(2/3) The Teeth of the Gale (19 page)

"While these thoughts came and went in my mind, I was methodically working my way along, and had gone well past the halfway point when a shout from Esteban made me turn my head cautiously toward the bank that I had left. There I saw a sight that shook me badly. A smallish brown beast had come out from the bushes on the bank and was standing, sniffing and pawing inquisitively at the vibrating ropes and the stone pier to which they were tethered. It was a bear cub; not big, perhaps eight weeks old; activated, as bear cubs often are, by foolhardy curiosity, not in the least afraid of the humans near at hand.

I heard Conchita cry, "Shoot it, shoot the beast! Shoot it, Esteban!"

And I heard his answering cry, "
Bueno, bueno,
señora!"

"
No,
you fool, leave it alone!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, and set the bridge oscillating wildly by my sudden movement. Pedro likewise shouted, "
Don't shoot!
Don't shoot it!" but to no avail. Esteban, delighted to have some action required of him at last, snatched up his gun and discharged it at the cub, which was still standing on hind legs and sniffing at the rope. It tumbled down, dead, and the two postilions ran quickly to pick it up.

"Its fur will make a jacket," I heard Conchita say.

"Idiots!" yelled Pedro with all his strength. "Watch out for the
mother
!"

And indeed, next moment, the mother appeared out of the undergrowth. She was taller than a tall man, heavy as a cart horse; with a high yelling cry, something like that of a pig, she launched herself at the two men who were handling her dead cub. Aghast, they dropped the corpse and ran in different directions, shouting with terror and shock; Conchita flew into the hut and barricaded herself inside it; which left Juana standing unprotected on the bank, where she had stationed herself to watch my crossing of the rope bridge.

My heart seemed to fall clean out of my body into the gorge below. There she was, defenseless, in deadly danger, and here
I
was, strung on two ropes over the gulf, with my gun strapped out of reach, useless on my back; however fast I moved, I would never be able to get back in time to save her if the bear flew at her.

"Juana! Keep very still!" I called hoarsely.

The massive bear turned, at the sound of my voice, and eyed me intently. I joggled frantically on the rope, to hold its attention, and shouted "Ho! Ho! Hiloo! Yah! Bah!"

Juana remained still as a stone, but the wind was rising, and blew the folds of her blue hood about her face. The movement caught the bears eye, and it turned again slowly in her direction.

"Bear! Bear!" I yelled. "Look at me! Look at me on the bridge. Come and get me, bear! Here I am!"

The bear considered. Then it moved toward the pier that supported the two ropes, sniffed at them, and tested them with its massive paw, armed with huge sickle claws.

"
Jesu Maria!
" I heard Pedro whisper. The bear must weigh all of 1,000 pounds; if it climbed onto those ropes they would snap like pack thread. Glancing sideways out of the corner of my eye I could see that Pedro, quite close on my left, had unstrapped his gun and was taking careful aim.

"Please, dear Father," I heard myself muttering, "oh, please don't let Juana—" and then the report of Pedro's gun echoed sharply in the gorge and a ball whistled close to my cheek. Looking the other way I saw the great bulk of the bear turn and totter, then fall majestically into the gorge, bouncing and crashing among branches of small trees that grew down the face of the cliff.

With arms and legs grown weak as melted wax I completed the crossing, stepped onto firm ground, swayed, and had to support myself by grabbing at the ropes again. I turned at once to see what was happening on the other bank.

Juana was crouching as if her legs, like mine, would hardly hold her up; she steadied herself by holding on to a sapling tree. The two outriders had returned, shambling and sheepish, from wherever they had fled to, and tiptoed to peer over the edge of the cliff and see what had become of the bear. Its body was visible to me, lodged in a tree fork about thirty feet down; I was not sure whether they could see it.

"It is dead!" I yelled angrily across the gorge. "Small thanks to you!"

Then I turned to Pedro and embraced him.

"Pedro, I am in debt to you for the rest of my life. That was a superb shot."

"Ay,
vaya, vaya
" he said, embarrassed. "It was nothing. Yours would have been just as good, if you had been able to shoot. But I am very sorry for the poor old mother bear. Why should she lose her cub, and her life? As for that
bruja,
that female crocodile, that she-devil—" he went on for some minutes, using the most wicked language.

"Pedro, Pedro! It is a good thing she can't hear you!"

"It is a good thing she is not here, close enough for me to get my hands on her throat. Saving herself! Leaving the lady Juana in such danger—"

I saw, over his shoulder, that Esteban was tapping on the hut door, obviously informing Conchita that the danger was now past. She put her head out, he said something, and she emerged, looked about her carefully, walked to the cliff edge, and waved a hand.

"It is quite safe," she called. "Esteban has shot the bear. You can go on your way."

"
Oh
—!"exploded Pedro.

Laughing—all of a sudden I felt wonderfully light-hearted—I took his arm and said, "Come along, come along,
amigo.
She is right. We had better proceed with dispatch. After all, the day is more than half done. And I think there is a storm gathering."

As we walked away from the bridge, I thought, Grandfather was right. I suppose he is always right, the old wretch. What in the world should I have done on this excursion without Pedro?

The rope bridge crossed the Aragon river just beyond the point where another, smaller tributary river joined it from the east, deep in its own narrow gorge. We now stood on the triangle of land where the two streams met; ahead of us, a great corner of mountain, all shrouded in trees, came down to the confluence.

"Which way now?" I asked Pedro.

"Along here." He led the way on a barely discernible track, still following the course of the Aragon; then he stopped to examine some broken twigs. "Hey, hey, somebody else has been this way."

"Well, it was probably de Larra, coming with fresh supplies. Or it could have been Don Amador. I noticed fresh horse droppings behind the foresters' hut. Amador is not very careful about concealing his tracks."

"I wonder where he put the horse itself?"

"Hobbled it in the forest, perhaps."

"Let us hope the bear ate it," said Pedro.

We rounded a corner of cliff, and, suddenly, there was the Castillo de Acher, in full view, high above the forest.

I have seen many castles, some ruined, some still inhabited, during my journeyings across Spain, but none so large or so dramatically situated as this one.

For a start, it was perched right over our heads on top of a 200-foot crag. To the rear of the castle, where the slope was not so steep, an encircling wall ran down to a fortified gatehouse; but it could be seen that there was no possibility of approaching on that route, for the road to the gatehouse, which cut to and fro in zigzags across the hillside, had been blown out in two places.

Although many centuries old, the castle looked amazingly new, for it was squarely built of pale-brown stone, all the towers and turrets and angles sharp and clear as if each stone had only just been laid in position by the mason.

"What a place!" I breathed. "You would think Don Ignacio would prefer living there to the house in Berdun."

"Too steep a climb every time you want to go fishing," said Pedro.

"So where was the rope that Don Manuel let down?"

"Over this way."

Pedro led the way to a point at the very foot of the cliff, which was not quite sheer, but ran down into a wild meadow, sloping like the side of a steeple—seamed, scarred gray rock, with here and there a gnarled tree growing out of it. At a point near the top there was an overhang, and above this a wooden arm had been built into a block of masonry. There was a wheel and a pulley, but no rope.

"Humph," I said. "It looks as if de Larra's not back yet with his new rope and stock of provisions. What do we do now? I doubt there'd be any purpose in our firing off two shots—"

"De Larra did speak of another way into the castle," Pedro said doubtfully. "A tunnel running up through the rock. But if he knew where it was, he kept that knowledge to himself."

"He didn't wholly trust us, and who's to blame him?"

"I'd give a month's pay to know where that fat fellow has got to—" Pedro was beginning, when a slight noise above made me glance up.

"
Look out!
" I threw Pedro to one side and ducked myself, but had moved just too late; a cascade of stones and larger lumps of rock came splattering and bouncing down the cliff, and a great block about the size of a leg of mutton caught Pedro a blow on the side of the head and knocked him to the ground.

I flung myself on my knees by him and reached for his pulse; thank heaven it beat strongly; he was only half stunned, and indeed in a moment or two he murmured, "
Ay, diablo!
What was that? Here, let me get up—"

"No, no, lie still; you had a sharp knock there." Carefully, I felt his skull; thank God, it seemed undamaged, due in part to the stout leather hat that he wore. I dragged him away from the foot of the cliff and laid him under a thick pine tree with drooping branches that ought to protect him from any more such hazards. "Stay there quietly, Pedro—I'll be back soon."

Then, scanning the face of the cliff above me again, I found what I was seeking.

A small voice called, "You must come and help me! I can't get any farther."

"Come down then!" I snapped.

"I don't wish to!"

"Then stay where you are."

I took off my jacket and wrapped it around Pedro.

"I do not
wish
to do that. I wish to go on!"

I almost laughed. Even stuck halfway up a cliff, little Pilar was unchangeably herself.

If she inherited no other virtues from her knavish parents, she did possess tenacity of purpose. And courage too, I thought, starting up the heeding cliff after her.

Among the things we had purchased in Pamplona were a number of climbing irons for just such an operation as this. From the beginning it had been in my mind that Don Manuel might have chosen some such aerie by way of a refuge; fortunately I had carried a bag of these irons with me. By jamming them into cracks I was able to swarm up the rock face at a fair speed, making use of all the notches, ledges, lumps, and tree roots that came within reach. In due course I found little Pilar, somewhat hazardously perched on a fairly wide ledge that underran an overhang, about two thirds of the way up.

"Why didn't you come faster?" she complained.

"You little wretch! You should be thankful that I came at all. Where in the world is your papa? How could he permit you to do such a crazy thing?"

"Oh," she said discontentedly, "he went off to search for a tunnel. And he took so long about it that I thought I had better go up this way. I like to climb. I am a good climber."

"So I have observed."

"But now I can't see which way to go." She squinted up disapprovingly at the overhang. "That big bulge is a
nuisance.
"

I smiled to myself; her intonations were so like those of Conchita.

"Now," I suggested, "you just have to come down again."

"No—no—no!"

I thought she was going to have a tantrum, like the one in the saddler's shop. "I will not, will
not
go down again. I am going up, up,
up,
to see Nico and Weeza, and my other papa, whom I love a great deal better than fat old Dor-Dor."

"Oh indeed?"

"And you must help me."

On consideration, that did not seem such a bad notion. After all, we were more than halfway up already. I had my letter from Juana as a passport, and possibly this little imp of Satan would not cause any harm to my mission.

Is this Your plan for me? I asked God, and, receiving no sign of dissent, I told little Pilar, "You stay there a moment while I work my way past you and see what lies at the far end of this ledge."

Accommodatingly, she packed herself into a kind of chimney corner while I wriggled past. To my great relief, at the narrow end of the shelf I discovered a useful crack in the rock, leading upward. And above that was an outcrop with several good handholds, and above that...

"Come along," I said, returning to Pilar. "I have managed to stick some irons into the rock, which will make it easier to climb; you can go on ahead and I will give you a lift upward when it is needful."

"Don't you dare touch me unless I ask for it," she ordered sharply. "I can manage very well by myself."

Indeed she could. Sure-footed as a monkey she clambered upward; I could well understand how she had managed to negotiate the conical chimney in Don Ignacio's house.

Twenty minutes' more scrambling brought us to a grassy dip at the top of the cliff; here we stopped to get our breath and survey our injuries; little Pilars blue cloth dress was in shreds and her hands, elbows, and knees were badly scraped, but she bore these injuries with fortitude; I had various abrasions and a cut on the forehead from a falling rock. Pilar was ready in a moment to continue exploring.

"Look, there's some steps—" she began.

"Hush!"

"Why must I hush?" she demanded.

"Because Don Manuel—your other papa, if that is what you call him—is not expecting visitors. For all I know, he has a loaded musket pointed in this direction, ready to blow our heads off. So we must tiptoe along very quietly."

Fortunately this plan appealed to her.

"Yes! We will creep so quietly that we take them quite by surprise!"

We ascended the steps, of which there were a great many, and made our way softly about the great labyrinthine place. There were ruined chambers, open to the sky, arches, corridors, an inner tower, a bailey, a keep, a well; there were stables, a chapel with beautifully carved pillars, a banqueting hall, roofless and crumbling; there were galleries, cloisters, and arcades. The place seemed, at various times, in its long history, to have combined the function of both castle and monastery. All empty now, ruined and desolate, with full-sized trees growing in some of its courts and huge holes gaping in its walls. And a great view out over the clouds in all directions. Huge snowcapped peaks hemmed us in to northward.