Explorers of the New Century

by Magnus Mills

  “They suit me well enough,” replied Guthrum. “How does your one star suit you?”

  “It’s all right.”

  “Get any sleep?”

  “Four hours.”

  “Plenty enough for you.”

  “Plenty enough for anyone.”

  “Maybe so,” said Guthrum. “But six hours is what’s allowed, so if any of the other men wish to have a ‘lie-in’ they’re fully entided to it.” He gestured towards the cooking area. “I see you’ve been busy. What’s for breakfast?”

  “Same as yesterday.”

  “And just as delicious, I hope?”

  “Naturally.”

  “Morning already?” said Tostig, poking his head out of a second tent. The sound of his voice quickly brought Thegn and Thorsson to their doors too, and within moments everyone had risen.

  Straight after breakfast Snaebjorn began preparing the mules for the day’s journey, first roping them together in a line, and then loading them up, one by one. He was checking the inventory when Thegn came over and offered to assist. Snaebjorn politely refused, saying it was probably simpler for him to do it himself. Thegn persisted, however, and was finally allowed to help with the ‘tying off’ of each completed load.

  “I suppose you’ll need to learn this sooner or later,” Snaebjorn conceded. “So hold the mule steady and watch while I show you. This section of rope in my left hand is called the standing part.”

  “Standing part,” repeated Thegn. “Right.”

  “Now you take the other section, make a loop, pass it round the standing part and twist, like so. Then you pull the loose end through until you have the correct tension, and tie it off. See?”

  After a second demonstration Thegn said he thought he’d got the hang of it and attempted to tie a load himself. Snaebjorn said the result was passable but he’d prefer to re-tie it, if Thegn didn’t object. When they moved on to the next mule Snaebjorn did the tying off. And again with the one after that. In the meantime, Thegn stood watching in silence. Eventually the last mule was given its load, at which point Tostig wandered over.

  “I see you’ve found yourself a helpmeet,” he remarked.

  “I didn’t find him,” Snaebjorn answered. “He found me.”

  “I’ve been learning the ropes,” said Thegn. “It’s been most interesting.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “And it reminded me of a question I’ve been meaning to ask.”

  “Which is?”

  “Well, I was wondering if these mules have any idea what’s in store for them.”

  “Of course not,” said Tostig. “Why should they have?”

  “It’s just that they seem very quiet.”

  “That’s a good sign, not a bad one. You don’t want excitable mules on a journey like ours.”

  “But look how reluctant they were to come into this gorge. If it hadn’t been for Snaebjorn’s superb handling, we’d practically have had to drag them along. It struck me that they might create problems for us later. When they begin to realise.”

  “They won’t give us any problems,” said Tostig. “I’ve been dealing with mules for a good few years now and I can assure you they have no comprehension beyond the daily round of work, food and rest. They’ve no inkling whatsoever of our destination. All that business at the beginning of the gorge was merely the shadows making them jumpy. Everyone knows they don’t like the dark. Look at them now they’ve got used to it: they’re as placid as anything. Don’t worry, Thegn. So long as we don’t overburden them, they’ll be fine.”

  “Oh well, I bow to your better judgment,” Thegn replied. “I hope you don’t mind my raising the subject?”

  “Of course not. It’s always better to speak out if you have any doubts. Now I’m quite pleased that you and Snaebjorn have managed to team up so effectively because I want the pair of you to lead the way this morning. Guthrum and I checked the ground ahead briefly last night and it looks reasonable, so whenever you’re ready.”

  “We’re ready now,” said Snaebjorn.

  “All fed?”

  “Yes.”

  “All packed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Excellent,” said Tostig. “I really don’t know what we’d do without you, Snaebjorn.”

  A short while later the party moved off, keeping in strict single file. Snaebjorn was at the fore. Carrying a weighty pack on his shoulders, he now took the role of pathfinder, with Thegn and the mule train following close behind. Next came Thorsson, then Tostig and finally Guthrum in the rear. The gorge continued to deepen, and as it did the light became yet more dim. The dry walls towered above them on either side, occasionally letting fall a shower of broken rock flakes, but for the most part appearing quite substantial. From time to time, Thorsson would stop and record their supposed position in his logbook. (The land being untried and therefore uncharted, his conclusions were based mainly on guesswork. Even so, they had enabled him and Tostig to begin work on a basic map whose details they augmented each evening as the expedition progressed.) While Thorsson made his notes, the two men behind him paused to take stock of their situation. Sometimes a brief exchange would ensue if a question arose concerning some difficult terrain, or the timing of the next rest break, but generally each would remain silent with his own thoughts as he waited to resume again, the only sound being the echoed jingling of bells from somewhere ahead. No sooner had Thorsson put his book away than the three of them would be off again, always maintaining single file, and gradually catching up with the mules.

  §

  “Did you notice yesterday?” said Tostig. “When we were looking across at Johns and his companions. Did you notice the very blueness of the scree?”

  “Actually I did,” replied Guthrum.

  “And you assumed it was a trick of the light?”

  “Yes.”

  “So did I,” Tostig concurred. “That was why I didn’t mention it at the time. But now I’m beginning to think it’s indigenous to this land we’re in. Several times today I’ve seen the same blueish colour occurring in the rock strata. Most extraordinary.”

  It was evening, and the two of them had again embarked on a brief stroll forward of the encampment. Now they stood dwarfed below soaring heights, while night advanced slowly upon them.

  “Maybe we could collect a few geological samples on our return journey,” suggested Guthrum.

  “Yes, that’s what I have in mind,” said Tostig. “Obviously we must not be distracted from our main purpose by the prospect of undiscovered minerals and so forth. On the other hand, a small rock or two shouldn’t add much to our burden.”

  “Not if they’re packed correctly.”

  “We’ll get Snaebjorn to do it; he’s the expert. Oh, by the way, I happened to overhear your conversation with him this morning. He mentioned the two stars on your cap.”

  “He did, yes.”

  “Tell me something. Does Snaebjorn have pretensions of leadership?”

  “Not as far as I know.”

  “Then why the reference?”

  “It’s simply that he and I go back a long way,” said Guthrum. “We were engaged in a form of light-hearted rivalry and no more.”

  “I see.”

  “Snaebjorn meant nothing by it, I assure you.”

  “Good.” A few moments passed while Tostig stood silent amidst the encroaching gloom. Then, in a brighter tone, he turned and spoke again. “Guthrum,” he said. “You remain my trusted Number Two.”

  “Thank you, sir,” came the reply.

  Almost immediately they were hailed by a third voice, coming from some distance behind them. “I’m afraid I can’t see you!”

  “Just here!” called Guthrum.

  “Ah, thank you!” returned the voice, and a minute later Thegn emerged from the darkness.

  “Something wrong?” asked Tostig.

  “Oh, no,” said Thegn. “Sorry if I alarmed you, but all the tents are up, supper’s on, and there was nothing left to d
o; so I took the liberty of wandering along to find the ‘forward party’.”

  Guthrum cast a quick glance at Tostig, then proceeded to gaze solemnly at the ground. Meanwhile, a faint smile crossed Tostig’s face.

  “Well, you’ve found us,” he said. “And we’re just on our way back.”

  “How did the reconnaissance go?” Thegn enquired.

  “Very interestingly.”

  “Is…”

  Thegn was forced to break off because without a word his two commanders suddenly stalked off in the direction he’d just come. He followed in their wake, peering now and again at his dim surroundings, but asking no further questions.

  When they reached camp they came across Thorsson, hard at work updating the rudimentary map. A large sheet of paper had been unfolded and spread out on the ground, with a lamp placed close by, and Thorsson was kneeling over it. In a case beside him lay a number of pens, each of a different ink, which he was using to add more detail, shading in the latest section of the gorge and writing its estimated dimensions. Also shown were the lower reaches of the dry river bed, the coastal area around the blockhouse, and the region of scree to their west. The greater part of the map was blank, except for a point in the far corner where a bold X had been marked, along with the letters AFP.

  “Ah, Thorsson,” said Tostig. “Looks as if you’ll be on your knees for many hours yet.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Thorsson replied.

  Just outside the circle of light stood Snaebjorn. He gazed down in silence, regarding Thorsson as he carefully transferred measurements from his logbook on to the map. Meanwhile, Thegn walked round and crouched down by the far corner.

  “Is this the Agreed Furthest Point?” he asked, indicating the bold figure X.

  “Correct,” said Tostig.

  “We’ve still got a long way to go then.”

  “Oh yes,” was the answer. “An awfully long way.”

  They all watched while Thorsson completed the day’s observations; then Snaebjorn announced that supper was ready. This was enjoyed by each individual alone in his tent, after which the lamps were extinguished. A stir of bells at the foot of the rock wall signified the spot where the untethered mules had settled down for the night. It was starting to get cold and they’d gathered close together for the long wait until dawn.

  Next morning Thegn made a point of being first up, even before Snaebjorn.

  “Glad I’ve caught you,” he said quietly, as the latter emerged from his tent. “I was wondering if I could give you a hand with the mules today?”

  “You can if you want,” Snaebjorn replied.

  “In particular I’d like to go over the ropes again, to make sure I’ve got to grips with that adjustable knot you showed me.”

  “I’ve already given you several demonstrations. Weren’t they enough?”

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “Well, you’ll have to wait until I’ve taken my tent down.” Snaebjorn glanced at his wristwatch and then began work, reducing his tent to a neatly rolled pack in four and a half minutes.

  “Marvellous,” remarked Thegn. He tagged along as Snaebjorn fed the mules, prepared the men’s breakfast, and carried out a host of related duties. Only when these were complete was it time to begin loading.

  “Now you know this is the standing part, don’t you?” enquired Snaebjorn, holding a section of rope in his hand.

  “Yes, got that,” said Thegn.

  “Right. Now you take the other part, make a loop, pass it round and twist. Then you pull the loose end through and tie it off. Simple.”

  By this time other members of the expedition were up and about, and while the two were thus engaged Thorsson happened to pass by on business of his own. After he’d gone Thegn said, “That’s a fascinating map they’re drawing, isn’t it?”

  “Not a bad job at all,” agreed Snaebjorn.

  “Thorsson seems confident he’s pinpointed our exact position.”

  “He’s pretty close, yes.”

  Thegn stopped what he was doing and glanced at Snaebjorn. “How do you mean?”

  “I mean that I’ve cross-checked his calculations and found them to be more or less correct.”

  “So are you telling me you understand navigation as well?”

  “Of course.”

  “Marvellous,” Thegn uttered again. “Navigation, ropemanship, camp cuisine, mastery of the mules. You really are quite a polymath.”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Snaebjorn. “As far as I’m concerned these skills are mere prerequisites for the journey we’ve undertaken. A man would be a fool not to learn them.”

  “So he can be first to plant the flag?” asked Thegn.

  “If that is his primary aim, yes.”

  “Then I’d better start practising.”

  “Thegn!” called Guthrum from the middle of the gorge. “Have you breakfasted?”

  “Yes, thank you!”

  “Well, don’t forget you haven’t taken your tent down yet!”

  “I’m just helping load the mules!”

  “It’s all right,” said Snaebjorn. “I’ll finish here. You’d better go and get packed or they’ll very likely leave you behind.”

  “They wouldn’t do that, would they?” queried Thegn.

  “They might, but even if they did you needn’t worry: we’re leaving a clear trail of prints and you’d soon find us.”

  In the event, Thegn was not left behind when they got moving again half an hour later. The day’s journey had a marked beginning. Dawn had been cloudy, but just at the moment of departure a few rays of sunlight appeared, bathing the upper walls of the gorge in an acute glow. As the travellers peered up from the murky depths, they could clearly see a thin strata of blue rock compressed between the other layers. Then the rays weakened and the gorge was again cast into shadow. By this stage the diffused light had begun hindering progress considerably. Several times during the morning Tostig called a halt to discuss the matter with Guthrum. They were both in agreement that although the use of lamps was preferable, the relative scarcity of fuel made these items a luxury which should be reserved for camp life only. Therefore they had no alternative but to manage by any means they could. Fortunately, the senior members of the team were well practised in adjusting to difficult circumstances, quickly learning to ‘cheat’ the twilight as they found their way along the gorge: sometimes by squinting through half-closed eyes; sometimes by listening for echoes; and sometimes by adopting the instinctive course chosen by the mules themselves. In the latter case, Snaebjorn would pause and allow the leading mules to pass him by before following them close at hand, carefully observing their step whilst murmuring quiet encouragement in the gloom. The whole party had by now dropped into the natural rhythm of the mules, moving at a pace which was cautious and unhurried, but which continued relentlessly forth. In this manner another two days and nights passed with only minor obstructions impeding their route. On the third such day, however, around about noon and therefore during the least dull period, the column was brought to a full stop. Snaebjorn had gone ahead to reconnoitre and, finding his path barred by an immense angle of rock, had tried moving round to its left. Here a second monolith lay lodged against the first. A fissure at the right-hand side showed where the rock had peeled away from the gorge. It also provided a passage into which Snaebjorn immediately ventured. But again he was pulled up, this time almost striking his head on a fallen block lying flat across the others. Small bells could now be heard approaching. Returning to meet Thegn, Snaebjorn bade him halt the mules while he sought a third way to the extreme left, but there was none suitable. When Tostig arrived with the remainder of the party, it was decided that he and Guthrum would investigate the area beyond the fissure while the others took a break. Thorsson suggested they carried a lamp with them, but Tostig again insisted they worked only with what restricted light there was. Ducking the Lintel Rock, as it came to be known, they entered the fissure, emerging eventually to discover further cong
eries of toppled giants: great unhewn chunks reclining in all directions and creating a maze of cul-de-sacs, false leads and ill-defined portals. Several times they selected what seemed a possible route forward, only for their path to peter out after a short distance, or else turn back on itself. Then they tried searching further to their right where, for the first time since they’d left the coast, they were confronted by a breeze. It was harsh and chill, pushing and prodding between the collapsed rocks, and bringing with it an unmistakable sound. Somewhere to the east a ponderous mass of water was roaring: plunging, so it seemed, into an immeasurable deep.

  ∨ Explorers of the New Century ∧

  Three

  “You asked to see me, Mr Johns?”

  “Ah, Summerfield, yes. Do come in out of the cold.”

  “Thank you.”

  It was late evening. Hitherto, Summerfield had only put his head inside Johns’ tent, but now he entered fully and closed the flaps behind him. In the dimly lit interior there was little room to spare. A large part of the floor was covered in bedding, already laid out for the night. Other spaces were crammed with equipment and baggage. Johns was sitting at the camp table with his pens and journal before him. The light from a suspended lamp showed that he had removed his woolly helmet. Now Summerfield did the same, before glancing around him.