Part 28 (1/2)
”Hurting, h.e.l.l!” he said impolitely. ”Of course it is.”
”How did you do it? Was it an accident?”
”I don't look as if I did it just for amus.e.m.e.nt, do I?” he snarled.
”It hasn't improved your temper, my lad,” I said under my breath. Aloud I remarked: ”We're all in much the same boat. Miss Drummond's had a stiff time of it, and I've got all my bruises where you can't see them, but I can a.s.sure you that they hurt all the same.”
At the mention of Moira a shadow pa.s.sed over his face. Frankly I could not quite understand his att.i.tude towards her. At first I was rather of the opinion that he was in love with her, but latterly I hadn't been so sure, for he had had the decency to suppress his feelings once he found how the land lay. The mere mention of her name calmed him down wonderfully. He even seemed a little ashamed of his outbursts of temper.
”I might have remembered that I wasn't the only one in the party,” he said. ”But then I came a fearful cropper, and on top of it I've been out in the rain all night.”
”We were a little luckier.” I told him. ”We found an overhang and that kept off most of the rain. All the same I wouldn't mind a chance of drying myself.”
”And we're likely to get that,” he said with some asperity. ”All our goods are G.o.d knows how many miles behind. I've got a box of matches in my pocket, but they're just about as useful here as they would be at the bottom of the sea.”
”Come now,” I said, ”it's not as bad as all that. We've got a lady to take care of, and we've got to shuffle our brains about a bit and see what we can do. We'll never get anywhere by standing still railing at our fate.”
”Well, you're in charge, Carstairs,” he told me. ”It's up to you.”
”It is,” I admitted, ”and as the first step towards success I might point out to you that the mist is lifting.”
He wheeled round at that with greater agility than I expected, seeing that by his own account he was still feeling pretty d.i.c.ky. The mist was lifting in truth, and yellow spears of sunlight were thrusting themselves through like hat pins run through cloth.
”It'll be the better part of half an hour before the place's clear,” he a.s.serted, with one eye c.o.c.ked at the sky and the other watching me.
”In the meanwhile we'd better go back to Miss Drummond and set her mind at rest,” I suggested.
He trudged along at my elbow with a step that lacked its usual buoyancy, but the sidelong glances I stole at him every now and then showed me that he was fast recovering his spirits. The bruise on his forehead, seen now close at hand and in a better light, was not the fearsome thing I had at first taken it to be. True, it lent him an air of general disrepute, but then none of us were quite fit for the drawing-room. Even Moira, sheltered as she had been, showed very much the worse for wear.
She greeted c.u.mshaw with a cheery smile, the bravest thing about her I thought, and a ready question as to his adventures. But he could tell her little more than that he had gone over the edge with us and rolled away until he brought up against the stone or whatever it was that had bruised his face so nicely. Our own story, what there was of it, was soon told, and a few glances about us showed that in the murk of the night and rain we had missed our footing and shot off the track a dozen feet or so to the level ground below. Above us waved the tall shapes of kingly gums, and below us lay vast s.p.a.ces of bracken. Beyond that we could form little idea as to our position, though the mist was slowly drifting away now.
”The best thing to do, I suppose,” I remarked, ”is to get back to last night's camping-place and see what we can find of the stores. Of course we shouldn't have left them, but it's no use being wise after the event.
We've to go back as quick as we can now, and maybe we can dig up something warm. That's supposing that everything isn't too wet to be used.”
”As I remarked before, it's up to you,” c.u.mshaw threw at me. ”Lead on, Carstairs.”
”If you can show me any way back to the main track, I'll lead on with pleasure,” I told him. ”There's none visible that I can see, and I don't fancy that my eyes are over dull.”
c.u.mshaw said something under his breath, but before I could drop on him for it Moira interposed. ”How about walking round at the foot of this ridge and seeing where it'll lead us to?” she suggested.
”That's as fine a plan as any,” I answered. ”We'll try it.”
We did. We sauntered along listlessly for the best part of an hour, and then it struck me all of a sudden that we were rising rapidly.
”We're on the wrong track,” I said, stopping short. ”We didn't come down as steep a slope as this last night.”
”You're right there, Carstairs. We didn't,” c.u.mshaw said, stopping short and looking about him with a puzzled air.
”Why not keep right on?” Moira advised. ”It's just possible that we're working back to the track.”
”We'll give it a chance,” I said, after chewing the suggestion over in silence for a few minutes. ”We'll keep on for ten minutes or so, and if it gets any worse we can always go back.”