Part 56 (1/2)

looking at me as he did. For I couldn't help it a bit.”

”Well, never mind; it's all past now.”

”It ain't, I tell you, and never will be past. Everybody will know that I am a horrible coward, and it will stick to me as long as I live.”

I tried to laugh, at him and pa.s.s it off, but it was of no use. He took it regularly to heart, harping constantly upon Gunson's manner to him.

”But you are making mountains of mole-hills,” I cried at last, angrily.

”Well, that's what they are made out of, isn't it, only plenty of it.”

”But you say he looked at you.”

”Yes; he looked at me.”

”Well, what of that? There's no harm in his looking at you.”

”Oh, ain't there? You don't know. He just can look. It was just as if he was calling me a miserable cowardly cur, and it cut me horrid.

S'pose I did stick fast in the middle of that path--Bah! it isn't a path at all--wasn't it likely? If I hadn't stopped and held on tight, I should ha' been half-way back to the sea by this time, with my nose knocked off at the least, and the salmon making a meal of what was left of me. 'Course I held on as tight as I could, and enough to make me.”

”Well, never mind,” I said. ”There: I won't hear a word more about it.

Perhaps I shall be a horrible coward next time, and then Gunson will look at me.”

”If he does, I shall hit him, so there.”

Esau looked ill-used at me because I laughed, and kept on muttering all the time we were in that terrible gorge, just as if the gloom of the place oppressed him. As for me, I seemed to have enough to do to watch where I placed my feet as we slowly climbed on for hour after hour, thinking all the time of the valley I had read of years before in the _Pilgrim's Progress_, and feeling half ready to see some horrible giant or monster rise up to stop our way.

It was rapidly growing so dark down between those terrible jagged walls that I began to think we should have to make camp soon and sleep there in some one or other of the black hollows, and without fire, for there was nothing visible but sc.r.a.ps of moss, when, all at once, on turning a corner which had appeared to block the way, it began to grow lighter, for the sides of the gorge were not so perpendicular.

Then another corner was turned, and it was lighter still with the warm soft light of evening, and there in the distance was a glowing spot which I took at first for the sun, but which I knew directly after to be the ice-capped top of a mountain glowing in the sun. Below it was the pine forest again, looking almost black, while away on high a cascade came gliding down like golden spray, touched as it was by the setting sun.

Half an hour's more weary tramp, and the chief of the Indian party stopped short, and we found that we had suddenly come upon an opening by the river where about a couple of dozen Indians were standing by the rows of salmon they had hung up to dry in the sun.

They all stood gazing at us in a stolid way, till the man who had guided us went up to them, and then one of the party turned back to their cl.u.s.ter of teepees and came up to us directly after with a friendly offering in the shape of a couple of freshly-caught still living salmon, which Quong bore off eagerly to a spot above the camp.

”But the Indians,” I said to Gunson. ”Shall we be safe?”

”Safe or in danger, my lad,” he replied, ”I want food and rest. This is the worst day's work we have had. Ah, I am beginning to believe in Quong. Here, let's help the little fellow. You get some water while I cut some wood.”

As we separated I had to go by Esau, who looked at me suspiciously.

”I say,” he whispered, ”what has old Gunson been saying about me?”

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

”LOOK!”

I can't describe my feelings towards Gunson. One hour he seemed to me coa.r.s.e, brutal, and common; at another he was the very reverse, and spoke in conversation as we tramped along together about books and languages in a way which made me think that at one time he must have been a gentleman. At these moments his voice sounded soft and pleasant, and he quite won me to him.