CHAPTER XVII
A SHOT IN THE DUSK
They returned to their grazing ponies, and at once started the descentof the mountain, after crossing the ravine where they had seen thewolf. Blake chose a route that brought them down into the valley abovethe waterhole shortly before five o'clock. They cantered the remainingdistance along the wide, gravelly wash of the creek bed to the dike.
Looking down from the dike, they saw that Knowles and Gowan had comeup the creek and were waiting for them in company with the ladies.Ashton set spurs to his horse and dashed across above the pool, todescend the slope to the party. Blake descended on the other side, towater his horse and slake his own thirst.
To Ashton's chagrin, Isobel joined Genevieve in hastening to meet theengineer. He rode down beside the two men and jumped off to follow theladies. But Gowan sprang before him.
"Hold on," he said. "Mr. Knowles wants your report."
"If you'll oblige us, Lafe," added the cowman. "I'm pretty much workedup."
"You have cause to be!" replied Ashton. "He says the only questionleft is whether the water in the canyon is not at too low a level. Wemeasured across from the creek gulch to the canyon. A tunnel ispracticable, he says."
"Through all that mountain?" scoffed Gowan. "It's solid rock, cleanthrough. It would take him a hundred years to burrow a hole likethat."
"You know nothing of engineering and its tools. We now have electricdrills that will eat into granite like cheese," condescendinglyexplained Ashton.
"Think I don't know that? But just you try to figure out how he'sgoing to get his electricity for his drills," retorted Gowan.
Without stopping for his disconcerted rival to reply, he turned hisback on him and started towards Isobel. The girl was running up fromthe pool, her face almost pitiful with disappointment.
"Oh, Daddy!" she called, "Mr. Blake says that if the water in thecanyon--"
"Needn't tell me, honey. I know already," broke in her father,hastening to meet her.
She flung her arms about his neck, and sobbed brokenly: "I'm--I'm sosorry for you, D-Daddy!"
"There, there now!" he soothed, awkwardly patting her back. "'Tisn'tlike you to cry before you're hurt."
"No, no--you! not me. It doesn't matter about me!"
"Doesn't it, though! But I'm not hurt either, as yet. It's a long waysfrom being a sure thing."
"All the way down to the bottom of Deep Canyon!" put in Ashton.
"And then some!" added Gowan. "I've hit on another 'if,' MissChuckie."
"You have? Oh, Kid, tell us!"
"It's this: How's he going to get electricity to dig his tunnel?"
Blake was coming up from the pool, with his baby in one arm and hiswife clinging fondly to the other. He met the coldly exultant glanceof Gowan, and smiled.
"The only question regarding the power is one of cost, Mr. Gowan," hesaid. "There is no coal near enough to be hauled. But gasolene is notbulky. If there was water power to generate electricity, a tunnelcould be bored at half the cost I have figured. The point is thatthere is no water power available, nor will there be until the tunnelis finished."
"What! You talk about finishing the tunnel? Didn't you say it is stilluncertain about the water?" demanded Knowles.
"I was merely explaining to Mr. Gowan," replied Blake. "The questionhe raised is one of the factors in our problem as to whether anirrigation project is practicable. We now know that we have the landfor it, the tunnel site, the reservoir site--" he pointed to thevalley above the dike--"and I have figured that the cost ofconstruction would not be excessive. All that remains is to determineif we have the water. I have already explained that this will requirea descent into the canyon."
"You say that that will decide it, one way or the other?" queriedKnowles, his forehead creased with deep lines of foreboding.
"Yes," replied Blake. "I regret that you feel as you do about it.Consider what it would mean to hundreds, yes, thousands of people, ifthis mesa were watered. I assure you that you, too, would benefit bythe project."
"I don't care for any such benefit, Mr. Blake. I've been a cowman fortwenty-five years. I want to keep my range until the time comes for meto take the long trail."
"It would be hard to change," agreed the engineer. "However, the pointnow is to find what Deep Canyon has to tell us."
"You still think you can go down it?"
"Yes, if I have ropes, a two-pound hammer, and some iron pins;railroad spikes and picket-pins would do."
"Going to rope the rocks and pull them up for steps?" asked Gowan.
"I shall need two or three hundred feet of half-inch manila," saidBlake, ignoring the sarcasm.
"They may have it at Stockchute," said Knowles. "Kid, you can driveover with the wagon and fetch Mr. Blake all the rope and other thingshe wants. I can't stand this waiting much longer."
"There will be no time lost," said Blake. "It will take Ashton and meall of tomorrow to carry a line of levels up the mountain."
"Why need you do that, Tom?" asked his wife.
"Yes, why, if all that's left is to go down into the canyon?" addedIsobel, dabbing the tears from her wet eyes.
Ashton thrust in an answer before Blake could speak. "We must see howhigh the upper mesa is above this one, Miss Chuckie, and then comparethe difference of altitude with the depth of the canyon, to see whetherits bottom is above or below the bottom of the gulch."
"Oh--measure up and then down, to see which way is longest," saidGenevieve.
"Sorry, ma'am," broke in Knowles. "We'll have to be starting now toget home by dark. If you think you can trust me with that young man,I'd like the honor of packing him all the way in. I've toted calvesfor miles, so I guess I can hold onto a baby if I use both hands."
"You shall have him!" replied Genevieve, smiling like a daughter asshe met the look in his grave eyes. "Tom, give Thomas to Mr.Knowles--when he is safe in the saddle."
Even Gowan cracked a smile at this cautious qualification. He hastenedto bring Isobel's horse and hold him for her--which gave Ashton theopportunity to help her mount. Both services were needless, but sherewarded each eager servitor with a dimpled smile. When Blake handedthe baby up to Knowles, his wife, untroubled by mock modesty, gave hima loving kiss. He lifted her bodily into the saddle, and she rode offwith her three companions.
Isobel, however, wheeled within the first few yards, and came back fora parting word: "You can expect us quite early tomorrow. We willovertake you on your way up the mountain. I wish Genevieve to see thecanyon. Good night--Pleasant dreams!"
She had addressed Ashton, but her last smile was for Blake, and it wasundisguisedly affectionate. As she loped away after the others, Ashtonfrowned, and, picking up his rifle, started off up the valley. Blakewas staring after the girl with a wondering look. He turned to cast aquizzical glance at the back of the resentful lover.
When the latter had disappeared around the hill, the engineer took thefrying pan and walked up into the creek bed above the dike. Aftergoing some distance over the gravel bars, he came to a place wherethe swirl of the last freshet had gouged a hole almost to bedrock.Scooping a panful of sand and gravel from the bottom of the hole, hewent back and squatted down beside the pool within easy reach of thewater.
He picked the larger pebbles from the pan, added water, and began toswirl the contents around with a circular motion. Each turn flirtedsome of the sand and water over the pan's beveled edge. Every littlewhile he renewed the water. At last the pan's contents were reduced toa half dozen, irregular, dirty, little lumps and a handful of "blacksand" in which gleamed numbers of yellow particles.
Blake put the nuggets into his pocket and threw the rest out into thepool. He returned to the tent and sat down to re-check his level-bookand his calculations on the approximate cost of the tunnel. Sundownfound him still figuring; but when twilight faded into dusk, he putaway his fieldbook and started a fire for supper.
He was in the act of setting on a pan of bacon when, without theslightest warning, a bull
et cut the knot of the loose neckerchiefunder his downbent chin. In the same instant that he heard the ping ofthe shot he pitched sideways and flattened himself on the ground withthe chuck-box between him and the fire. A roll and a quick crawl tookhim into the underbrush beyond the circle of firelight. No secondbullet followed him in his amazingly swift movements. He laymotionless, listening intently, but no sound broke the stillness ofthe evening except the distant wail of a coyote and the hoot of anowl.
Half an hour passed, and still the engineer waited. The dusk deepenedinto darkness. At last a heavy footfall sounded up on the dike. Blakerose, and slipping silently to the tent, groped about until he found aheavy iron picket-pin.
Someone came down the slope and kicked his way petulantly through thebushes to the dying fire. He threw on an armful of brush. The light ofthe up-blazing flame showed Ashton standing beside the chuck-box,rifle in hand. But he dropped the weapon to pick up the overturnedfrying pan, which lay at his feet.
"Hello, Blake!" he sang out irritably. "I supposed you'd have supperwaiting. Haven't turned in this early, have you?"
"No," replied Blake, and he came forward, carelessly swinging thepicket-pin. "Thought I saw a coyote sneaking about, and tried to trickhim into coming close enough for me to nail him with this pin."
"With that!" scoffed Ashton. "But it would do as well as my rifle. Itook a shot at a wolf, and then the mechanism jammed. I can't get itto work."
"You fired a shot?" asked Blake.
"Yes. Was it too far off for you to hear? I circled all around thesehills."
"No, I heard it," replied Blake, looking close into the other's sullenface. "You may not have been as far away as you thought."
"I was far enough," grumbled Ashton. "I've walked till I'm hungry as ashark."
"Do you realize that you want to be careful how you shoot with thesehigh-power rifles?" asked Blake. "They carry a mile or more."
"I've carried mine more than that, and _it_ won't carry an inch,"complained Ashton. "Wish you would see if you can fix it, while I geton some bacon."
Blake took his scrutinizing gaze from his companion's face, and pickedup the rifle. Ashton showed plainly that he was tired and hungry andvery irritable, but there was no trace of guilt in his look or manner.While he hurriedly prepared supper, Blake took apart the mechanism ofthe rifle. He discovered the trouble at once.
"This is easy," he said. "Nothing broken--just a screw loose. Have youbeen monkeying with the parts, to see how they work?"
"No; I don't care a hang how they work. What gets me is that theydidn't work!"
"Queer, then, how this screw got loose," said Blake as he tightened itwith the blade of his pocket knife. "It sets tight enough. Of courseit might have come from the factory a bit loose, and jarred out withthe firing; but neither seems probable."
"Is it all right now?" queried Ashton.
"Yes.--Seems to me someone _must_ have loosened this screw."
"What's the difference how it happened, if it will not happen again?"irritably replied Ashton. "Guess this bacon is fried enough. Let'seat."
Blake recoupled the rifle, emptied the magazine, tested the mechanism,refilled the magazine, and joined his ravenous companion in hisill-cooked meal.
Immediately after eating, Ashton flung himself down in the tent. A fewminutes later Blake crept in beside him and struck a match. The youngman had already fallen into the deep slumber of utter physical andmental relaxation. Blake went outside and listened to the wailing ofthe coyotes. Difficult as it was to determine the direction of theirmournful cries, he at last satisfied himself that they were circlingentirely around the camp.
A watchdog could not have indicated with greater certainty that therewas no other wild beast or any human being lurking near the waterhole.Blake crept back into the tent and was soon fast asleep beside hiscompanion.