CHAPTER IX.
A CLIMB FOR LIFE.
Jack strolled along at the foot of the cliffs, anxiously scanningevery inch of them in the hope of spying some place that afforded anopportunity to climb upward. The cliffs varied in height from twohundred to three, and even four hundred feet. Great beetling crags ofgray stone, too steep to afford roothold to more than a few scantyshrubs, filled him with oppression and gloom.
The boy felt this disheartening influence as he made his way along theedges of the valley. From time to time he sighted game—deer, rabbitsand a good many quail; but as he had not brought their solitary firearmalong he did not pay much attention to the animals.
At last he halted at the foot of a cliff that was less precipitousthan the others. It had, in fact, a slight slope to it, and was moreclosely grown with bushes and small trees which might be grasped by anyone attempting to climb it.
Jack had his knife with him, a heavy–bladed, business–like bit ofcutlery of finely tempered steel, but strong and thick withal. He drewit out, opened the blade and began hacking at the cliff’s face. It wasof a soft sort of stone, and he could easily cut depressions in it.
“Good,” murmured the boy, “I actually believe that I may be able toscale this cliff, although it may take a long time.”
He gauged its height carefully and estimated that from the floor of thevalley to the summit of the precipice it must be fully three hundredfeet.
“If the situation was not so desperate I would never dream ofattempting to climb that awful height,” mused the boy, “but necessityoften drives where courage would falter.”
So thinking, he cast off his coat, laid it on the ground and his hatbeside it. Then he clambered over the pile of stones that lay at thefoot of the cliff and began his climb. For the first forty feet or sohis task was not so difficult. But it was hot, and the perspirationbegan to run off the laboring lad in streams.
He paused to rest. Jack was now, as has been said, about two score feetfrom the floor of the valley. Up to this point the cliff had slopedat quite an angle; but now it reared itself upward in a seeminglyimpassable escarpment, like the wall of a giant’s castle.
“Now for the real tug–of–war,” thought Jack, when he had rested.
Tightening his belt, he braced himself for what he knew would be adesperately dangerous climb. First he dug out holes to fit his handsand then began working his way up. From time to time he was able tograsp bushes and stunted trees, and these helped him greatly in histask. When he reached even the narrowest ledge he laid down to rest,extending himself at full length and panting like a spent hound.
Owing to the soft nature of the rock, however, he progressed ratherbetter than he had anticipated. But it was slow work. From time to timethe face of the cliff was so precipitous that he was compelled to makea detour to find an easier place to cut his steps.
Once he looked down; but he did not repeat the experiment. The sightof the dizzy height, to which he clung like some crawling insect,almost unnerved him. For several minutes, with a palpitating heart anda sickened feeling at the pit of his stomach, he hugged the rock, notdaring to look either up or down.
But at last his courage came back and he began his painful progressupward once more. Foot by foot he climbed, and at last, when restingon a ledge, he dared to look about him to see what progress he hadmade. To his delight he saw that he had come more than halfway up theprecipice, although above him its rugged face still towered frowninglyas if daring him to surmount it.
THE SIGHT OF THE DIZZY HEIGHT ALMOST UNNERVED HIM.]
“Well, I would never have believed that I could have climbed to such aheight with so little inconvenience,” mused the boy. “Of course, theclimb is a good deal rougher than it looks from below; but still it’san experience I wouldn’t go through again for hundreds of dollars.”
Having rested on the ledge and munched some deer meat and acornflap–jack which he had brought with him, Jack recommenced his climb. Itspoke marvels for his cool head, great strength and wonderful endurancethat the boy had progressed as far as he had. Few but an American youthof the most steel–like fiber and sterling grit would have dared toundertake such a task. And yet, before Jack there still lay the hardestpart of his endeavor.
So steep was the cliff face now that the lad did not dare to pause inhis climb. He steadily progressed although his hands were cut andbleeding by this time, and his feet ached as cruelly as did otherparts of his anatomy. But just when it seemed to the lad that his bodycould not stand another fraction of an ounce of strain, he happenedon a place where a watercourse from above had cut a sort of shallowcleft in the precipice. In this grew shrubs and several trees, and Jackstruggled to gain this oasis in the dangerous desert of his climb forlife.
Gaining it, he flung himself at full length on a bed of sweet smellingyellow flowers under the shade of a broad–leaved bay tree. In thestillness of that lonely and awful height, halfway between earth andsky, his breathing sounded as loud as the exhaust of a steam engine.But by–and–by he recovered his breath, and began to wish with all hissoul for some water.
That fearful climb had racked both nerve and muscle; but even morethan his fatigue did Jack feel the cruel pangs of a burning thirst.Some grass grew in that lonely little grove on the cliff face, andhe chewed some of this for the sake of the moisture that exuded fromit. But this was far from satisfying. In fact, it only aggravated histhirst by mocking it.
He rose on one elbow and looked about him. At a short distance up thesteep, dry watercourse he saw a patch of vivid green. To his mind thatcould betoken nothing but the presence of water near the surface. Atany rate he felt that it was worth investigating.
Reaching the patch of verdure, the boy fell on his hands and knees,and with a sharp–edged stone began scraping away at the ground. To hisunspeakable delight he had not dug down more than a few inches beforethe ground began to grow moist.
Greatly encouraged, he dug away with his improvised tool withrenewed vigor. He excavated quite a hole, and then lay down in theshade waiting for it to fill up. Before long a few inches of warm,muddy–colored liquid could be discerned at the bottom of the hole. Itdid not look inviting, this coffee–colored, tepid mixture, but Jack wasnot in the mood to be fastidious.
Casting himself down on his stomach, he plunged his face into thewater, sucking it greedily in. Then he bathed his hands and face.He was still engaged in this last occupation when his attention wasdistracted by a low growl from below him.
The boy looked up quickly, and then almost toppled over backward withastonishment.
Facing him, and lashing its stubby tail angrily, was a large bob–cat.The creature had its wicked–looking teeth bared, and the boy could seeits sharp claws. How it came to be in that place he could not imagine.But its emaciated condition seemed to indicate that it must have insome way fallen from the cliff above.
Evidently it was half mad from deprivation of food and water, for underordinary conditions a bob–cat—although a really dangerous foe ifcornered—will not attack a human being without provocation.
The wild beast’s object was, evidently, to get at the water hole whichJack had so painstakingly scooped out. The boy would have been willingenough to allow it to accomplish its purpose. But evidently the halffamished creature regarded him as an enemy to be dispatched before itproceeded to slake its thirst.
It crouched down till its fawn–colored belly touched the ground andthen, uttering a snarling sort of cry, it launched its body through theair at the boy.
So strong was its leap that tempered steel springs could nothave hurled its body forward with more velocity. Jack uttered aninvoluntary cry of alarm. Above him was the steep cliff, while to moveeven a short distance in either direction from the dry watercoursewould mean a death plunge to the valley below.