CHAPTER VII
LISTER'S DISSATISFACTION
Soon after his return from Winnipeg, Lister stood one evening by alength of track planned to cut out an awkward curve. The new line raninto a muskeg that sucked down brush and logs and the loads of numerousgravel trains. Angry foremen declared one could not fill up the bog, andLister knew the heads of the construction office grumbled about thedelay. He was tired, for he had been strenuously occupied since morning,but could not persuade himself that the work had made much progress.
Small trees lay in tangled rows about the fresh gravel; farther back,the standing bush ran in a broken line against the fading light. Infront, thin mist drifted across the muskeg where slender trunks rosefrom the quaking mud. Not far off a high, wooden trestle carried therails across a ravine. The bridge would presently be rebuilt with steel,but in the meantime the frame was open and the gaps between the tieswere wide.
It was getting dark and noisy blast-lamps threw up pillars of whitefire. The line had sunk in the afternoon and it was necessary to liftthe rails and fill up the subsidence before the next gravel trainarrived. Lister was angry and puzzled, for he had pushed the road-bedacross to near the other side, but the rails had not sunk in the newbelt but in ground over which the trains had run.
By and by a man joined him and remarked: "The boys have got the ties up,but I reckon they won't fix the track for three or four hours. Looks asif the blamed muskeg was going to beat us."
"She can't beat us," Lister rejoined impatiently. "The trouble is,hauling the stuff she swallows runs up construction costs, and thatcounts against us. Did you leave Willis with the gang?"
The other laughed. "I did not. He was tired. Wanted something at theoffice and allowed he'd stop and take a smoke."
"Hustle him out when you go along, Kemp. I'd sooner our chiefs down Easthad kept that young man. The job's not soft enough for him. However, Is'pose he lighted the lamp across the bridge?"
"Willis has friends," Kemp remarked meaningly, and indicated areflection behind the trees. "The lamp's burning."
Lister glanced at the trembling light. "I expect it's good enough forthe engineer, but the flame's not steady. Willis hasn't bothered to getthe pressure right. It's possible he didn't wait until she warmed theoil."
The powerful lamp had been carried across the bridge in order to warnthe engineer of the gravel train, who on his last journey had run to theend of the line. The light could be seen for some distance up the track.
"I got after Hardie about making good time. We must dump his load in thesoft spot before we stop," Lister resumed.
"He's coming now; climbing the height of land," said Kemp. "He'll lether go all out when he makes the top."
A measured throb rolled across the woods, and as the noise got louderthe beat of the exhaust marked the progress of the train. The explosivesnorts indicated that the locomotive labored up the last steep pitch,and Lister sat down by the rails. He was tired and would not be neededuntil the gravel plough threw the rattling ballast off the cars. After afew moments he looked up, for a man came out of the gloom.
"Hello, Willis! I s'pose you've been taking a quiet smoke?"
"That's so," said the other. "I've hustled round since sun-up andimagined the gang could get along for half an hour without my watching.You want to leave something to your foremen."
Lister said nothing. He did not choose his helpers, but tried to makethe best use of those the bosses sent. Willis had some useful qualities,but he was slack, and got sulky if one drove him hard. The young man hadcome from the drawing-office of a famous bridge-building works.
In the meantime, the rumble of the gravel train grew to a pulsatingroar. The locomotive had crossed the divide and was running furiouslydown grade. The roughly-ballasted track was uneven, but the engineer hadbeen on board since daybreak and no doubt wanted to finish his job.
"She's in the rock cut now," Kemp remarked. "Hardie ought to throttledown when he runs out and sees the light."
Lister listened. The swelling note indicated that the train had left thecut, but it did not look as if the engineer was pulling up.
"She's coming along pretty fast," said Willis. "If he doesn't snub hersoon, she'll jump the steel and take the muskeg."
Next moment Lister was on his feet. Hardie was driving too fast; Listerdoubted if he could stop before the heavy train plunged through thebroken track. The unsteady white flicker behind the trees had sunk andchanged to smoky red. If looked as if the oil was not vaporizingproperly and the lamp was going out. When the engineer saw the light itwould be too late.
"Get the boys off the track. I'll try to fix the lamp," Lister shouted,and started for the bridge.
The errand was not his. Willis had lighted the lamp: moreover, one mighthave sent a workman, but when a job was urgent Lister went himself. Thejob was urgent and dangerous. Unless he made good speed, he would meetthe train on the bridge and the cylinders of the locomotive projectedbeyond the edge.
The track was rough and fresh gravel rolled under his feet. Now and thenhe struck a cross-tie and nearly fell. It had got dark and among thetrees the gloom was deep; one could not see the ties. Yet he must run,and his breath got labored and his heart thumped. He did not know wherethe train was, only that it was near. The woods throbbed with a savagedin; the big cars, loaded with rattling gravel, clanged and roared asthey plunged down grade.
Lister hardly thought he could stop the train. It looked as if he wouldbe caught on the trestle, but he meant to go on. He did not argue aboutit; he was rather moved by instinctive stubbornness. At moments ofstrain one does not argue and logic has no appeal. Character counts forall, and Lister followed his bent. His job was urgent and must becarried out.
When he reached the bridge he saw white threads of water between thetimbers of the open frame. The spacing of the ties was not regular, andif he stepped short, or too far, he would go through. Then, if he didnot strike a brace, he would fall upon the rocks in the stream. All thesame, he saw the blaze of the head-lamp pick out the trees across theravine and sprang on to the bridge.
Somehow he hit the ties; perhaps by subconscious judgment, and perhapsby good luck. Then he felt loose gravel under his feet and thrilled witha strange fierce satisfaction. His breath was labored and his body wetby sweat, but the moving beam had not reached the lamp. He was going tomake it.
When the black front of a gravel car leaped out of the gloom he jumpedoff the track. The locomotive pushed the cars, the train was long, andthe lamp was but a few yards off. It had not gone out, although theflame had sunk to a faint red jet that would not be seen in the dust.His hands shook, but he gave the pump a few strokes and turned the valvewheel. The red jet got white and leaped higher and Lister, pumping hard,looked up the track. Big cars, rocking and banging, rushed past in acloud of dust. Bits of gravel struck him and rattled against the lamp.The blurred, dark figures of men who sat upon the load cut against thefan-shaped beam, and in the background he saw a shower of leapingsparks.
But the other light was growing and Lister turned the wheel. Burning oilsplashed around him, a pillar of fire rushed up, and when a whistlescreamed he let go the valve and turned from the blinding dust. He wasshaking, but the heavy snorting stopped. The engineer had seen the lightand cut off steam.
When Lister looked round the train was gone. He had done what he hadundertaken, and after waiting for a few moments he started back. Now hecould go cautiously, he stopped and tried to brace himself at the end ofthe bridge. Although he had run across not long since, he shrank fromthe dark, forbidding gaps. For all that, he must get back, and feelingcarefully for the ties, he reached the other side and was for some timeengaged at the muskeg where two cars had overrun the broken rails. Atlength he went to the log shack he used for his office andsleeping-room, and soon after he lighted his pipe Kemp came in.
"You made it," Kemp remarked. "When you stopped me at the bridge I sawyou'd get there."
Lister laughed. "Now you talk about it, I believe I did shout you
to goback. Anyhow, you were some way behind. Did Willis come?"
"He did not. Willis was badly rattled and started for the muskeg.Thought he might get the track thrown across the hole, perhaps! I'mrather sorry for the kid. But what are you going to do about it?"
"Report we had two cars bogged and state the cost of labor. That's all,I think."
Kemp nodded. "Well, perhaps there's no use in talking about the lamp.Our business is to make good, using the tools we've got. All the same,if they want a man somewhere else, I guess I'd recommend Willis."
He smoked quietly for a time, and then resumed: "We don't get forwardmuch. In fact, if the new Western irrigation company would take me on, Ithink I'd quit."
Lister pondered. Since his short stop at Winnipeg he had been consciousof a strange restlessness. He wanted something the woods could not give,and had begun to think life had more to offer than he had known.Besides, he was not making much progress.
"Since the double track is to be pushed on across the plains, thedepartment will need a bigger staff and there ought to be a chance forsome of us," he said. "Then there's the new work with the long bridgeson the lake section that will carry higher pay. We're next on turn andhave some claim. They ought to move us up."
"I doubt. We didn't come from a famous office, and it's not alwaysenough to know your job."
"Somebody will get a better post, and if I'm lucky I'll stay. If not, Ithink I'll try the irrigation works."
"I feel like that," Kemp declared. "But suppose the irrigation peopleturn our application down?"
"Then I'll lie off for a time. Except when I went, to McGill with moneyI earned on a wheat barge, I haven't stopped work since I was a boy. NowI'm getting tired and think I'll pull out and go across to look at theOld Country. My father was an Englishman, and I have some money toburn."
"A good plan," Kemp agreed. "After a change you come back fresh with astronger punch. Well, if we're not put on to the lake section, we'll trythe irrigation scheme."
He got up and went off, but Lister sat on his bunk and smoked. The bunkwas packed with swamp-grass on which his coarse Hudson's Bay blanketswere laid, and the shack was bare. Ragged slickers and old overallsoccupied the wall, long gum-boots a corner. A big box carried an ironwash-basin, and a small table some drawing instruments. Lister was notfastidious, and, as a rule, did not stop long enough at one spot tojustify his making his shack comfortable. Besides, he found it necessaryto concentrate on his work, and had not much time to think aboutrefinements.
All the same, he felt the shack was dreary and his life was bleak. Hehad not felt this until he went to Winnipeg. On the whole, he had likedthe struggle against physical obstacles. It was his proper job, but thestruggle was stern and sometimes exhausting, and his reward was small.Now he wanted something different, and gave himself to vague andbrooding discontent.
Ruth Duveen had broken his former tranquillity. In a sense, she hadawakened him, and he imagined she had meant to do so. All the same, tothink she loved him was ridiculous; she was rather experimenting withfresh material. Yet she was accountable for his discontent. She hadhelped him to see that while he labored in the woods he had missed much.He wanted the society of cultivated women and men with power andinfluence; to use control instead of carrying out orders; and to knowsomething of refinement and beauty. After all, his father was acultivated Englishman, although Lister imagined he had inheritedqualities that helped him most from his Canadian mother. It was all hehad inherited, except some debts he had laboriously paid.
He admitted that to realize his ambitions might be hard, but he meant totry. Canada was for the young and stubborn. If his chiefs did notpromote him, he would make a plunge, and if his new plan did not work,he would go over and see the Old Country. Then he would come back,braced and refreshed, and try his luck again.
Putting down his pipe, he got into bed. He was tired and in the morningthe gravel cars must be pulled out of the muskeg. The job was awkward,and while he thought about it he went to sleep.