Хэммонд Иннес - Nothing to Lose [= Campbell’s Kingdom]

Boy took Garry down the next day. “If everything goes well, I’ll be seeing you in shout three weeks,” Garry said as he shook my hand. And then he added, “You’re sure you can get us up the hoist?”

“If I don’t I’ve got to sell to pay your expenses,” I said. “Isn’t that enough of a guarantee?”

“Sure and it is, but I’d like to know just how you’re going to fix it. A bit of bribery and corruption, eh?” He laughed and slapped me on the shoulder.

If he liked to think it could be done by bribery — I smiled and said nothing.

“Well, see you let me have details before I bring my convoy up.”

“I will,” I said. “I’ll mail you full instructions in advance.”

“Okay.” He nodded and hauled himself up onto his horse. “Be seeing you. Bruce.” He waved his hand and started up toward the Saddle.

In the days that followed. Boy and the rest of his team worked from first light till darkness to complete the longitudinal traverse. All the time the geophysical work was going on we were very conscious of the growing activity at the dam. Each day when the weather was good I rode up to an outcrop above the buttress and had a look at what they were doing. Trucks were coming into the hoist regularly, As soon as they were off-loaded a grab crane filled them up with hard core from the slide and they went out loaded with stone.

Two days later the peace of the Kingdom was shattered by an explosion that ran a thundering echo round the mountains. I didn’t need to ride out to my rock outcrop to know what it was. They were blasting at the quarries on either side of the dam. The construction work had begun. When I did get up to my vantage point I saw the whole area of the dam crawling with workers. The race was on and we hadn’t even got our rig up.

“How long do you reckon they’ll take?” Boy asked when he got in that night. His dark face was sullen and moody.

“We’ve plenty of time,” I said.

But it had a depressing effect on all of us. After supper we all walked as far as the buttress. There was a young moon and we wanted to see what it looked like. My own fear was that they’d work at night. But I suppose it was too cold that early in the season to work shifts round the clock. As it was, they had to use large quantities of straw to protect the new concrete from frost. We went higher up the mountain until we could look down on the deep shadows of Thunder Creek. Lights twinkled below us, marking the camp, and an updraft of air brought the sound of a radio to us and the lilt of a dance band, mingled with the murmur of a Diesel engine. A battery of arc lights surrounded the hoist terminal where loaded trucks wore parked, waiting for the morning, and far down the valley the headlights of a vehicle weaved their tortuous way up through the timbered slopes of Thunder Creek.

“We’re wasting our time, fooling around on a survey up here,” Boy murmured moodily.

“What makes you say that?” I asked him.

“There must be nearly a hundred men down in that camp now. You haven’t a hope of getting one truck, let alone seven, up that hoist.”

“The number of men doesn’t make much difference,” I said.

“Are you crazy? Well, if the number if men doesn’t make any difference, what about those arc lights?”

“We’ll need them to load by.”

He gripped my arm. “Just what are you planning to do?”

I hesitated, but I decided not to tell him what was in my mind. The less anybody knew about it the better. “All in good time,” I said. “Let’s go back and get some sleep.”

But he didn’t move. “You can’t take on that outfit. It’s too big, and you know it. The whole thing is too organized.”

“Then we’ll have to disorganize it.”

He stared at me, his mouth falling open. “You’re not planning to—” He checked himself and passed his hand wearily across his face. “No, I guess you wouldn’t be that crazy, but—” His hand gripped my arm. “I wish I could see into your mind, Bruce. Sometimes I feel I’m on the edge of a precipice and you’re a stranger. There’s something inside of you that brushes things aside, that isn’t quite of this world. You know you’re licked and yet you get people like me and Louis and even a tough character like Garry Keogh to string along. What’s driving you?”

“I thought you were as keen about this thing as I was,” I said, keeping my voice low.

“Sure I am, but—” He waved his hand towards the lights in the valley. “I know when it’s time to back down. You don’t.” He caught hold of my arm as though he were about to say something further. Then he let it drop. “Come on,” he said. “It’s time we got back.”

On May twenty-ninth, Boy completed the longitudinal traverse and the following morning he left for Calgary with the recordings. Before he left I gave him a letter for Garry Keogh, instructing him to move up with his vehicles to 150-Mile House not later than June fifth. I would get in touch with him there. I enclosed a signed undertaking to reimburse him for all expenses if I failed to get the rig up to the Kingdom, and Boy had with him my agreement to split profits fifty-fifty with those involved in the development of the property. I also gave Boy a letter to Winnick in which I asked him to let Keogh have a report signed by him, and if that report was optimistic, I asked him to drop a hint here and there among the oil-company scouts. I was preparing the ground for the possibility of ultimately having to fight a legal battle. He had with him also a final list of items we required.

I rode with him part of the way up to the Saddle. It was sleeting and the mountains were gray bulks half hidden by mist. At the edge of a shelf of rock over which the horses had to be led, I turned back.

Boy gripped my hand. “I hope it turns out as you want it, Bruce.”

“I’m sure it will,” I said. “You’ll come straight back?”

He nodded. “I’ll be back inside of a week.”

“And you’ll wire me the result at the Golden Calf?”

“Sure. And don’t worry about the rig. If I know Garry, he won’t be waiting for Louis’ final report. He’ll be getting team and equipment together right now.”

“I hope so,” I said. “Every day we delay weakens our chances of bringing in a well before the dam is completed.”

“Sure. I know.”

“And don’t forget that telephone equipment.”

He looked up at me, his head on one side. “Would that have something to do with your plans to get the rig up the hoist?”

“Without it we’re sunk,” I said.

“Okay. I’ll remember.”

He waved his hand and started across the rock shelf. It was wet and it gleamed like armor plate. I watched him for a moment and then turned my horse and began to descend. I hadn’t gone far before the sun came out and suddenly it was warm, and spring had come to the Kingdom. The emerald green of the grass was splashed with the colors of flowers like a huge meadow.

I stopped and stared down at it, absorbing the warmth of the sun, thinking how beautiful it was. I wondered how the Kingdom would look when ail its beauty was a sheet of water, and I went on down through the timber hating the thought of it.

There was nothing much for us to do, now the survey was over. I just lazed, gaining in energy every day and spending a good deal of time going over and over my plans to get the rig up the hoist.

Three days later I took Bill Mannion with me and we rode down to Come Lucky. We carried blankets and rucksacks stuffed with spare clothing and food. In a bag tied to my saddle were several of the charges used by Boy for his survey shots, together with detonators and some lengths or wire.

As we rode into Come Lucky I saw a change was coming over the place. New huts were going up; some were rough, split-pine affairs, others prefabricated constructions trucked in from the sawmills. A new life stirred in the ghost town, and for the first time since I had set eyes on the place it was possible to walk up the center of the main street.