CHAPTER XXIV MECCA
"Oh, God! that this was ended; that this our toil was past!
Our cattle die untended; our lea-lands wither fast;
Our bread is lacking leaven; our life is lacking friends,
And short's our prayer to Heaven for all that Heaven sends."
—From God's Poor.
The cold tang of the dawn was already in the air and the smell of the earth was keen in our nostrils, when Moleskin and I breasted the steep shoulder of a hill together, and saw the outer line of derricks standing gaunt and motionless against the bald cliffs of Kinlochleven. From the crest of the rise we could see the lilac gray vesture of the twilight unfold itself from off the naked peaks that stood out boldly in the ghostly air like carved gargoyles of some mammoth sculpture. A sense of strange remoteness troubled the mind, and in the half-light the far distances seemed vague and unearthly, and we felt like two atoms frozen into a sea of silence amidst the splendour of complete isolation. A long way off a line of hills stood up, high as the winds, and over their storm-scarred ribs we saw or fancied we saw the milky white torrents falling. We could not hear the sound of falling waters; the white frothy torrents were the ghosts of streams.
The mood or spell was one of a moment. A derrick near at hand clawed out with a lean arm, and lifted a bucket of red muck into the air, then turned noisily on its pivot, and was relieved of its burden. The sun burst out suddenly like an opening rose, and the garments of the day were thrown across the world. One rude cabin sent up a gray spiral of smoke into the air, then another and another. We sat on a rock, lit our pipes, and gazed on the Mecca of our hopes.
A sleepy hollow lay below; and within it a muddle of shacks, roofed with tarred canvas, and built of driven piles, were huddled together in bewildering confusion. These were surrounded by puddles, heaps of disused wood, tins, bottles, and all manner of discarded rubbish. Some of the shacks had windows, most of them had none; some had doors facing north, some south; everything was in a most haphazard condition, and it looked as if the buildings had dropped out of the sky by accident, and were just allowed to remain where they had fallen. The time was now five o'clock in the morning; the night-shift men were still at work and the pounding of hammers and grating noises of drills could be heard distinctly. The day-shift men, already out of bed, were busily engaged preparing breakfast, and we could see them hopping half-naked around the cabins, carrying pans and smoking tins in their hands, and roaring at one another as if all were in a bad temper.
"I'm goin' to nose around and look for a pair of understandin's," said Joe, as he rose to his feet and sauntered away. "You wait here until I come back."