did not lie where they fell.  They had slipped down hill, and the channels in the ground indicated that the shock had been enough to start a miniature avalanche which had carried them away.  The pitch was near the slant engineers call the angle of rest, but Festing thought there was rock not far beneath, which prevented the solidification of the superincumbent soil.  It looked as if his contract would be difficult and he would earn his pay.

As the cars passed he saw the ballast creep about the ends of the ties, which reached to the edge of the descent, and in places small streams of gravel had run down, leaving hollows round the timber.  The harsh jolting indicated the consequences, but he knew that in the West railroads are built as fast as possible and made safe afterwards.  For that matter, he had often run risks that would have daunted engineers used to conservative English methods.  In the meantime, the speed was slackening, and by and by the harsh tolling of the locomotive bell echoed among the pines.  Tents, iron huts, and rude log shacks slipped past; men in muddy slickers drew back against the bank, and then the train stopped.

Festing got down into the water that flowed among the ties, and Kerr came forward in dripping slickers.

“If you want help to get the teams out, I’ll send some of the boys,” he said.  “If not, you had better come along and I’ll show you your shack.  I told our cook to fix your supper, and I’ll be glad to sit down for a time out of the wet.”

Festing followed him along the descending track, which presently ended at a ledge of rock sixty or seventy feet above the river.  Wire ropes spanned the gap between the banks, and near the middle a rock islet broke the surface of the savage flood.  Here men were pouring cement into holes among the foundations of an iron frame, while suspended trollies clanged across the wires.  On the other bank was a small flat where shacks of log and bark stood among dripping tents.  The roar of the river filled the gorge, but its deep note was broken by the rattle of hammers, clash of shovels, and clang of thrown-down rails.

The sounds of keen activity stirred Festing’s blood.  He had a touch of constructive genius, but lack of specialized training had forced him into the ranks of the pioneers.  Others must add the artistic finish and divide the prizes of ultimate victory; his part was to rough out the work and clear the way.  But he was satisfied with this, and something in him thrilled as he heard in the crash of a blasting charge man’s bold challenge to the wilderness.  Kerr waited with a twinkle of understanding amusement while Festing looked about, and then took him up the hill.

“You have come back,” he remarked.  “Well, I guessed you would come.  After all, this is your job; it’s here you belong.”

“That is so, in a sense,” Festing dryly agreed.  “It looks as if my job was to get tired and wet and dirty while others got the dollars; but it’s a job with different sides.  Farming’s as much a part of it as this, and has very similar disadvantages.”