AT THE EDGE OF THE CHASM
HERBERT NARFIELD wrenched at the steering wheel, but the still
intact tyre merely slithered in the dust. Not for one moment did he
lose his head. Switching off the ignition, he applied both brakes.
Even then the car skidded remorselessly towards the sickening
depths.
From where he sat, wide-eyed and motionless, Colin was dully aware
that already the bonnet of the car appeared to cut the edge of the
precipice. Momentarily he expected the front wheels to plunge over
the brink, followed by the rest of the car and the occupants in a
terrific dive of utter annihilation.
But seemingly by a miracle the expected catastrophe did not
materialise. With a tremendous jar, that brought Colin's head in
violent contact with the wind-screen, the car stopped dead.
Tiny Desmond, lying across the back of the front seat, was breathing
heavily. For one thing, he was badly scared; for another, the
brass-rimmed edge of the seat-back had well-nigh winded him.
Colonel Narfield was sitting perfectly quiet at the useless
steering-wheel. His bronzed features were immobile, his jaw sternly
set. Realising that all immediate danger was past, he was covertly
watching Colin out of the corner of his eyes. He was not
disappointed at his investigation. Colin, though he "had the wind
up," gave no sign of being in a state of panic.
McFrazer's, "Ah, weel, will I be for puttin' on the Stepney?" broke
the silence. There was a general exodus from the stranded car--and a
cautious performance, too, since it was quite possible that any
undue vibration might complete a protracted disaster and send the
vehicle crashing into space.
"We'll man-handle her back into a safer position first, I think,"
decided Colonel Narfield. "Another six inches and the front wheel
would have been over. Get out the rope, McFrazer."
The man went to a locker in the rear of the car and pulled out a
coil of three-inch Manilla rope of at least twenty-five fathoms in
length. Next he produced two treble-sheaved cast-iron blocks and a
couple of crowbars.
"This is our ditching gear," explained Herbert Narfield. "I don't
suppose you ever thought to see this kind of repairing kit in a car?
It's most useful out here. Now, then, McFrazer, I think that boulder
will do. We may not want the crowbars."
He pointed to a mass of rock, weighing perhaps a couple of tons,
that had fallen and lodged against the cliff side of the track.
In ten minutes the tackle was rigged, one block being made fast by
means of a strop round the boulder, the other to the chassis of the
car.
"Man the rope," continued the colonel, stooping to remove two or
three large stones. "All ready? Together! Here she comes."
Slowly but surely the "flake" of the tackle came home; still more
slowly did the car retrace its tracks, until it was safely in the
centre of the rough road.
By this time the sun was almost hidden behind the distant mountains.
Already miasmic mists were rising from the valley. No longer were
the dense masses of trees visible. An even pall of white vapour hid
them, presenting the appearance of a vast lake.
"Now, lads, it's outspan--we camp here for the night," announced
Colonel Narfield. "It would be folly to attempt to proceed. Collect
all the wood you can find and pile it up in front of that hollow.
I'll see to the supper, while McFrazer carries on with fitting the
Stepney."
For the next twenty minutes all was activity. They were racing
against time in order to make all snug before darkness set in. From
underneath the seats in the car Herbert Narfield produced a big pile
of blankets and some waterproof sheets. These, with the cushions,
were sufficient to make up three comfortable beds, arranged in a
segment of a circle, so that the sleepers' heads were towards the
wall of rock and their feet towards the fire.
"Why only three?" asked Tiny.
"Because you two are excused duty tonight," explained the colonel.
"McFrazer and I will keep alternate watches. If that fire dies out
there'll be trouble. There are lions about, but they won't face a
blaze. Supper's ready. We'll have to mark time a bit on the water, I
fancy. We don't have it laid on out here, you know."
Nevertheless, it was a jolly repast, eaten in the open and in the
ruddy glare of the enormous fire that cast fantastic shadows upon
the wall of rock.
In the darkness a long-drawn-out roar pierced the darkness, to be
answered by another and yet another. Instinctively McFrazer glanced
up in the direction of his rifle, that lay propped up against a
boulder.
Both Colin and Tiny recognised the sound. Lions were abroad; but
when the lads were camping in the open, it seemed quite a different
proposition from hearing the roar of the king of beasts from the
comfort and security of a moving railway train.
"We may as well have a can of petrol handy," observed the colonel.
"And the petrol-squirt, too," he added, as McFrazer hurried to the
car, which was a good thirty yards from the fire. He knocked the
ashes from his pipe.
"Now," he continued, "you fellows turn in. You must be tired.
There's nothing to worry about except water in the morning."
Colin and Tiny turned in "all standing," wrapping themselves in
blankets and drawing the macintosh sheets over them to keep off the
night dews. From where they lay they saw Colonel Narfield unload his
rifle, deliberately notch the nickel bullets, and replace them in
the magazine.
"Good-night, old fellow," said Tiny.
"Good-night," replied his chum. Then he added, "Do you always speak
the truth?"
"Always," replied Tiny, considerably puzzled. "Why do you ask?"
"Hadn't a chance to mention it before," said Colin, "but do you
remember telling Wynyard that you'd never set eyes on that josser
who didn't relieve us of our cash?"
"I do," declared Desmond firmly.
"Sure?"
"Rather!"
"Well, I'm not," said Colin slowly. "Far from it. I'm fairly
certain--mind you, can't prove it--that the fellow was----"
"Who?" asked Tiny eagerly.
"Van der Wyck," was the startling reply.