Part 2 (1/2)

Will rode on with his companion at a steady trot. Ruggles was a st.u.r.dy grizzled veteran of about fifty years of age. He was the handy man of the staff. He could act as rodman, chainman or slopeman as circ.u.mstances required. He could build a boat, repair an engine, and cook a dinner with equal facility, and once he surprised Will by helping him out in a knotty calculation in trigonometry. It had been a source of wonder to Will that a man whose attainments were so various should have risen no higher than the humble situation he at present occupied.

One day he ventured delicately to hint at the matter.

”I'll never earn more than two pound a week as long as I live,” said Ruggles.

”But why? I earn more than that, and you could do my work better than I can.”

”Drink--that's why. Every sixpence I earned above two pound would go in drink, and so, to be on the safe side, I'm never going to earn a penny more, that's flat.”

Will could not help feeling amused at the old fellow's emphatic declaration, more especially because the man was not a teetotaller, but drank his gla.s.s of ale at dinner like the rest, and was never known to exceed. He guessed that there was some story in the background, and hoped that some day Ruggles would tell it; but the man was reserved about his own affairs, though as sociable and cheerful a man as any on the staff.

It was near midday when they reached the section Will was to level, and as the sun was high they decided to eat their lunch in the shade of the trees and begin work later. Ruggles produced bread and cheese and a bottle of beer, and when this had been disposed of, filled an enormous pipe and lay on his back contentedly puffing away, throwing out a remark occasionally. At last Will sprang up, saying they must set to work.

For several hours they walked over the ground, making calculations which Will entered in his notebook, and taking photographs for after use.

Will often found that such photographs when developed disclosed features of the country that had escaped notice. The ground he was now working over was very rough, and even in the few weeks that had elapsed since his predecessor visited the spot the track which had been partially cleared had become overgrown with tropical weeds. Ruggles found plenty of work for his knife and the axe he carried in his belt.

Will proved in course of time that the previous calculations had been very accurately made. In some cases he found lateral deviations of six or seven feet on a ten-degree slope; these he corrected. In one case he saw reason to suggest a slackening of grade on a curve in a long gradient; and he noted an alternative means of crossing a small stream, for the consideration of the Chief. It was tiring work, done in the heat of the sun, and both were glad when it was finished. They returned to the spot where they had left their ponies tethered to two of the surveyor's stakes, and were on the point of mounting when Ruggles drew Will's attention to a number of hors.e.m.e.n crossing an open s.p.a.ce between two belts of woodland about two miles away. Will looked at them through his field-gla.s.s.

”They're coming this way, in single file. Wonder who they are,” he said. ”Have a look, Ruggles.”

”About thirty of 'em, as near as I can count,” said the man, after a long look. ”I can't make anything of 'em.”

”Are they muleteers?”

”No.”

”Perhaps they are soldiers.”

”Don't look like it. I can't see any uniform, nor rifles either. We'd better make tracks.”

”What's the hurry? I've seen nothing to be afraid of in the natives; they're a pretty poor lot so far as I have come across them.”

”That's a fine healthy English way of looking ac things, but if you'd lived in this country as long as I have you'd know that when you spot such a troop in the distance the best thing you can do is to clear out--unless, that is, you have any particular wish for trouble.”

”But why on earth should you suppose they're not peaceable folk--a hunting-party, perhaps?”

”Supposing's neither here nor there. Hunters don't ride in a line, without hounds. My belief is that they're brigands, and we shan't have much to say to them with one revolver between the two of us.”

”They may be soldiers.”

”That's only another name for brigands here. The only difference is that a soldier is a brigand in office, and a brigand is a soldier out of office. And, by Jeremy! they've got a prisoner. There's a man trotting a-foot beside one of the horses; ten to one he's tied to the stirrup.

Take a look, Mr. Pentelow.”

”You're right; and I can see now they've got rifles slung to their backs. They're making a bee-line this way. What's their game, I wonder?”

”Shouldn't be surprised if they've paid a visit to the mines, to begin with.”

”I think I've got it,” said Will, the recollection of what Antonio de Mello had said flas.h.i.+ng across his mind. ”There's a revolution brewing: these fellows are either Government troops or rebels. We had better get back and tell the Chief.”

”I said so five minutes ago, if you recollect, Mr. Pentelow. In this country there are always plots against the Government, whether it's good, bad, or indifferent--and it's mostly bad. Revolution is always on the simmer, you may say, and every few years it boils over. It's the curse of the country. Any big job like this railway of ours is like sitting on a powder-barrel: any moment you may be blown sky high, in a manner of speaking. If Government don't interfere with you, then Revolutionists will; and I'll lay ten to one those hors.e.m.e.n are one or the other, beating up recruits. They haven't seen us yet or they'd be coming faster, so we had better slip in among the trees and gallop for railhead. We can at least put the Chief on his guard.”