Out of the Depths: A Romance of Reclamation

  CHAPTER XXV

  THE DESCENT INTO HELL

  Dangling like a spider on its thread, with a twist of the ropearound one of his legs, Blake had gone down into the ravine, handunder hand, with the agility of a sailor. The tough leather of hischapareras prevented the rope from chafing the leg around which itslipped, and he managed with his free foot to fend himself off fromthe sharp-cornered ledges of the cliff side. In this he was lessconcerned for himself than for his level, which he carried in a sling,high up between his shoulders.

  He was soon safe at the lower end of the rope, on the shelf beside thebundled outfit. He waved his hat to the down-peering watchers, andclimbed a few yards up the ravine, to creep in under an overhangingrock. A few moments later the loosened rope came sliding down thesteep descent, the last length whipping from ledge to ledge with avelocity that made it hiss through the air.

  Blake was not disturbed by this proof of the cumulative speed offalling bodies. He came down and coolly set about his preparations forthe descent of the gorge bottom. He unlashed the bundle and dividedits contents. This done, he took a vertical measurement by going outtowards the canyon along a horizontal shelf on the side wall of thegorge, until he could drop his surveying chain down the sheerprecipice to a shelf almost a hundred feet below him.

  Unaware of Ashton's mistake and furious flight, the engineer wasproceeding with his work in the expectation that he would soon bejoined by his assistant. He was not disappointed. As he returned alongthe shelf, after entering the measurement in his notebook, Ashton camebounding and scrambling down the ravine bottom at reckless speed. Hefetched up on the verge of the break, purple-faced and panting. Hismouth twitched nervously and there was a wild look in his dark eyes.But Blake attributed all to the excitement and exertion of theheadlong rush down the ravine.

  "No need for you to have hurried so, Lafe," he said. "I suppose youhad to go farther around than I thought would be necessary. But I'drather you had kept me waiting an hour than for you to have chancedspraining an ankle."

  "Yes, you need me in your business!" scoffed Ashton.

  "Your employer's business," rejoined the engineer. He straightened upfrom the packs that he was lashing together and gazed gravely at hisscowling assistant. "See here, Mr. Ashton, this is no time for you toraise a row. We shall have quite enough else to think about from nowon, until we are up again out of the canyon."

  "I've enough to think about--and more!" muttered Ashton.

  "Understand? I'm not asking anything of you for myself," said Blake."You are doing this survey for your employer."

  "I'm here because of _her_!" retorted the younger man. "I'm here tomake it certain that no harm is to come to _her_!"

  Blake smiled. "Good for you! I hardly thought you were here for thefun of it. You are going to prove to us that you have the makings.We're both working for her, Lafe. I don't mind telling you now that Iam planning to do something big for her." He looked up the ravinewall, his eyes aglow with tenderness. "Belle! dear little Belle! Tothink that after all these years--"

  "Shut up!" cried Ashton. "Stop that! stop it, and get to work! I knowwhat you're planning to do! Don't talk to me!"

  Blake stared in astonishment. "Didn't think you were so sore over thatold affair. I told you I had nothing to do about your father's--"

  "Don't talk to me! don't talk to me!" frantically cried Ashton. "Youruined me! Now her!"

  "Lord! If you're as sore as all that!" rejoined Blake, his eyeshardening. "Look here, Mr. Ashton, we'll settle this when we get upon top again. Meantime, I shall do my work, and I shall see to it thatyou do yours. Understand?"

  "Get busy, then! I shall do _my_ work!" snarled Ashton.

  Blake pointed to one of the three bundles that he had tied together."There's half the grub, the tripod and the rod. I can manage the rest.I've dropped a measurement to the foot of the first incline."

  He swung one of the other bundles on his back, under the level. Thethird, which was made up of railroad spikes and picket-pins, he sentrolling down the steep slope, tied to one end of the rope. He haddriven a spike into a crevice of the rock. Hooking the other end ofthe rope over its head with an open loop, he grasped the line andstarted to walk down the gorge bottom. As he descended he dragged theloose lengths of rope after him.

  Ashton stood rigid, staring at the spike and loop. If the loop shouldslip or the spike pull out, he need only climb back out of theravine--to her. But Blake's work was not the kind to slip or pull out.The watcher looked at the powerful figure backing rapidly down thatroof-like pitch. One of the toes of the level tripod under the tautloop would easily pry the rope off the spike-head. He turned his packaround to get at the tripod--and paused to look upwards at the threetiny faces peering down over the brink of the cliff.

  He slung the pack over his shoulder and grasped the rope to follow hisleader, who had come to the narrow shelf from which anothermeasurement must be taken. He made the descent no less rapidly andeasily than had the engineer. He was naturally agile, and now he wastoo full of his purpose to have any thought of vertigo. Yet quickly ashe followed, when he reached the shelf he found that Blake had alreadylowered the bundle of spikes over the cliff below and was reenforcingwith a spike a picket-pin that he had driven deep into a crevice.

  "Drop over the chain at that point," curtly ordered the engineer."Think you can climb back up this slope without the rope?"

  "Yes," answered Ashton, still more curtly.

  Blake lifted the line and sent up it a wave that carried to the upperend and flipped the loop from the spike-head. He jerked the freed enddown to him and knotted it securely to the picket-pin, while Ashtonwas making the third vertical measurement. He then lowered everythingexcept the level in loops of the line, and wrapped a strip of canvasaround the line where it bent over the sharp edge of the cliff.

  Ashton laconically reported the measurement. Blake noted it in hisbook, and promptly swung himself out over the edge of the cliff.Again his assistant looked at the fastening of the rope; again helooked upwards at the three tiny down-peering faces; and again hefollowed his leader. The sun was glaring directly down into the gorge.Later they would descend into the shadows where no eye could perceivefrom above the loosening of the rope.

  Blake cut off the line at the foot of the cliff and left it dangling.They would require it for their ascent. Another Titan step took fiftyfeet more of the rope.

  There followed a series of steep pitches, which they descended likethe first, unlooping the rope from spike-head after spike-head. Theonly real difficulty of this part of the descent was the tedious taskof carrying the vertical measurement down the slopes at places whereeven Blake could not find footing to climb out horizontally on eitherwall of the gorge to obtain a clear drop.

  Always, as they descended, the engineer scanned the rocks both aboveand below, calculating where the gorge bottom could be reascendedwithout a line. Whenever he considered the incline too smooth or toosteep for safe footing, he drove in spikes near enough together to besuccessively lassoed from below with a length of line.

  Had not the nature and condition of the rock provided frequent faultsand crevices that permitted the driving of spikes, the descent mustsoon have become impracticable. But the engineer invariably foundsome chink in which to hammer a spike with his powerful blows. As,time after time, he overcame difficulties so great that his companioncould perceive no possible solution, Ashton began to feel himselfstruggling against a feeling of reluctant admiration.

  All his hate could not blind him to the extraordinary mental andphysical efficiency displayed by the engineer. Never once did thesteely muscles permit a slip or false step, never once did the coolbrain miscalculate the next most advantageous movement.

  They were now so deep that Blake had to shout his infrequentdirections, to be heard above the booming reverberations of the canyon.Half way down they came to a forty-foot cliff. Blake made hispreparations, and swung over the edge. Here was an opportunity. Ashtoninstantly bent over the knot of the rope.
r />   Close before his eyes he saw the clearly outlined shadow of his head.He hesitated and straightened on his knees to stare up at the top ofthe gorge. He could no longer discern the three down-peering faces,but he knew that they were still there. And the sunrays still pierceddown to him between the walls of the gorge. The shadows were fartherdown, in the lower depths. He must follow and wait.

  When he slid to the foot of the cliff, Blake silently cut off therope. There was still nearly a hundred and fifty feet left for themto use below. But they went down more than a thousand feet before theyagain had need of it. As Blake had foretold, the lower half of thedescent was far less precipitous than the upper. In places thevertical measurements were carried down by rod readings, the levelbeing set without its tripod on the points of rock where the previousreadings had been taken. At other places Blake marked out horizontalpoints ahead on the gorge wall, and climbed to them with the chain.

  All the time the reverberations of the canyon were becoming louder.Dark shadows began to gather along one wall of the gorge. The sun wasno longer directly in line with the ravine, and they were now far downin the lower depths. Ashton's knees were beginning to tremble withweakness. They had brought no water, for they were descending to theriver. The torment of thirst was added to the torment of his hate. Hebegan to look with fierce eagerness for the opportunity to do hiswork--to accomplish the deed for which he had descended into thisinferno. Then he could go up again, out of the roaring, reverberatinghell about him, away from the burning hell within him.

  The shadows were creeping out at him from the side of the gorge. Thesunshine was going--it was flickering away up the opposite precipices.Now it had gone. All the gorge was somber with shadows. And below werethe blue-black depths of the canyon bottom. Dread crept in upon hissmoldering hate to sweep across its white-hot coals with chill gustsof fear.

  But now they were come to another sheer cliff--the last in thedescent. From its foot the gorge bottom inclined easily down the finalthree hundred feet to its mouth, where the river of the deep roaredpast along the canyon bed, its foam flashing silvery white through thegloom.

  Here at last was the opportunity for which he had waited--here down inthese dark shadows where no eye could see--here where no shriek or crycould pierce up to the outer world of light and sunshine through thewild uproar of the angry waters. He awaited the moment, aflame withpent-up fury, shivering with cold dread.

  Blake dropped his chain from the cliff-edge and took the last verticalmeasurement--fifty-three feet. He smiled. The hardest part of the workwas almost accomplished. He swung over the edge.

  Ashton flung himself on his knees beside the triple knot that held theline fast to its spike. This time he did not hesitate, but began totug at the rope end with fierce eagerness. He loosened one knot. Thenext was harder to unfasten. Blake had tied it with utmost secureness.At last it yielded to the tugging of his gloved fingers. He started toloosen the third knot. Suddenly the taut line slackened. With astifled cry of rage, he paused to peer over the edge. Blake hadslipped down the line so rapidly that he was already at the foot ofthe cliff.

  Reaching back, Ashton jerked the rope from the spike-head, to cast itdown on the engineer. A glimpse of the flashing water in the canyonbottom gave momentary check to his vengeful impulse. If only he had adrink of that cool water! He was parched; his lips were cracking; inhis mouth was the taste of dust. Must he stay up here on the dry rockwhile Blake went on down beside the foaming river to drink his fill?

  As he paused, a doubt clutched his heart in an icy grip. All theway down that devil's stairway he had been witness to Blake'sextraordinary resourcefulness and tremendous strength. What if heshould find a way to clamber up the precipices? He had loweredeverything before descending. There was nothing to fling down uponhim--no loose rock or stone to topple over and crush him.

  Chilled by that doubt, Ashton hesitated, his hands alternatelytightening and relaxing their grip on the rope. What if the man shouldcontrive to escape? There seemed no bounds to his ingenuity.... No, hemust be followed on down into the canyon and destroyed, else he wouldescape--he would come up out of this inferno, like the demon he was,and destroy _her_. He must be followed!... And the water--the cool,refreshing water!

  His thirst now seized upon Ashton with terrible intensity. Rage, noless than the laborious exertion of the descent, had dried up his bodywith its feverish fire. Almost maddened with the torment of hiscraving, he looped the rope on the spike-head with reckless haste andslid down over the edge of the cliff.

  As the line tautened with his weight it gave several inches, but hewas too nearly frantic to heed. He slipped down it so swiftly that thestrands burned his hands through the tough palms of his gloves. In afew moments his feet were on a level with Blake's head. He clutchedthe rope tighter to check his fall. An instant later he droppedheavily on the rock shelf at the cliff foot, and the rope cameswishing down after him.

  "God!" shouted Blake. Involuntarily he flung back his head and staredup the great gorge to the faraway heights where were waiting his wifeand child.

  But Ashton neither paused nor looked upward. Rebounding from his fall,he rushed down the slope to the river, with a gasping cry--"Water!water!"

  For a time the engineer stood as if stunned, his big fists clenched,his broad chest heaving laboriously. Yet he was far too well seasonedin desperate adventure to give way to despair. Soon he rallied. Helowered his gaze from the heights to examine the cliff and theadjoining walls of the gorge. All were alike sheer and unscalable. Thelines about his big mouth hardened with grim determination. He pickedup the rope and began winding it about his mid-body above thelow-buckled cartridge belt.

  He arranged the coils with such care that he did not notice thecondition of the end of the line until he had drawn in over eightyfeet. Then at last he saw. Though he had not forgotten to wrap theline with canvas where it passed over the cliff edge, he had thoughtthe strands must have been frayed through on a sharp corner of rock.Instead, he found himself staring at the clean-cut string-wrapped ropeend that he had knotted to the spike.

  For several moments he stood looking at it, his forehead creased inthought. What had become of the knot?... He could think of only onesolution to the puzzle. He turned and gazed down through the gloom atthe dim figure crouched beside the edge of the swirling water.

  "Locoed," he said pityingly--"Locoed.... Poor devil!"