least, we should bivouac tonight very near thepass. Our camp had been made at the last level spot; we partiallyhobbled the pack animals so they would not stray too far, and left amplefood for them, and cached all but the most necessary of light trailgear. As we prepared to start upward on the steep, narrow track--hardlymore than a rabbit-run--I glanced at Kyla and stated, "We'll work onrope from the first stretch. Starting now."
One of the Darkovan brothers stared at me with contempt. "Call yourselfa mountain man, Jason? Why, my little daughter could scramble up _that_track without so much as a push on her behind!"
I set my chin and glared at him. "The rocks aren't easy, and some ofthese men aren't used to working on rope at all. We might as well getused to it, because when we start working along the ledges, I don't wantanybody who doesn't know how."
They still didn't like it, but nobody protested further until I directedthe huge Kendricks to the center of the second rope. He glared viciouslyat the light nylon line and demanded in some apprehension, "Hadn't Ibetter go last until I know what I'm doing? Hemmed in between the two ofyou, I'm apt to do something damned dumb!"
Hjalmar roared with laughter and informed him that the center place on a3-man rope was always reserved for weaklings, novices and amateurs. Iexpected Kendricks' temper to flare up: the burly Spaceforce man and theDarkovan giant glared at one another, then Kendricks only shrugged andknotted the line through his belt. Kyla warned Kendricks and Lerrysabout looking down from ledges, and we started.
The first stretch was almost too simple, a clear track winding higherand higher for a couple of miles. Pausing to rest for a moment, we couldturn and see the entire valley outspread below us. Gradually the trailgrew steeper, in spots pitched almost at a 50-degree angle, and wasscattered with gravel, loose rock and shale, so that we placed our feetcarefully, leaning forward to catch at handholds and steady ourselvesagainst rocks. I tested each boulder carefully, since any weight placedagainst an unsteady rock might dislodge it on somebody below. One of theDarkovan brothers--Vardo, I thought--was behind me, separated by ten ortwelve feet of slack rope, and twice when his feet slipped on gravel hestumbled and gave me an unpleasant jerk. What he muttered was perfectlytrue; on slopes like this, where a fall wasn't dangerous anyhow, it wasbetter to work unroped; then a slip bothered no one but the slipper.But I was finding out what I wanted to know--what kind of climbers I hadto lead through the Hellers.
Along a cliff face the trail narrowed horizontally, leading across afoot-wide ledge overhanging a sheer drop of fifty feet and covered withloose shale and scrub plants. Nothing, of course, to an experiencedclimber--a foot-wide ledge might as well be a four-lane superhighway.Kendricks made a nervous joke about a tightrope walker, but when histurn came he picked his way securely, without losing balance. Theamateurs--Lerrys Ridenow, Regis, Rafe--came across without hesitation,but I wondered how well they would have done at a less secure altitude;to a real mountaineer, a footpath is a footpath, whether in a meadow,above a two-foot drop, a thirty-foot ledge, or a sheer mountain facethree miles above the first level spot.
After crossing the ledge the going was harder. A steeper trail, inplaces nearly imperceptible, led between thick scrub and overhangingtrees, thickly forested. In spots their twisted roots obscured thetrail; in others the persistent growth had thrust aside rocks and dirt.We had to make our way through tangles of underbrush which would havebeen nothing to a trailman, but which made our ground-accustomed bodiesache with the effort of getting over or through them; and once the trackwas totally blocked by a barricade of tangled dead brushwood, borne downon floodwater after a sudden thaw or cloud-burst. We had to workpainfully around it over a three-hundred-foot rockslide, which we couldcross only one at a time, crab-fashion, leaning double to balanceourselves; and no one complained now about the rope.
Toward noon I had the first intimation that we were not alone on theslope.
At first it was no more than a glimpse of motion out of the corner of myeyes, the shadow of a shadow. The fourth time I saw it, I called softlyto Kyla: "See anything?"
"I was beginning to think it was my eyes, or the altitude. I saw,Jason."
"Look for a spot where we can take a break," I directed. We climbedalong a shallow ledge, the faint imperceptible flutters in the brushwoodclimbing with us on either side. I muttered to the girl, "I'll be gladwhen we get clear of this. At least we'll be able to see what's comingafter us!"
"If it comes to a fight," she said surprisingly, "I'd rather fight ongravel than ice."
* * * * *
Over a rise, there was a roaring sound; Kyla swung up and balanced on arock-wedged tree root, cupped her mouth to her hands and called,"Rapids!"
I pulled myself up to the edge of the drop and stood looking down intothe narrow gully. Here the narrow track we had been following wascrossed and obscured by the deep, roaring rapids of a mountain stream.
Less than twenty feet across, it tumbled in an icy flood, almost awaterfall, pitching over the lip of a crag above us. It had sliced aravine five feet deep in the mountainside, and came roaring down with arushing noise that made my head vibrate. It looked formidable; anyonestepping into it would be knocked off his feet in seconds, and swept athousand feet down the mountainside by the force of the current.
Rafe scrambled gingerly over the gullied lip of the channel it had cut,and bent carefully to scoop up water in his palm and drink. "Phew, it'scolder than Zandru's ninth hell. Must come straight down from aglacier!"
It did. I remembered the trail and remembered the spot. Kendricks joinedme at the water's edge, and asked, "How do we get across?"
"I'm not sure," I said, studying the racing white torrent. Overhead,about twenty feet from where we clustered on the slope, the thickbranches of enormous trees overhung the rapids, their long rootspartially bared, gnarled and twisted by recurrent floods; and betweenthese trees swayed one of the queer swing-bridges of the trailmen,hanging only about ten feet above the water.
Even I had never learned to navigate one of these swing-bridges withoutassistance; human arms are no longer suited to brachiation. I might havemanaged it once; but at present, except as a desperate final expedient,it was out of the question. Rafe or Lerrys, who were lightly built andacrobatic, could probably do it as a simple stunt on the level, in afield; on a steep and rocky mountainside, where a fall might mean beingdashed a thousand feet down the torrent, I doubted it. The trailmen'sbridge was out ... but what other choice was there?
I beckoned to Kendricks, he being the man I was the most inclined totrust with my life at the moment, and said, "It looks uncrossable, but Ithink two men could get across, if they were steady on their feet. Theothers can hold us on ropes, in case we do get knocked down. If we canget to the opposite bank, we can stretch a fixed rope from that snub ofrock--" I pointed, "and the others can cross with that. The first menover will be the only ones to run any risk. Want to try?"
I liked it better that he didn't answer right away, but went to the edgeof the gully and peered down the rocky chasm. Doubtless, if we wereknocked down, all seven of the others could haul us up again; but notbefore we'd been badly smashed on the rocks. And once again I caughtthat elusive shadow of movement in the brushwood; if the trailmen chosea moment when we were half-in, half-out of the rapids, we'd beridiculously vulnerable to attack.
"We ought to be able to get a fixed rope easier than that," Hjalmarsaid, and took one of the spares from his rucksack. He coiled it, makinga running loop on one end, and standing precariously on the lip of therapids, sent it spinning toward the outcrop of rock we had chosen as afixed point. "If I can get it over...."
The rope fell short, and Hjalmar reeled it in and cast the loop again.He made three more unsuccessful tries before finally, with held breath,we watched the noose settle over the rocky snub. Gently, pulling theline taut, we watched it stretch above the rapids. The knot tightened,fastened. Hjalmar grinned and let out his breath.
"There," he said, and jerked hard on the rope, testing it
with a longhard pull. The rocky outcrop broke, with a sharp crack, split, andtoppled entirely into the rapids, the sudden jerk almost pulling Hjalmaroff his feet. The boulder rolled, with a great bouncing splash, fasterand faster down the mountain, taking the rope with it.
We just stood and stared for a minute. Hjalmar swore horribly, in theunprintable filth of the mountain tongue, and his brothers joined in."How the devil was I to know the _rock_ would split off?"
"Better for it to split now than when we were depending on it," Kylasaid stolidly. "I have a better idea." She was untying herself from therope as she spoke, and knotting one of the spares through her belt. Shehanded the other end of the rope to Lerrys. "Hold on to this," she said,and slipped out of her