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.