“It was my only chance to save the oxen and the other load,” said Jack, rising to feet. “Better save half a loaf than to lose it all, you know. Simply couldn’t turn it into the rocks.”
“But I don’t see how you could think of it. I was scart, I ain’t ashamed to own. I’ll bet that other is smashed into kindling wood.”
Jack was already looking over the precipice after the lost wagon, saying in a minute or so:
“It has come out better than I should have expected, though it will do us no further good. It has lodged among some trees and rocks, and I do not believe a wheel has been broken.”
“That’s so, Jack, though I reckon it don’t make any difference to us. But if ’em rocks don’t start to grow it’s ’cause the nitrate ain’t any good, for the stuff is sowed all over the Andes.”
“It is pretty well scattered, that is a fact. But come, boys, we must hitch on the other oxen, and see if the double team can pull this load to the top.”
Though the loss of one of his wagons and a portion of his nitrate, which had cost him so much to get so far, was felt keenly by Jack, he showed his indomitable will by immediately giving his attention toward carrying out the work of crossing the ridge.
The remaining load proved an easy burden for the united teams, and in a few minutes the heavy wagon was moving slowly up the path, the loud commands of the Peruvian drivers echoing up and down the valley with somewhat startling effect.
“As soon as we get to the summit,” said Jack to Plum, “you and I will go back and see if there is not some way to save the other wagon, even at the sacrifice of its load.”
“I s’pose we might throw off what nitrate there is left on it, and by hitching together all the chains and ropes we have--”