BEAR PASS
YEARS beyond conjecture had passed since a great forest fire had swept
across the waste of chaparral which Charmian and Doctor Shonto looked
upon. Probably never before or since in the history of the California
forests had such a far-reaching fire ravaged the peaks and valleys.
A mighty forest had stood there then, to be laid low by the consuming
flames. In its place had come the comparatively rapid growing
chaparral, claiming the land to the exclusion of all other vegetation.
Here and there a lone pine stood erect and disdainful above the
twelve-foot brush, and here and there on the ground under the bushes
lay down trees, ancient corpses that had disintegrated to corklike
particles and powder, mere shadows of logs that were ready to crumble
when a boot toe touched them.
The chaparral was compromised of buckthorn bushes, interspersed
with manzanita. The buckthorn bushes formed what is known as locked
chaparral--which means that their prickly upper branches are twined
and intertwined until they form a solid mat, more impenetrable than a
hedge. So compact was this mat that little sun trickled through to the
earth, and as a consequence of this not a blade of grass could live
under the dense canopy. But even where a single chaparral bush grows
in the open no grass will be found within a radius of ten feet on all
sides of it. It claims the land, selfishly sucks all the nutriment from
the soil, and will share existence with no other plant.
The ground under the canopy was covered with the tiny leaves that had
shattered off through countless years. This carpet was several inches
thick, with dry, newly shattered leaves on top, and, below these,
leaves in various stages of disintegration, down to the bottom layer
of powdered leaf-mould. To stand erect and try to push one’s way into
this thicket would be as useless as attempting to forge through a
barbed-wire entanglement. But underneath the branches the ground was
clean, and no limbs grew from the sturdy trunks of the bushes lower
than a foot from the earth. And as the limbs had a decided upward
trend, like the limbs of a cypress tree, there was ample opportunity
for one to crawl on hands and knees for any distance that he might
choose. Of course now and then close-growing bushes would balk him,
but there always would be a way around. To travel through the thicket
depended entirely on one’s powers of endurance in reverting to the mode
of going calling employed by his simian precursors. To hack a trail
through was a task for an army of axemen.
The pilgrims seated themselves on the ground and looked expectantly at
each other.
“What do you think of it, Doctor?” asked Charmian.
“I think,” replied Shonto, “that we’d better go back.”
“Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
For a long time Charmian was thoughtful, a little pucker between her
eyebrows. Then she resolutely shook her head, and her upper lip turned
up a trifle in her characteristic smile.
“No, we’ve set our hands to the plough,” she said. “‘Go back’ is not in
my lexicon.”
“I think,” Shonto returned, “that a half-hour or so of crawling on all
fours under that tangle of branches will convince the two of us that
we’ve never known fatigue before.”
“Which doesn’t mean that you’re not game, of course.”
“I am thinking more of you than of myself,” he told her.
“Don’t do that,” she requested. “I think I’ve shown that I’m pretty
tough. And I’m of the opinion, Doctor, that I shall crawl better than
you will. I have less weight to push along, and I’m somewhat of a
tumbler, though I guess I’ve never told you. I can turn handsprings,
do the cartwheel, and throw flip-flops forward and backward. My life
has not been entirely wasted, you see. Besides all that, women are
more primitive than men, both mentally and physically. I imagine that,
’way back in the misty ages when we were learning to pick up a club to
defend ourselves instead of biting altogether, man was walking erect a
long time before the female of the species stood up and tried the new
fad. Don’t you know that a woman can sit down on the floor with more
comfort than a man? You birds are over-civilized, and that’s what’s
the matter with the world. Are you ready? Let’s go!”
In an hour Dr. Inman Shonto was ready to admit that her logic was
sound. “You go back farther than primitive man,” he puffed, as he
lumbered along after her. “You go back to when we were saurians
wallowing in the slime and the seaweed. You’re a lizard.”
In the beginning he had taken the lead, but his slow, clumsy progress
had nettled her.
“Give me the compass,” she had demanded. “I’ll go ahead and show you
how. It’s a pity you’re so big. ‘The race is not to the swift, nor the
battle to the strong’--Ecclesiastes something or other. They’re to the
springy-boned and wiggly. Watch auntie, Inman!”
Watching auntie was difficult, for auntie glided along so bonelessly
and snakily that half the time she was out of sight and had to wait for
him to catch up. When an occasional low-growing limb fought her demand
for the right of way, she went flat and swam under it, while the man
was obliged to surrender and find a way around it.
Often the packs on their shoulders caught like Absalom’s hair, and then
there was difficulty for both. One usually had to extricate the other.
“You’re like a pig caught under a fence,” the widow told her companion.
“Why don’t you squeal when I pull your leg? And, my stars, you’re
heavy, man!”
Despite the carpet of leaves under them, their knees became chafed.
They cut pieces of leather from the uppers of their high-laced boots,
made two holes on either side of them, and tied them over their knees
with heavy twine. Every muscle in their bodies ached. They were obliged
to rest frequently, especially the doctor, to lie flat on the earth and
straighten their limbs. At rare intervals they came upon breaks in the
thicket, where for maybe several hundred feet they could walk erect. In
one of these breaks, where two Digger pines grew, they made camp for
their first night in the chaparral.
They were in the thicket another day and night and until noon of the
next day. They had come upon deep cañons, where the chaparral broke
and scrub oak grew. Here they found moisture, enough to replenish the
water-bags, the contents of which they had been nursing carefully. But
always the chaparral reached out to meet them when they had crossed one
of these earth scars, and before long they were crawling again.
Toward noon of the third day they found themselves crawling over level
land, where the ragged growth was sparse. Both were nearly spent, when
of a sudden the land began descending rapidly. And almost before they
were aware of it they were gazing down spellbound into an abyss which
could be nothing else than the long-sought Valley of Arcana.
It was freakish. Neither had ever seen its like before. Thinking
themselves in the midst of a waste of chaparral and far from their
goal, the land suddenly had dropped to a shelf a thousand feet below
them. Charmian said that, if she had had her eyes shut, she probably
would have crawled right over the precipice and pitched to her death on
the rocks below.
It was a miniature Grand Cañon of the Colorado, with surrounding walls
as steep and perilous. The break was as abrupt and stupefying as the
far-famed Pali of the Island of Oahu.
Far below them flashed a river, jade-green, a winding snake. Trees
followed its course, and beyond were delectable meadows, half green,
half brown in tinge. The spreading trees--probably live oaks--looked
miniature, like buckthorn bushes; the lofty pines like toothpicks. Over
crags below them eagles soared. Not a sound came; a vast, solemn hush
hung over the smiling valley. In the far distance, perhaps seven or
eight miles away, the saw-tooth tops of the craggy peaks that guarded
the southern limit of the Valley of Arcana were dimly traced against
the skim-milk blue of the sky. Below the peaks lay an enchanted lake,
blue and sparkling, swimming miragelike in the sunlight.
For minutes neither of the trespassers spoke. Shonto stepped close
to Charmian and took her hand, and side by side they gazed upon
the wonders spread before them. They were awed by the grandeur and
solemnity of this masterpiece of Nature, a little lonely, a little
timid.
They had accomplished much. Probably never before in the annals of
exploration had any one been forced to blaze a trail into an unknown
country crawling on all fours. They were painfully weary and sore from
the unaccustomed strain; their provisions were low, and but several
mouthfuls of water remained in the canvas bags. But they had found
the Valley of Arcana, and its myriad delights rewarded them for the
torture they had undergone.
It was Charmian Reemy who broke the silence. “I think,” she said, “that
Ranger Reed was nearer to the Valley of Arcana than he knew when he
turned back, discouraged. In an hour, Doctor, _we_ might have turned
back, too, with our grub and water so low.”
They seated themselves on stones to discuss the situation.
It would be absolutely necessary for them to find a route down into
the valley to replenish the water-bags. Also, they must have more
food. They had lived principally on jerked venison for that day and
the day before, conserving the other supplies, and had nibbled the
strong nutritious chocolate from the army emergency rations which
they carried. They had not dared to make coffee because they could
not spare the water. The only firearm that they had brought along was
the doctor’s .22 rifle, because of its lightness. Shonto was a crack
shot with the little weapon, and Charmian was obliged to shelve her
repugnance for the slaughter of the innocents and give him permission
to kill jackrabbits or any other small game that they might see.
These things decided, they nibbled a cake of chocolate each and
divided the remaining “jerky” between them. They drank the last of
the water. Then they set off along the lip of the precipice in search
of a possible way to get down into the valley. After a mile or more
of winding in and out among the outcroppings, boulders, and tentacles
of chaparral that extended from the main thicket to the edge of the
declivity they were seriously wondering whether it was possible to
reach the floor of the valley at all. For the wall below them was,
figuratively speaking, as perpendicular as the side of a skyscraper.
They discovered several false breaks that promised to open upon routes
leading downward, but each time they were halted by a yawning precipice
as steep as any yet encountered.
A few oak trees grew close to the lip of the gorge, some of them on
the very edge and slanting over the abyss as if straining to gaze down
upon the mysteries below. Under one of these, as they walked around a
point of chaparral, they came face to face with a big brown bear. He
was an industrious bear and had not seen them nor smelled them, as the
slight breeze that was astir was blowing in their faces. His majesty
was sitting on his haunches, profile toward the surprised adventurers,
with both paws to his mouth and with huge jaws working. As they came
to a stop he lowered his body to all fours as lightly as a squirrel,
for all his several hundred pounds of weight, picked up an acorn with
one paw, and broke the shell of it with the butt of the other paw. He
carried the kernel to his mouth and chonked with satisfaction. He sat
erect again, saw the intruders, lowered both paws droopingly in abject
surprise, and, with a startled _Wuff_, wheeled and went lumbering off
at astonishing speed.
At the end of about fifteen shuffling leaps he swung abruptly toward
the precipice and disappeared between an overhanging oak and an
upstanding rock.
But for him, then, Charmian and Dr. Shonto would have walked directly
past what seemed to be an animal-made trail that zigzagged down into
the Valley of Arcana, the gateway of which was the monumentlike stone
and the twisted black oak. They halted in the pass and heard the
rattling of stones below and the scraping footsteps of the fleeing
bear. A trail, narrow but plainly outlined, descended along the side
of a portion of the precipice less steep than heretofore. The brush
that grew over it here and there had been scraped of its bark in
many places, and the smooth wood showing through had been polished
by contact with the hair of various animals that had ascended and
descended the trail for unreckoned years. The stones protruding from
the earth were claw-scratched and eroded.
“I christen thee Bear Pass,” saluted Charmian. “Can we go where that
bear can, Doctor?”
“He may be bound for a den in the side of the precipice,” suggested
Shonto. “The trail may lead only to that. But it’s worth a trial,
provided--”
“Well?”
“It’s narrow,” finished the physician. “I wouldn’t care to meet that
bear down there, and find it necessary to argue the right of way with
him with this .22.”
“We won’t argue,” said Charmian. “It isn’t polite. We’ll excuse
ourselves and go back. It’s his trail, anyway. Let’s try it. But I wish
I hadn’t crowed so loudly when I outcrawled you in the chaparral. I
feel sick and dizzy every time I look over the edge. And on a narrow
trail, with that chasm grinning up at me--_whew_! Don’t you remember
the iron rail at the edge of the great boulder overlooking the forest
at El Trono de Tolerancia? I had to have it there. I never dared to
stand and look without the feel of that iron pipe in my hands.”
“Don’t let that worry you,” he cheered her. “Try to make it. Don’t
think of the chasm. Don’t look at it. Keep your eyes on the trail. But
if you get dizzy and nauseated let me know. I’ll fix you up. Don’t want
to do it, though, unless it becomes necessary. But, being a doctor,
I realize what a terrible sensation it is for one who suffers that
way. It’s dangerous, too. I never feel it myself. I would have made a
wonderful mechanic at erecting the framework of skyscrapers.”
He smiled at her encouragingly. “I’ll go ahead,” he said. “Keep close
to me and think of something pleasant.”
With a brave but wan little smile she fell in behind him, and he
started along the descending shelf that followed the wall of the cavern.
It was dangerously narrow, a ticklish piece of business to follow it.
Above them rose a craggy wall, growing in height as they progressed
slowly downward. Occasionally the trail grew wider, but this usually
occurred above a slope that was less precipitous. They wound in and out
as the trail rounded gashes that extended from the lip above to the
valley’s floor.
“I’ll tell you what,” said Shonto, stopping suddenly and facing her:
“This is not a natural trail, by any means. Though it’s ages old, there
are evidences left of the work of man. This shelf has been hacked
in the cañon wall by somebody. It’s preposterous to believe that
animals--even wild goats or bighorn sheep--could have climbed up and
down along this wall and eventually worn a level trail. They can go
almost where a fly can, but they never could have struggled along this
wall in its natural state.”
“But who could have built it?” asked Charmian.
“I’m only too eager to find out,” returned the doctor. “We may discover
something mighty valuable down there on the floor. And I’m convinced
that the trail extends entirely down. I’ve seen deer tracks. I don’t
believe deer would travel this trail, where there is not a blade for
them to nibble, unless they were bound for the grass and the water down
below. I’ve noticed ’coon tracks and skunk tracks and coyote tracks,
too--but no sign of a man track. Yet men built this trail--hacked it in
the side of this stone wall. I’ll show you the next time I see a place
where this is evident.”
They went on, Charmian’s face white, her upper teeth grasping her lower
lip. She felt faint and vertiginous. Her knees shook. But she marched
on bravely, hugging the upstanding wall on her left.
They came to a portion of the descent where the trail was little more
than eighteen inches in width. Above them an absolutely perpendicular
wall upreared itself. Below them yawned the abyss, at its very feet
the green river, which swung in to the wall in a great bend from the
meadows. To follow that eighteen-inch shelf would be like walking along
the eaves trough of a house.
Charmian came to a halt. “Oh, I can’t! I can’t!” she moaned piteously.
“I can’t go on another step, Doctor! Don’t ask me to! I’m--oh, I’m ill!
I’m--I’m--”
His long arms closed about her, and she dropped her head on his breast,
sobbing nervously, shaking like an aspen.
“There-there-there!” he soothed. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix you up. Lie
down, now, and look up. That’ll give you courage and relieve you. I’ll
fix you up so you can walk a tight rope and laugh.”
He eased her to the ground and made her lie on her back. Her pretty
face was dirty, and the tears had wriggled down her cheeks and washed
elongated hieroglyphics in the grime. She gulped and licked her lips
and looked up bravely into the heavens.
“There! There!” Shonto had removed his pack and was fumbling within
for his medicine case. “Fix you up in a minute. Then you’ll feel like
climbing telegraph poles.”
He was bending over her now. He took hold of one arm and pushed up
the sleeve. She felt him squeezing the flesh. Then came a little stab
of pain, and she rolled her eyes to see the glitter of a hypodermic
syringe in his strong fingers.
“Wh-what did you do to me?”
“Hush! Never mind. Lie still a little and you’ll feel dandy. Just a
shot of cocaine. Feel it yet?”
“Ye-yes, I believe I do. I seem to be floating--floating; I’m getting
light as a feather. My stars! I was never so happy in my life! I want
to get up.”
“Of course you do,” chuckled Shonto. “Not only that, but you want to
tell the world, when you get up, that you’re equal to about anything,
don’t you?”
“Yes, I want to flap my wings and crow, even if I am a hen. I don’t
care for anything. I’m a whizgimp. Mary Temple says that a whizgimp is
a person who is happy, even though he knows one more hot day will send
him to the bug house.”
She sat up suddenly and unexpectedly, turned to her knees, and in
springing lightly to her feet with a glad little laugh, her foot struck
the medicine case.
With a muttered oath the doctor sprawled in the trail and grasped at
it. His frantic fingers touched it, but the contact served only to push
it over the edge, and it went rattling and bounding down the cliff into
the green waters of the river.
“Come on!” Charmian giggled. “Let it go! What’s the difference! Lead
out--I’m crazy to get down into the Valley of Arcana! And I can run
along that narrow shelf and laugh while I’m about it!”