In Quest of Gold; Or, Under the Whanga Falls

by Alfred St. Johnston

"I suppose that is it. But he ought not to hope to find water in such unlikely places."

"I don't know that he does. But I think you are as foolish as he is if you expect to find wisdom of that sort in such unlikely places as Murri's brain. You never will remember mother's one solitary piece of philosophy, 'Learn to expect disappointment.' And now that I have given my elder brother a lecture, which is very charming of me, I'll give Murri some of my water. Come along, old stoopid," he sang out pleasantly to the black.

"You won't do anything of the sort, my young Solomon," said Alec, whose face was bright again. "I shall. I lost my temper like a jackass, and I'll make up for it. You are quite right, most learned brother, so preach away as much as you like."

"I don't like preaching at all, any more than I like listening to sermons, and if you dare say that I preach to you, Arrick, or ever have preached, I'll come and gag you with this piece of soft damper," said George, taking up a stiff piece of the flour and water he was mixing.

Before they resumed their march, Murri pointed out to them the route they would have to follow. He remembered every yard of the road; he was wise enough in that way, although it was years since he had been there. The only way that they could go was along a narrow sort of shelf that formed a natural little path that led from the ravine they were then in, along the wall-like face of cliff, to the top of the next great ridge above them.

After a halt of a couple of hours Alec said that if they did not get on at once he feared they would not reach the pass before sunset. It was only with great difficulty that they managed to get the horses on to the narrow shelf that was their only path out of the ravine. Murri, leading his horse, went first in the line, then came George with Vaulty, and last came Alec, driving Amber before him, and leading the one pack-horse, to which the loss of the two horses had reduced them.

The ascent was very rough and steep, and quickly raised them to a great height above the valley they had rested in. Fortunately, no green thing grew on that rocky ledge to hide the inequalities of their path; it was too stony and too exposed to the terrible heat of the tropical sun for any vegetation to live upon it. Every now and then Murri had to roll some great rock, that blocked the path, into the gulf beneath them, which, striking the crags as it wildly plunged through air, would dash itself in pieces upon the rocks below, the noise of its descent echoing from side to side of the ravine in dull reverberations.

As they mounted higher and higher the path became narrower, and the precipice upon their right hand side became so sheer, that looking over the edge of the rock they stood upon they could see straight down into the valley a thousand feet below them. It was a fortunate thing that the boys' heads were perfectly steady; had they been nervous or giddy they must have fallen from their awful height from simple fright at the depth of air below them. Alec began to blame himself for not having examined the path before he ventured upon leading the horses on to it, for it had now become so narrow that the animals could not have turned round had the path suddenly ended or had they come upon any insuperable object across it. However, it was as well to go on boldly now that they had entered upon it and there was no help for it. He said to himself that he was every bit as thoughtless as their hare-brained guide.

They must have been climbing up this perilous track for nearly an hour, for they had been very cautious and slow in their movements for fear of an accident, when the horse that Murri was leading displaced a smallish stone which, instead of falling over the edge of the precipice and dashing itself a moment or so afterwards—with a noise made soft by the distance—on the rocks so far beneath, rolled down the path with momentarily increasing speed. George saw it coming, and, calling to Alec to look out, sprang into the air to prevent it striking his feet.

The stone passed by him without striking him, but as he retouched the ground the piece of rock on which his feet descended, loosened from the ledge by the sudden spring he had made, became detached from its position, and, quivering for a second, fell silently in a little cloud of dust and crumbling fragments over the edge of the awful chasm. A moment afterwards a dull crash rose from the valley, where it had shattered itself upon the rocks. But Alec did not hear the noise of it, for before the great stone had reached the pointed rocks his ears had been rent and every drop of blood in his body curdled by the piercing, agonising shriek that Geordie uttered as he felt himself falling from the path.