CHAPTER XI

AT THE EDGE OF THE CHASM

HERBERT NARFIELD wrenched at the steering wheel, but the still intact tyre merely slithered in the dust. Not for one moment did he lose his head. Switching off the ignition, he applied both brakes. Even then the car skidded remorselessly towards the sickening depths.

From where he sat, wide-eyed and motionless, Colin was dully aware that already the bonnet of the car appeared to cut the edge of the precipice. Momentarily he expected the front wheels to plunge over the brink, followed by the rest of the car and the occupants in a terrific dive of utter annihilation.

But seemingly by a miracle the expected catastrophe did not materialise. With a tremendous jar, that brought Colin's head in violent contact with the wind-screen, the car stopped dead.

Tiny Desmond, lying across the back of the front seat, was breathing heavily. For one thing, he was badly scared; for another, the brass-rimmed edge of the seat-back had well-nigh winded him.

Colonel Narfield was sitting perfectly quiet at the useless steering-wheel. His bronzed features were immobile, his jaw sternly set. Realising that all immediate danger was past, he was covertly watching Colin out of the corner of his eyes. He was not disappointed at his investigation. Colin, though he "had the wind up," gave no sign of being in a state of panic.

McFrazer's, "Ah, weel, will I be for puttin' on the Stepney?" broke the silence. There was a general exodus from the stranded car--and a cautious performance, too, since it was quite possible that any undue vibration might complete a protracted disaster and send the vehicle crashing into space.

"We'll man-handle her back into a safer position first, I think," decided Colonel Narfield. "Another six inches and the front wheel would have been over. Get out the rope, McFrazer."

The man went to a locker in the rear of the car and pulled out a coil of three-inch Manilla rope of at least twenty-five fathoms in length. Next he produced two treble-sheaved cast-iron blocks and a couple of crowbars.

"This is our ditching gear," explained Herbert Narfield. "I don't suppose you ever thought to see this kind of repairing kit in a car? It's most useful out here. Now, then, McFrazer, I think that boulder will do. We may not want the crowbars."

He pointed to a mass of rock, weighing perhaps a couple of tons, that had fallen and lodged against the cliff side of the track.

In ten minutes the tackle was rigged, one block being made fast by means of a strop round the boulder, the other to the chassis of the car.

"Man the rope," continued the colonel, stooping to remove two or three large stones. "All ready? Together! Here she comes."

Slowly but surely the "flake" of the tackle came home; still more slowly did the car retrace its tracks, until it was safely in the centre of the rough road.

By this time the sun was almost hidden behind the distant mountains. Already miasmic mists were rising from the valley. No longer were the dense masses of trees visible. An even pall of white vapour hid them, presenting the appearance of a vast lake.

"Now, lads, it's outspan--we camp here for the night," announced Colonel Narfield. "It would be folly to attempt to proceed. Collect all the wood you can find and pile it up in front of that hollow. I'll see to the supper, while McFrazer carries on with fitting the Stepney."

For the next twenty minutes all was activity. They were racing against time in order to make all snug before darkness set in. From underneath the seats in the car Herbert Narfield produced a big pile of blankets and some waterproof sheets. These, with the cushions, were sufficient to make up three comfortable beds, arranged in a segment of a circle, so that the sleepers' heads were towards the wall of rock and their feet towards the fire.

"Why only three?" asked Tiny.

"Because you two are excused duty tonight," explained the colonel. "McFrazer and I will keep alternate watches. If that fire dies out there'll be trouble. There are lions about, but they won't face a blaze. Supper's ready. We'll have to mark time a bit on the water, I fancy. We don't have it laid on out here, you know."

Nevertheless, it was a jolly repast, eaten in the open and in the ruddy glare of the enormous fire that cast fantastic shadows upon the wall of rock.

In the darkness a long-drawn-out roar pierced the darkness, to be answered by another and yet another. Instinctively McFrazer glanced up in the direction of his rifle, that lay propped up against a boulder.

Both Colin and Tiny recognised the sound. Lions were abroad; but when the lads were camping in the open, it seemed quite a different proposition from hearing the roar of the king of beasts from the comfort and security of a moving railway train.

"We may as well have a can of petrol handy," observed the colonel. "And the petrol-squirt, too," he added, as McFrazer hurried to the car, which was a good thirty yards from the fire. He knocked the ashes from his pipe.

"Now," he continued, "you fellows turn in. You must be tired. There's nothing to worry about except water in the morning."

Colin and Tiny turned in "all standing," wrapping themselves in blankets and drawing the macintosh sheets over them to keep off the night dews. From where they lay they saw Colonel Narfield unload his rifle, deliberately notch the nickel bullets, and replace them in the magazine.

"Good-night, old fellow," said Tiny.

"Good-night," replied his chum. Then he added, "Do you always speak the truth?"

"Always," replied Tiny, considerably puzzled. "Why do you ask?"

"Hadn't a chance to mention it before," said Colin, "but do you remember telling Wynyard that you'd never set eyes on that josser who didn't relieve us of our cash?"

"I do," declared Desmond firmly.

"Sure?"

"Rather!"

"Well, I'm not," said Colin slowly. "Far from it. I'm fairly certain--mind you, can't prove it--that the fellow was----"

"Who?" asked Tiny eagerly.

"Van der Wyck," was the startling reply.