THE BRIDGE
As the pack came racing up the gulch, we waited an instant until a
narrow place crowded them into a bunch, when Dick called out, "Now!" and
we all fired together into the midst of them. Three of the wolves fell,
two dead--I could see the feather of Pedro's arrow sticking out of the
ribs of one of them--and one with its back broken.
I had hoped that the strange thunder of the rifles would send them
flying--but no. They all stopped again for a moment, and then, maddened
seemingly at the sight of the broken-backed wolf dragging itself about
and screeching with pain--poor beast--they all fell upon the unfortunate
creature and worried it to death. Then, with yells of rage, on they came
again.
The pause had given us time to re-load. Dick and Pedro, quicker than I,
fired a second shot, and once more two wolves fell writhing among the
stones. The next moment we were surrounded, and for a minute or two
after that I was too much engaged myself to note what the others were
doing.
A gaunt, long-legged wolf sprang up on the rock within three feet of me.
I fired my rifle into his chest. Another, close beside him, was within
an ace of scrambling up when I hit him across the side of his head a
fearful crack with the empty rifle-barrel and knocked him off again.
Then, seeing a third with his feet on top of the rock, his head thrown
back in his straining efforts to get up, I sprang to that side, kicked
the beast under his chin and knocked him down.
Meanwhile my companions had been similarly engaged and similarly
successful. Pedro in particular, having dropped his bow and taken in one
hand the short-handled ax he always carried with him, while in the other
he held his big sheath-knife, had laid about him to such effect that he
had put four of the enemy out of the fight--two of them permanently.
Dick was the only one who had received any damage, and that was to his
clothes and not to himself. His rifle being empty, he had used it to
push back the wolves as they jumped up. In doing so he had stepped too
near the edge of the rock, and one of the watchful beasts, springing up
at that moment, had caught the leg of his trousers with its teeth,
tearing it from end to end and coming dangerously near to pulling my
partner down. Pedro, however, quick as a flash, had delivered a
back-handed "swipe" with his ax at the wolf's neck, nearly cutting off
its head, and Dick was saved. It was an unpleasantly close thing,
though.
It was a short, sharp tussle, and at the end of it nine of the sixteen
wolves lay scattered about the bed of the ravine, dead or helpless. This
seemed to take the fight out of the remaining seven--as well it
might--who retreated down the arroyo, turning at the corner and looking
back at us with their lips drawn up and their teeth showing, seeming to
convey a threat, as though they would say, "Your turn this time--but
just you wait a bit."
Such unexpected fierceness and such determination on the part of the
wolves--by daylight, too--scared me rather; Dick also, I noted, looked
pretty sober, as, turning to the Mexican, he said:
"You were right, Pedro: these wolves _are_ dangerous--a good deal more
so than I had supposed. Our chances would have been pretty slim if we
hadn't had this rock so handy. If this sort of thing is going to happen
at any time, day or night, it will add very much to the difficulty of
the work up here. We shall have to be continuously on the lookout; it
won't do to separate; and wherever we are at work, we shall have to
prepare a place of refuge near at hand. I don't like it. I've seen
wolves by the hundred, but I never saw any before so savage and so
persistent as these. I tell you, I don't half like it."
"And I don't either," said I, glad to find that I was not the only one
to feel uneasy. "Did you notice, Dick, how thin they all were? I've
often heard the expression, 'gaunt as a wolf,' and now I know what it
means. They seemed half-starved."
"That is it, senor," remarked Pedro. "The wolves up here are very
many--too many for the space they have. Here they are, the cañons all
round them, they cannot get away. All the time they are half-starved,
all the time they hunt for food, all the time they are dangerous. Often
in winter they eat each other. It is well if we move away from here.
Pretty soon there will come another pack to eat up these dead ones."
"Let us get out, then!" I cried. "I've had enough of them for one day!"
The others were quite ready to move, so, jumping down from our fortress
we started along the ravine again, this time keeping our ears wide open
for suspicious sounds, and feeling a good deal relieved when, on the
edge of the lake, we sat down to our lunch with an old low-branching
pine tree close by, up which we could go in a jiffy if need be.
But though the presence of so many wolves on the "island" was something
we had not anticipated, something, moreover, which was likely to add
very much to the difficulty of our undertaking, we did not for a moment
contemplate its abandonment. It meant the use of great caution in going
about the work, but as to backing out, I do not think the idea so much
as occurred to either of us.
As soon as we had sat down to our lunch, therefore, we began the
discussion of the best method of procedure.
"It is a big undertaking, Dick," said I, "a very big undertaking; but it
looks like a straightforward piece of work; and it seems to me that what
has been done once can certainly be done again, especially as we have
our line already laid out for us. Don't you think so?"
"Yes, I certainly think so," replied my partner. "What those Pueblos
accomplished with their poor implements, we can surely do again with
our superior tools. And some of it, at least, we can do ourselves, I
believe--with our own hands, I mean. When it comes to digging out the
ditch on the other side of the cañon, it will pay us to hire Mexicans;
but the preliminary work of bringing the water down to the cañon, and,
perhaps, the building of the flume, I believe we can do ourselves."
"The building of the flume," said I, "is likely to be a pretty big job
by itself. We can undoubtedly get the water down that far--that is
simple--but the building of the flume is quite another thing. A small
flume won't do; it has to be a big, strong, solid structure, and it
strikes me that the very first thing to be done--the laying of the two
big stringers across the cañon--is going to take us all we know, and a
trifle over. In fact, I don't see myself how we are to do it."
"I think I do," rejoined my partner; "but we shall need tools for the
purpose. We can't build a big, solid flume with one pick, one shovel and
two axes."
"No, we certainly can't," I replied.
"We shall need, too, a large amount of lumber," continued Dick, "heavy
pieces, besides boards for floor and sides--two inch planks, at
least--three inch would be better. We shall need several thousand feet
altogether."
"Well?"
"Well, there is no lumber to be had nearer than Mosby, and to bring it
from Mosby is out of the question. In the first place it would cost too
much; and in the second place it is too far to pack it on mule-back."
I nodded. "You mean we shall have to cut it out ourselves, here on the
spot."
"Yes; and to do that we shall need a long, two-handled rip-saw, and a
saw-pit to work in. Besides this, the other tools we shall require, as
far as I can think of them on the spur of the moment, are two or three
pulley-blocks for placing the big timbers, hammers, nails, cross-cut
saws and a big auger; for I propose that we pin the heavy parts together
with wooden pins: it will save the carriage on spikes, and be just as
good, if not better. Don't you think so, Pedro?"
Pedro approved of the idea, and we were about to continue the
discussion, when there broke out a great yelling and snarling of wolves
up the arroyo. Dick and I sprang to our feet, and instinctively cast an
eye up into the adjacent tree in search of a convenient limb; but
Pedro, unconcernedly continuing his meal, remarked:
"It is only that they eat the dead ones."
"Well, they're a deal too close to be pleasant," said Dick. "I vote we
move on down to the cañon and get a little further away from them."
As I was heartily of the same opinion, we moved down accordingly, and
there on the brink of the gorge surveyed the scene of our future labors.
"Look here," said Dick. "Here's where we shall have to cut our
timbers--on this side. See what a splendid supply there is right at
hand."
He pointed to a scar on the mountain close by where a landslide had
brought down scores of trees of all sizes.
"When did that come down, Pedro?" he asked.
"Only last spring, señor," replied the Mexican. "And the trees are sound
and good."
"Mighty lucky for us," continued my partner; "for, you see, on the other
side trees are scarce and they average rather small. But on this side,
there are not only seasoned trees of all sizes in abundance, but it will
be a down-hill pull to get them into place--a big item by itself.
Besides that, just back here on this little level spot we can dig our
saw-pit very conveniently. The only question to my mind is, whether we
should not move our camp over to this side. If it were not for the
wolves I should certainly say, 'Yes'; but as it is, I feel rather
doubtful. The nearest water is up there at the lake, and if we did move
over to this side that is where we should have to make our camp."
"It's a long way up to the lake, Dick," said I, "and it might be
dangerous going to and from our work--especially going back in the
evening. In fact, it might easily happen that we couldn't get back at
all."
"That's what I was thinking of," replied my partner.
"On the other hand," I continued, "if we keep our present camp, it will
be very inconvenient, and will waste a great deal of time, to come to
our work every day by way of those stone steps we climbed this morning."
"Yes, that's it. But there's yet another way which, I think, would get
us over both difficulties; one which would combine all the advantages
and at the same time do away with the danger--or, to say the least, the
inconvenience--of being harried by the wolves, and that is to build a
bridge here. Then, if we move our camp to that little 'park' just below
here, where we found that spring yesterday, it would only take us five
minutes in the morning to come up here, cross the bridge and go to work.
How does that strike you? What do you think, Pedro?"
"It is good," replied Pedro. "First thing of everything a bridge; and
that is easy. We make it to-day before the sun set."
"We do, do we?" cried Dick, laughing. "That will be pretty expeditious;
but if you think you know how, Pedro, go ahead and we'll follow."
Pedro's eye twinkled. "The señor means it?" he asked.
"Certainly," replied Dick.
"_Bueno_," said Pedro, briefly.
There was a little pine tree growing just on the brink of the chasm, and
without another word the Mexican drew his ax from his belt, stepped up
to the tree and cut it off about four feet from the ground, allowing the
top to fall from the precipice into the stream below.
"What's that for, Pedro?" I asked, in surprise.
Pedro grinned. "I show you pretty quick," said he. "Come, now. We go
back to the other side."
Though we could not fathom his plan, having voluntarily made him captain
for the time being we could not do less than obey orders; so away we
went at a brisk walk back to the crack in the wall, down the steps in
the rock, along the bank of the creek to camp--where we picked up our
own ax--then up the ledge to the point opposite the one we had just
left--a two-mile walk to accomplish thirty feet.
Here, the first thing Pedro did was to take his lariat, a
beautifully-made rawhide rope strong enough to hold a thousand-pound
steer, tie a stone to one end and throw the stone across the cañon. I
could not think what he was doing it for, until I saw that he was
measuring the width. We made it about twenty-seven feet, its remarkable
narrowness being accounted for by the great overhang of the cliff on our
side.
[Illustration: "I COULD NOT THINK WHAT HE WAS DOING IT FOR."]
"Now," said Pedro, "we go up the mountain here a little way and cut some
poles. It is just close by up here."
We soon found the place, and there we cut off three poles about thirty
feet long and eight inches thick at the small end. These we trimmed
down to about the same thickness at the butt, and having roughly squared
them, we dragged them down to the edge of the gorge.
So far it had been a simple proceeding, but what puzzled me was how
Pedro proposed to lay these sticks across the cañon. This, too, as it
turned out, proved to be a simple matter, but its first step was one to
make your hair stand on end to look at, nevertheless.
It was now we found out why Pedro had cut off the little tree on the
other side. Taking his lariat, he swung the loop above his head a time
or two and cast it across the gorge. The loop settled over the
tree-stump, when the Mexican pulled it tight and then proceeded with
great care to tie the other end of the rope to a tree which stood very
convenient on our side.
What was he up to?
Dick and I stood watching him in silence, when he stepped to the edge of
the cliff, took hold of the rope with both hands, and swung himself off
into space!
My! It gave me cold shivers all down my back to see him hanging there
with nothing but that thread of a rope to prevent his falling on the
rocks a thousand feet below!
Motionless and breathless, Dick and I watched him as he went swinging
across, hand over hand--the rope sagging in the middle in an alarming
manner--and profound was our relief when he drew himself up and stepped
safely upon the opposite wall.
But though this tight-rope performance had given us palpitation of the
heart, Pedro himself appeared to be absolutely unaffected. With perfect
calmness and unconcern, he turned round and said in the most
matter-of-fact tone:
"Now undo the rope and tie it to the end of one of those poles."
As Pedro evidently regarded his feat of gymnastics as nothing out of the
common, we affected to look upon it in the same light, so, following his
directions, we tied the rope to one of the poles, when the Mexican began
pulling it toward him, we pushing at the other end. Presently the pole
was so far over the edge that it began to teeter, when Pedro called to
us to go slowly. Then, while we pried it forward inch by inch, Pedro
retreated backward up the gully until the end of the pole bumped against
the wall on his side, when he came forward, keeping the rope taut all
the time, lifted the pole and set its end on the rocks. The first beam
of our bridge was laid.
The other two poles we sent across by the same process, and then,
scraping a bed for them in the sand and gravel, we laid them side by
side, two with their butt-ends on our side, the other--the middle
one--reversed.
Pedro then took from his pocket a long strip of deer-hide with which he
bound the three poles together, when we, at his request, having once
more tied the rope to the tree, he laid his hand upon it, using it as a
hand-rail, and walked across to our side, where with a second buckskin
thong he bound the poles together at that end.
Next he walked back to the middle of the bridge, and holding the rope
with both hands, jumped up and down upon the poles, to make sure of
their solidity, and finding them all right, he went to the far end,
loosened the loop from the tree-stump, threw it across to us, and then,
without any hand-rail this time, walked back across the flimsy-looking
bridge to our side!
What a head the man must have had! The bridge at its widest did not
measure thirty inches, and yet the Mexican--barefooted, to be
sure--walked erect across that fearful chasm without a thought of
turning dizzy. I suppose he was born without nerves, and had never
cultivated any, as we more civilized people do by our habits of life.
For years he had lived out-of-doors, always at exercise, used to
climbing in all sorts of dangerous places, and what perhaps may have
counted for as much as anything else, he was one of the few Mexicans I
have known who abjured that habit so common among his people--the habit
of smoking cigarettes.
I know very well that I, though I did not smoke cigarettes either, and
though I thought myself pretty clear-headed, would never have dared such
a thing, unless under pressure of great and imminent danger.
"What did you untie the rope for, Pedro?" I asked. "Why not leave it for
a hand-rail?"
"Because the wolves will eat it," replied Pedro. "We will bring one of
your hempen ropes and tie there: the wolves will not trouble that."
"By the way, Pedro!" cried Dick. "How about those wolves? Won't they
come across the bridge?"
"I think not," the Mexican answered. "They are wary and suspicious--it
is the nature of a wolf--and I think they will fear to venture."
At that moment the sun set behind the peak, and as though its setting
had been a signal, there arose in three or four different directions the
howls of wolves. They were coming out for their nightly hunt.
"Señores," said Pedro, "we will see very soon if the wolves will cross
the bridge. It will not be long before they find our trail and then they
will come down here. Let us hide us and watch. Up here, behind these
rocks, is a good place."
A little way up the bank, only a few steps back from the edge of the
gorge, we lay down and waited. Presently, from the direction of the
lake, there suddenly arose a joyous chorus of yelps, which proclaimed
that our trail had been discovered. And not to us only was the "find"
proclaimed. A second pack, hearing the call, hastened to join the hunt,
hoping for a share in the spoil; we caught a glimpse of them as they
came racing down one of the slopes which bordered the gully. The
swelling clamor drew nearer and nearer, and pretty soon, with a rush of
pattering feet, the wolves appeared; there must have been thirty of
them.
Down to the edge of the cañon they came, and there they drew up. One of
them, a big, gray old fellow, the leader of one of the packs, probably,
advanced to the end of the bridge, sniffed at it and drew hastily back.
One after another, other wolves came forward, sniffed and withdrew. It
was evident that Pedro had guessed right: they dared not cross.
At this balking of their hopes they set up a howl of disappointment.
Poor things! I felt quite sorry for them. They were _so_ hungry; and yet
they dared not cross. Nevertheless, though I might feel sorry for them,
I was more than glad that they feared to venture, for against such a
pack as that our chances would have been small indeed.
"Señores," whispered Pedro, "I try them yet a little more. It is quite
safe. Stay you here and watch."
With that, taking his ax in his hand, he rose up in full view of the
pack and walked down to the end of the bridge.
Such an uproar as broke forth I never heard. Many of the wolves ran up
the banks on either side of the gully in order to get a sight of Pedro,
and every one of them, those in front, those behind and those on the
sides, lifted their heads and yelled at the man calmly standing there,
scarce ten steps away.
But they dared not cross.
One of them, indeed, crowded forward against his will by those behind,
was pushed out on to the bridge a little way, when, striving to get
back, his hind feet slipped off. I thought he was gone, but by desperate
scratching he succeeded in saving himself, when, rendered crazy by
fright and rage he attacked the nearest wolves, fought his way through
to the rear and fled straight away up the gully.
This seemed to settle the matter. The whole pack, as though struck with
panic, turned and pursued him. In ten seconds not one of them was to be
seen.
As Dick and I rose up from our hiding-place, Pedro came back to us.
"You see," said he, "we are quite safe."
"Yes," replied Dick. "It is evident we have nothing to fear from them on
this side--and I'm mighty glad of it. Well, let us get down to camp. I
think we've done a pretty good day's work, taking it all round, and I
shall be glad of a good supper and a good rest."
"So shall I," was my response. "And as to our day's work, Dick, I'm much
mistaken if it isn't by long odds the most important one to us that
either you or I ever put in."