“I’m confident that this scree will continue to run downhill from now on,” Johns surmised. “Then we can look forward to it levelling out into a plain.”
“Our rate of progress has started to improve already,” said Scagg.
“Yes, indeed it has,” said Johns. “And with it the men’s spirits. The only exception is Plover. I’m rather concerned; we’ve hardly heard a peep from him all morning. Why do you think that is, Scagg?”
“He probably doesn’t like being squashed in a tent with three others.”
“Can’t be helped on a journey like this. It’s all for one and one for all.”
“I don’t think Plover sees it like that, Mr Johns.”
“You mean he’s a snob?”
“I wouldn’t like to say, sir.”
“So he is a snob then. Well, I must admit I’ve noticed he isn’t much of a mixer. Never seems to want to join in with the spirit of things. And he still insists on wearing that high-peaked cap of his all the time. By the way, did you get the chance to have a word with him about that?”
“Not yet, no. Sorry.”
“Because the last thing we need is Plover frozen stiff on account of…”
Johns broke off as Plover suddenly appeared to their left, carrying a steaming mug in his hand. When he saw them looking at him he paused and nodded, but did not approach.
“Ah, hot drinks,” said Johns, rising to his feet. With a nod towards Plover, he strode off in the direction of the field kitchen. Scagg, meanwhile, stood up and straightened his surcoat. Then he wandered over to Plover.
“Expect your ears are smarting, aren’t they?” he said.
“Not particularly,” Plover replied. “Are yours?”
“No, they’re not,” said Scagg. “But I’m surprised yours aren’t. Very surprised.”
After Scagg had left him, Plover remained where he was for several minutes. He gazed into the distance whilst finishing his drink, then returned his empty mug to Seddon. Next he located his pack and unfastened the straps. Delving inside, he found a woolly helmet, which he immediately substituted for his high-peaked cap.
§
“Sorry I can’t offer anyone a piece of chocolate,” said Medleycott. “I’m afraid Cook walked off with the whole bar.”
“Actually I think I’ve got some hidden somewhere,” answered Summerfield. “I’ll have a look for it later.”
It was the evening of the same day, and bedding was being laid out for the night. The three tents had been erected in a kind of half-circle, their entrances adjacent to one another, with Johns’s tent at the centre, facing due south. His neighbours to the east were Medleycott, Summerfield, Sargent and Plover, though for the moment Plover was absent.
“He said he was going for a look around outside,” Medleycott informed his companions.
“Well I hope he comes back soon,” said Sargent. “I want to get some sleep.”
“Why don’t you take the berth at the far end?” suggested Summerfield. “Then you won’t be disturbed by anyone.”
“Because I like being by the door,” Sargent replied.
“I’ll take it then, if nobody minds.”
At that instant the canvas parted and Plover came in. Rather than closing the flaps quickly behind him, however, he paused in the opening to remove his boots, so that a rush of cold air flooded into the tent. As the lamp flickered, Medleycott and Sargent glanced at each other but said nothing. Plover, in his turn, spoke to nobody. Meanwhile, Summerfield stretched out on his utility blanket. He was still wearing his reefer jacket, and after a few seconds he sat up again. Reaching into his inside pocket, he produced the textbook Johns had lent him some days earlier. It had a plain grey cover with bold black lettering:
The Theory of Transportation
by
E.E. Childish
Holding the book towards the lamplight, Summerfield began reading.
Four
“Thegn, I’m looking for a volunteer,” said Tostig. “I need someone to take a line and try and find a way across this maelstrom. It won’t be easy; the task requires both daring and judgment; one slip could mean certain death. I thought I’d give you first refusal.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Obviously, Snaebjorn would do it at the drop of a hat, but the truth is he’s far too valuable to the expedition. We simply couldn’t afford to risk losing him, so if I could send you instead it would be a great help.”
“Well, yes, I’d definitely like to have a go at it, if you think I’m capable.”
They were standing at the edge of a deep chasm. Below them poured the huge volume of water they had heard as they approached: Strewn with immense boulders, it seethed and roared before tumbling over precipitous falls into a vast unseen cauldron.
“What calamity could have struck this land?!” demanded Tostig. “What violent upheaval to drive a river completely off its course?! It is unbelievable! Never have I known such geological chaos. I brought you here so you could witness it for yourself prior to making a decision.”
“That’s much appreciated.”
They stepped back as the rocky shelf they stood on was dashed with flying spray.
Then Tostig continued.
“To put it bluntly, Thegn, this could spell disaster for us. It has actually placed us in a worse boat than Johns. Oh, I know it must be hard-going on that scree, but at least he has an open road ahead of him. Our path, by contrast, is beset with pitfalls of every kind. If we can’t find a way forward we’ll be beaten, and our mission will fail. I presume you wouldn’t want that to happen?”
“No, of course not,” said Thegn.
“Then our next move depends on you.”
Another dash of spray rose up and fell again. Treading carefully, Thegn went to the edge of the rocks and looked down at the furious torrent.
“I suppose it would require a light line,” he offered at length.
“A lifeline?” said Tostig. “What do you mean by that?”
“No, no, a light line,” Thegn repeated. “So that I can venture further. I could use it to pull a heavier rope across. People who build bridges employ a similar method, so I believe. Once the first rope is anchored, it’s quite easy to add a second, then a third, and so on.”
“Thegn, I don’t want a bridge,” said Tostig. “I simply want you on the other side of this river. Guthrum is in charge of all ropes, so if you’ve got a preference you’d better speak to him about it. Now have you seen enough?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Well, let’s get into some shelter. Come on.”
Tostig turned and led the way back towards the Lintel Rock, where their companions were tending to the mules. After a consultation with Guthrum, it was decided that Thegn’s crossing would be attempted the following noon, and in the meantime they would make camp.
“Here is a fine opportunity to replenish our water supplies,” announced Tostig. “In fact, it might be our last chance for quite a while. Can you see to it, Snaebjorn?”
“I’ll begin right away.”
“Let me help,” said Thegn, rising to his feet.
“No, you take a rest,” Tostig countered. “Thorsson can assist Snaebjorn. You’ll need all your strength for tomorrow’s ordeal. And incidentally, if you have any valuables in your possession I suggest you leave them with Guthrum or myself for safekeeping.”