The Killer
Page 26
CHAPTER II
THE FIRST CLIMB
Fisher, Frank, and I had been hunting for elk in the dense forests alongthe foot of one of these mountains; and for a half day, drenched withsweat, had toiled continuously up and down steep slopes, trying to goquietly, trying to keep our wind, trying to pierce the secrets of theleafy screen always about us. We were tired of it.
"Let's go to the top and look for goats," suggested Frank. "There aresome goat cliffs on the other side of her. It isn't very far."
It was not very far, as measured by the main ranges, but it was a twohours' steady climb nearly straight up. We would toil doggedly for ahundred feet, or until our wind gave out and our hearts began to pounddistressingly; then we would rest a moment. After doing this a fewhundred times we would venture a look upward, confidently expecting thesummit to be close at hand. It seemed as far as ever. We suffered adozen or so of these disappointments, and then learned not to look up.This was only after we had risen above timber line to the smooth,rounded rock-and-grass shoulder of the mountain. Then three times wemade what we thought was a last spurt, only to find ourselves on a"false summit." After a while we grew resigned, we realized that we werenever going to get anywhere, but were to go on forever, withoutultimate purpose and without hope, pushing with tired legs, gasping withinadequate lungs. When we had fully made up our minds to that, wearrived. This is typical of all high-mountain climbing--the dogged,hard, hopeless work that can never reach an accomplishment; and then atlast the sudden, unexpected culmination.
We topped a gently rounding summit; took several deep breaths into theuttermost cells of our distressed lungs; walked forward a dozensteps--and found ourselves looking over the sheer brink of a precipice.So startlingly unforeseen was the swoop into blue space that I recoiledhastily, feeling a little dizzy. Then I recovered and stepped forwardcautiously for another look. As with all sheer precipices, the lip onwhich we stood seemed slightly to overhang, so that in order to see onehad apparently to crane away over, quite off balance. Only by thestrongest effort of the will is one able to rid oneself of the notionthat the centre of gravity is about to plunge one off head first intoblue space. For it was fairly blue space below our precipice. We couldsee birds wheeling below us; and then below them again, very tiny, thefall away of talus, and the tops of trees in the basin below. Andopposite, and all around, even down over the horizon, were othermajestic peaks, peers of our own, naked and rugged. From camp the greatforests had seemed to us the most important, most dominant, mostpervading feature of the wilderness. Now in the high sisterhood of thepeaks we saw they were as mantles that had been dropped about the feet.
Across the face of the cliff below us ran irregular tiny ledges;buttresses ended in narrow peaks; "chimneys" ran down irregularly to thetalus. Here were supposed to dwell the goats.
We proceeded along the crest, spying eagerly. We saw tracks; but noanimals. By now it was four o'clock, and past time to turn campward. Westruck down the mountain on a diagonal that should take us home. Forsome distance all went well enough. To be sure, it was very steep, andwe had to pay due attention to balance and sliding. Then a rock wallbarred our way. It was not a very large rock wall. We went below it.After a hundred yards we struck another. By now the first had risenuntil it towered far above us, a sheer, gray cliff behind which the skywas very blue. We skirted the base of the second and lower cliff. It ledus to another; and to still another. Each of these we passed on thetalus beneath it; but with increasing difficulty, owing to the fact thatthe wide ledges were pinching out. At last we found ourselves cut offfrom farther progress. To our right rose tier after tier of greatcliffs, serenely and loftily unconscious of any little insects likeourselves that might be puttering around their feet. Straight ahead theledge ceased to exist. To our left was a hundred-foot drop to the talusthat sloped down to the canon. The canon did not look so very far away,and we desired mightily to reach it. The only alternative to gettingstraight down was to climb back the weary way we had come; and thatmeant all night without food, warm clothing, or shelter on asnow-and-ice mountain.
Therefore, we scouted that hundred-foot drop to our left verycarefully. It seemed hopeless; but at last I found a place where a pointof the talus ran up to a level not much below our own. The onlydifficulty was that between ourselves and that point of talus extended apiece of sheer wall. I slung my rifle over my back, and gave myself to aserious consideration of that wall. Then I began to work out across itsface.
The principle of safe climbing is to maintain always three points ofsuspension: that it to say, one should keep either both footholds andone handhold, or both handholds and one foothold. Failing that, one istaking long chances. With this firmly in mind, I spidered out across thewall, testing every projection and cranny before I trusted any weight toit. One apparently solid projection as big as my head came away at thefirst touch, and went bouncing off into space. Finally I stood, orrather sprawled, almost within arm's length of a tiny scrub pine growingsolidly in a crevice just over the talus. Once there, our troubles wereover; but there seemed no way of crossing. For the moment it actuallylooked as though four feet only would be sufficient to turn us back.
At last, however, I found a toehold half way across. It was a veryslight crevice, and not more than two inches deep. The toe of a bootwould just hold there without slipping. Unfortunately, there were nohandholds above it. After thinking the matter over, however, I made upmy mind to violate, for this occasion only, the rules for climbing. Iinserted the toe, gathered myself, and with one smooth swoop swungmyself across and grabbed that tiny pine!
Fisher now worked his way out and crossed in the same manner. But Frankwas too heavy for such gymnastics. Fisher therefore took a firm grip onthe pine, inserted his toe in the crevice, and hung on with all hisstrength while Frank crossed on his shoulders!