p&c.thunderhead-第33部分

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ghtened　over　the　harrowing　days；　loosened　abruptly；　and　she　leaned　against　the　smooth　surface　of　the　rock；　feeling　an　intense；　overwhelming　flood　of　relief。　Her　father　had　been　here。　They　had　been　following　his　trail　all　along。　She　realized　dimly　that　the　group　was　crowding　around；　congratulating　her。　
　Slowly　she　rose　to　her　feet。　She　gathered　the　expedition　under　a　small　grove　of　gambel　oaks；　near　the　point　where　the　stream　plunged　into　the　slot　canyon。　Everyone　seemed　to　be　in　high　spirits　except　Swire；　who　silently　moved　off　with　the　horses　to　a　nearby　patch　of　grass。　Bonarotti　was　busy　cleaning　the　dirty　cookware　in　the　stream　
　〃We're　almost　there；〃　she　said。　〃According　to　our　maps；　this　is　the　slot　canyon　we've　been　searching　for。　We　should　find　the　hidden　canyon　of　Quivira　at　the　far　end。〃　
　〃Is　it　safe？〃　Black　asked。　〃Looks　pretty　narrow　to　me。〃　
　〃I've　kept　my　eyes　on　the　canyon　walls；〃　Sloane　said。　〃There　haven't　been　any　obvious　trails　that　would　lead　up　and　over　to　the　next　valley。　If　we're　going　on；　this　is　the　only　way　through。〃　
　〃It's　getting　late；〃　Nora　said。　〃The　real　question　is；　shall　we　unpack　the　horses　and　carry　everything　in　now？　Or　shall　we　camp　now　and　go　in　tomorrow？〃　
　Black　answered　first。　〃I'd　prefer　not　to　carry　any　more　equipment　today；　thank　you；　especially　through　that。〃　He　gestured　past　the　canebrake　toward　the　narrow　slot；　which　looked　more　like　a　fissure　in　the　rock　than　a　canyon。　
　Smithback　sat　back；　fanning　himself　with　a　branch　of　oak　leaves。　〃As　long　as　you're　asking；　I'd　just　as　soon　sit　here　with　my　feet　in　the　stream　and　see　what　victuals　Signore　Bonarotti　brings　out　of　his　magic　box。〃　
　The　rest　seemed　to　agree。　Then　Nora　turned　toward　Sloane。　In　the　woman's　eyes；　she　immediately　saw　the　same　eagerness　that　was　kindling　within　her。　
　Sloane　grinned　her　slow　grin　and　nodded。　〃Feel　up　to　it？〃　she　asked。　
　Nora　looked　at　the　entrance　to　the　slot　canyon…barely　more　than　a　dark　seam　in　the　rock…and　nodded。　Then　she　turned　once　again　toward　the　group。　
　〃Sloane　and　I　are　going　to　reconnoiter；〃　she　said；　glancing　at　her　watch。　〃We　might　not　be　able　to　get　in　and　back　before　darkness；　so　it　may　turn　out　to　be　an　overnight　trip。　Any　objections？〃　
　There　were　none。　While　the　camp　settled　down　to　its　routine；　Nora　loaded　a　sleeping　bag　and　water　pump　into　a　backpack。　Sloane　did　the　same；　adding　a　length　of　rope　and　some　climbing　equipment　to　hers。　Bonarotti　wordlessly　pressed　small；　heavy　packets　of　food　into　each　of　their　hands。　
　Shouldering　their　packs；　they　waved　goodbye　and　hiked　down　the　stream。　Past　the　grove　of　oaks；　the　rivulet　burbled　across　a　pebbled　bed　and　entered　the　canebrake　outside　the　mouth　of　the　slot　canyon。　Much　of　the　cane　had　been　torn　and　shredded　into　a　dense　tangle；　and　there　were　several　battered　tree　trunks　and　boulders　lying　about。　
　They　pushed　ahead　into　the　cane；　which　rustled　and　crackled　at　their　passage。　Deerflies　and　no…see…ums　danced　and　droned　in　the　thick　air。　Nora　led；　waving　them　away　with　an　impatient　hand。　
　〃Nora；〃　she　heard　Sloane　say　softly　behind　her；　〃look　carefully　to　your　right。　Look；　but　don't　move。〃　
　Nora　followed　Sloane's　glance　toward　a　piece　of　cane　perhaps　eighteen　inches　away。　A　small　gray　rattlesnake　was　coiled　tightly　around　it　at　about　shoulder　height。　
　〃I　hate　to　tell　you；　Nora；　but　you　just　elbowed　this　poor　snake　aside。〃　It　was　meant　to　sound　lighthearted；　but　Sloane's　voice　carried　a　small　tremor。　
　Nora　stared　in　horrified　fascination。　She　could　see　the　cane　still　swaying　slightly　from　her　passage。　〃Christ；〃　she　whispered；　her　throat　dry　and　constricted。　
　〃Probably　the　only　reason　he　didn't　strike　was　because　it　would　have　caused　him　to　fall；〃　added　Sloane。　〃Sistrurus　toxidius；　the　pigmy　gray　rattler。　Second　most　poisonous　rattlesnake　in　North　America。〃　
　Nora　continued　to　stare　at　the　snake；　almost　perfectly　camouflaged　by　its　surroundings。　〃I　feel　a　little　sick；〃　she　said。　
　〃Let　me　walk　first。〃　
　In　no　mood　to　argue；　Nora　stood　by　while　Sloane　went　on　ahead；　gingerly　picking　her　way　through　the　broken　cane；　pausing　every　few　steps　to　scrutinize　her　path。　
　She　stopped　suddenly。　〃There's　another　one；〃　she　pointed。　The　snake；　disturbed；　was　swiftly　gliding　down　a　stalk　ahead　of　them。　It　gave　a　sudden；　chilling　buzz　before　it　disappeared　into　a　tangle　of　brush。　
　〃Too　bad　Bonarotti　isn't　here；〃　said　Sloane；　moving　ahead　carefully。　〃He'd　probably　make　a　cassoulet　out　of　them。〃　As　she　spoke；　there　was　another　buzz　directly　beneath　her　feet。　She　leapt　backward　with　a　shout；　then　gave　the　snake　a　wide　berth。　
　A　few　more　harrowing　moments　brought　them　to　the　far　side　of　the　canebrake。　Here　the　mouth　of　the　canyon　opened　before　them；　two　scooped　and　polished　stone　walls　about　ten　feet　apart；　with　a　bottom　of　smooth　sand　barely　covered　by　slowly　moving　water。　
　〃Jesus；〃　Nora　said。　〃I've　never　seen　so　many　rattlers　in　one　place　in　my　life。〃　
　〃Probably　washed　down　by　a　flood；〃　said　Sloane。　〃Now　they're　wet；　cold；　and　pissed。〃　
　They　continued　down　the　creek　into　the　slot　canyon；　splashing　in　the　shallow　water。　The　narrow　walls　quickly　pressed　in　around　them；　leaving　Nora　with　the　unfortable　feeling　that　she　was　along　the　bottom　of　a　long；　slender　container。　Eons　of　floods　had　sculpted　the　walls　of　the　canyon　into　glossy　hollows；　ribs；　pockets；　and　tubes。　There　were　only　occasional　glimpses　of　sky；　and　they　proceeded　in　a　reddish　half…light　that　filtered　down　from　far　above。　With　the　high　narrow　walls　of　the　slot　canyon　crowding　out　the　sun；　the　air　at　its　base　felt　surprisingly　chilly。　In　places　where　water　had　scooped　out　a　larger　hollow；　they　encountered　pools　of　loose　quicksand。　The　best　way　to　get　past　them；　Nora　found；　was　to　start　crawling　through　on　her　hands　and　knees　and；　when　the　quicksand　at　last　gave　way；　to　lie　on　her　stomach　and　breaststroke；　keeping　her　legs　rigid　and　unmoving　behind　her。　The　pack；　oddly　enough；　buoyed　her；　acting　as　a　kind　of　float　on　her　back。　
　〃It's　going　to　be　a　wet　night；〃　Sloane　said；　emerging　from　one　of　the　pools。　
　As　the　canyon　descended；　the　light　grew　dimmer。　At　one　point；　a　huge　cottonwood　trunk；　horribly　scarred　and　mauled；　had　somehow　bee　jammed　in　the　canyon　walls　about　twenty　feet　above　their　heads。　Nearby；　there　was　a　narrow　hollow　in　the　rockface；　above　a　small；　stepped　ledge。　
　〃Must've　been　some　storm　that　put　that　tree　up　there；〃　Sloane　murmured；　glancing　upward　at　the　trunk。　〃I'd　sure　hate　to　be　caught　in　a　flash　flood　in　one　of　these　canyons。〃　
　〃I've　heard　the　first　thing　you　feel　is　a　rising　wind；〃　Nora　replied。　〃Then　you　hear　a　sound；　echoing　and　distorted。　Someone　once　told　me　it　sounded　almost　like　distant　voices　or　applause。　At　that　point；　you　get　your　butt　out　as　fast　as　possible。　If　you're　still　in　the　canyon　by　the　time　you　hear　the　roar　of　water；　it's　too　late。　You're　dead　meat。〃　
　Sloane　broke　out　into　her　low；　sultry　laugh。　〃Thanks　a　lot；〃　she　said。　〃Now　you'll　have　me　climbing　the　walls　every　time　I　feel　a　breeze。〃　
　As　they　walked　on；　the　canyon　narrowed　still　further　and　sloped　downward　in　a　series　of　pools；　each　filled　with　chocolate…colored　water。　Sometimes　the　water　was　only　an　inch　deep；　covering　shivery　quicksand；　other　times；　it　was　over　their　heads。　Each　pool　was　connected　to　the　next　by　a　pitched　slot　so　narrow　they　had　to　squeeze　through　it　sideways；　holding　their　packs。　Above　their　heads；　large　boulders　had　jammed　between　the　canyon　walls；　creating　an　eerie　brown　twilight。　
　After　half　an　hour's　struggle；　they　came　to　a　pourover　above　an　especially　long；　narrow　pool。　Beyond；　Nora　could　make　out　a　faint　glow。　Taking　the　lead；　she　eased　down　into　the　pool　and　swam　across　toward　a　small　boulder；　wedged　between　the　walls　about　six　feet　above　the　ground。　A　thick　curtain　of　weeds　and　roots　trailed　from　it；　through　which　came　a　sheen　of　sunlight。　
　Nora　crawled　under　the　boulder　and　paused　at　the　shaggy　curtain；　wringing　the　water　from　her　wet　hair。　〃It's　like　the　entrance　to　something　magical；〃　Sloane　said　as　she　approached。　〃But　what？〃　
　Nora　glanced　at　her　for　a　moment。　Then；　placing　her　arms　together；　she　pushed　through　the　dense　tangle。　
　Although　not　strong；　the　light　of　the　late　afternoon　sun　beyond　seemed　dazzling　after　their　journey　through　the　cramped；　twisting　canyon。　As　her　eyes　adjusted；　Nora　could　see　a　small　valley　open　up　below　them。　The　stream　tumbled　down　a　defile　and　spread　out　into　a　sandy　creek　along　the　valley　floor。　There　was　a　narrow　floodplain；　covered　with　pounded　boulders；　repeatedly　raked　by　flash　floods。　Cottonwoods　lined　the　banks　of　the　floodplain；　their　massive　trunks　scarred　and　hung　with　old　flood　debris。　The　creek　had　cut　down　through　a　layer　of　rock　in　the　center　of　the　valley；　creating　benchlands　on　either　side　that　were　also　dotted　with　cottonwoods；　scrub　oak；　rabbitbrush；　and　wildflowers。　
　The　valley　had　an　intimate　feeling：　it　was　only　about　four　hundred　yards　long　by　two　hundred　yards　wide；　a　jeweled　pocket　in　the　red　sandstone。　The　mellow　sunlight　fell　upon　a　riot　of　color：　blooming　Apache　plumes；　Indian　paintbrush；　scarlet　gilia。　Puffy　cumulus　clouds；　tinged　with　the　afternoon　light；　drifted　across　the　narrow　patch　of　sky　above　the　clifftops。　
　After　the　long　dark　crawl　through　the　slot　canyon；　arriving　at　this　beautiful　valley　was　like　stumbling　upon　a　lost　world。　Everything　about　it…its　intimate　size；　its　high　surrounding　walls；　its　incredible　remoteness；　the　tremendous　difficulties　involved　in　attaining　it…filled　Nora　with　the　sensation　of　discovering　a　hidden　paradise。　As　she　looked　around；　enraptured；　a　breeze　began　to　e　up。　As　the　trees　rustled；　cotton　fell　from　their　catkins　and　drifted　in　the　lazy　air　like　brilliant　motes　of　trapped　light。　
　After　a　moment　Nora　glanced　over　at　Sloane。　The　woman　had　a　look　of　intense；　suppressed　excitement　on　her　face；　the　amber　eyes　seemed　to　blaze　as　they　darted　about；　scanning　first　the　canyon　floor；　then　its　walls。　
　Light　as　a　cat；　Sloane　moved　silently　down　the　shallow　stream　to　the　canyon　floor。　Nora　lagged　behind　for　a　moment。　Mingled　with　her　awe　of　the　beauty　was　a　fresh　certainty：　this　was　the　valley　her　father　had　discovered。　And　with　this　certainty　came　another　thought；　awful　in　its　suddenness。