not stop at the shelf; he might not stop for three or four hundred feet. Jimmy set his mouth and tried to brace his knees against the rock. The stone was moving, and if it moved much, Deering would pull him over. Yet in a moment or two Deering might get his boot in the crack, and to let him fall was unthinkable.
Jimmy held on until Deering shouted and let go. He had obviously found some support, and Jimmy tried to get back, but could not. His chest was across the edge, and the stone rocked. He was slipping off, and saw, half-consciously, that since he must fall, he must not fall down the rock front. Pushing himself from the edge, he plunged into the gully, struck the rock some way down, and knew no more. Deering, on the shelf, saw him reach the bottom, roll for a distance and stop. He lay face downwards, with his arms spread out.
A few moments afterwards Stannard reached the spot and looked down. Deering's big chest heaved, his mouth was slack, and his face was white. When he indicated Jimmy his hand shook.
"I pulled him over," he said in a hoarse voice.
Stannard gave him a keen, rather scornful glance. "Traverse across the front for about twenty yards and you'll see a good line down. When you get down, start for the hotel and bring the two guides, our rope, a blanket and two poles. Send somebody to telegraph for a doctor."
"Not at all! I'm going to Jimmy. I pulled the kid over."
Stannard frowned. "You are going to the hotel. For one thing, I doubt if you could reach Jimmy; you're badly jarred and your nerve's gone. Then, unless you get help, we can't carry Jimmy out."
"You mustn't leave him in the gully," Deering rejoined. "Suppose a fresh lot of stones comes along?"
"Go for help," said Stannard, pulling out his watch. "Come back up the gully. If you have a flask, give it to me. I'm going down."
"But if there's another snow-slide, you and Jimmy will get smashed. Besides, the job is mine."
"The snow and stones come down the middle and they'll stop by and by. Don't talk. Start!"
Deering hesitated. He was big and muscular, but he admitted that on the rocks Stannard was the better man. Moreover, to know he was accountable for Jimmy's plunge had shaken him, and he saw Stannard was very cool.
"Take the flask," he said and went off at a reckless speed.
VI
DEERING OWNS A DEBT
Jimmy saw a pale star, and veins of snow streaking high shadowy rocks. He thought when he looked up not long before, the sun was on the mountain, but perhaps it was not. His brain was dull and he was numbed by cold. He shivered and shut his eyes, but after a few minutes he smelt cigar-smoke and looked about again. Although it was getting dark, he saw somebody sitting in the gloom at the bottom of the rocks.
"Where's Deering?" he asked. "Did I let him go?"
"You did not. Take a drink," the other replied and pushed a flask into Jimmy's hand.
Jimmy drank, gasped, and tried to get up, but found he could not move.
"Where is Deering?" he insisted.
"I expect he's crossing the glacier with the guides from the hotel," said the man, who took the flask from him, and Jimmy knew Stannard's voice.
"Then where am I?"
"You are in the gully. You held on to Deering until he got support for his foot. Then you slipped off the big stone. Something like that, anyhow. Do you feel pain at any particular spot?"
"I don't know if one spot hurts worse than another. All hurt; I doubt if I can get up."
"You mustn't try," said Stannard firmly. "When Deering arrives we'll help you up."
Jimmy pondered. Since the evening was very cold, he thought it strange Stannard had pulled off his coat. Then he saw somebody had put over him a coat that was not his.
"Why have you given me your clothes?" he asked.
"For one thing, I didn't fall about forty feet."
"If I had fallen forty feet, I'd have got smashed. It's obvious!"
"Perhaps you hit the side of the gully and rolled down, but it's not important. When one gets a jolt like yours the shock's as bad as the local injury. Are you cold?"
"I'm horribly cold, but although I heard stones not long since I don't think I got hit."
"The stones run down the middle and I pulled you against the rock."
"You're a good sort," Jimmy remarked. "Deering's a good sort. To know he's not hurt is some relief."
Stannard said nothing and Jimmy asked for a cigarette. Stannard gave him a cigarette and a light, but after a few moments he let it drop.
"The tobacco's not good," he said, dully, and began to muse.
He was strangely slack and his body was numb. Perhaps to feel no local pain was ominous; he knew a man who fell on the rocks and had not afterwards used his legs. To be wheeled about for all one's life was horrible. When a doctor arrived he would know his luck, and in the meantime he dared not dwell on things like that. He studied the rocks. Stannard had obviously come down by the slanting crack; Jimmy thought he himself could not have done so. Then Stannard, risking his getting hit by rebounding stones, had remained with him for some hours. When Jimmy helped Deering the sun shone, and now the stars were out. The gully was high on the mountain and after the sun went the cold was keen, but Stannard had given him his coat. Stannard was like that.
