With that, Broken Eye and Annie began to lower themselves down the cliff. They made rapid descent through the deepening darkness. The Cougars’ natural agility, strength, and skill using ropes, well suited them to climbing on the sheer cliff face.
The bandits’ plan to take advantage of darkness proceeded well. Their rapid progress seemed to assure their ability to ambush Breister in the dark. It would have worked perfectly, except for one small problem. About halfway down the cliffside, Broken Eye and Annie encountered an outcrop of rock that they could not pass so easily. It stuck out too far. This was a place where Helga had lost considerable time on her way up because she had to move a long way horizontally to get around the obstacle.
Surveying the situation, Annie noticed a route that Helga had also seen. “Broken Eye, there’s a way to go to the side for a while, then down. We wouldn’t need the ropes.”
Broken Eye, however, was confident that there was a better way. “Isht too far, Annie, we’s lose too much time that way. We’s will use surprise and dark. Annie, we’s will pull around this rock and you just hang on ta the rope. Let isht out slow when we’s call for isht. Stay ready. We’s will swing down, and swing out. When we’s lands below the outcrop we’s will call you. Then, we’s hold the rope and you let yerself down. We’s be past here right away.”
Annie knew it was pointless to argue, so she wrapped the rope around a tree and braced herself securely, holding on to the other end. She would let Broken Eye down until he could find a landing place past the rock outcrop. Once he signaled that he was ready, he would hold his end of the rope and Annie would let herself down. When they both were past the outcrop, the rope could be pulled loose and recovered. Then, they would continue their descent.
Broken Eye let himself out over the outcrop and dangled freely out over the river. Little by little, Slasher Annie uncoiled the rope, letting Broken Eye descend. At last, he was past the outcrop and ready to swing back to the cliff. In the darkness, he used his excellent night vision to look for a landing place. His attention was drawn to what looked like a perfect landing place—a wide ledge—and he swooped over for a closer look. Peering through the darkness, he saw that the ledge was not empty. Lighted with torches, it was teeming with Rabbits, Chipmunks, Mice and Packrats!
“What isht this?” Broken Eye fumed. “There isht no place ta land!” Unable to slow the rate of his swing, Broken Eye lifted his legs high and pulled himself up the rope as much as possible to try and miss the crowds of creatures. WHAM! SCHRUNCH! Broken Eye’s heavy boots hit the rock wall above the creatures, sending a shower of pebbles and dusty grit down on the crowd.
Broken Eye, unable to land, pushed off the cliffside again, sailing out into space. As his pendulum arc reached its limit, he looked over the situation, trying to make sense of the scene. Swinging back, once again, toward the ledge, he saw wagons, carts, and a few buildings, in addition to the crowds. DRY GULCH SALOON AND DANCE HALL read one sign. PORTER’S DRY GOODS read another. And MOL’S BLACKSMITHING was dead ahead. It was apparently a small town, and business was bustling! Torches lit the crowded street that ran past the few buildings.
Broken Eye Plunges
‘Hatchet’ Mol retired to Dry Gulch because of the peace it offered. Perched high up on a precipitous cliff, and hidden away under the protecting shelter of a huge rock outcropping, Dry Gulch was definitely quiet.
The old mining town had once seen some boom years after gold was discovered, but now it was nearly abandoned. A few dozen Rabbits, Mice, Chipmunks and Packrats—old prospectors, miners, shopkeepers, and some of their descendents—still lived in the town. Most of the week, not much happened in Dry Gulch. On Friday nights, other creatures from ’round about came to town to do marketing and have fun. Torches and lanterns lit the streets; farmers and artisans sold wares off the backs of their carts and wagons, friends and neighbors talked and laughed, and a little rowdiness spilled out of the saloon and dance hall. Friday nights were the highlight of the week for creatures around Dry Gulch.
Although Mol liked her peace and quiet, she didn’t begrudge her friends and neighbors the noisy Friday night festivities. She enjoyed the community spirit and even liked all the “little butter biscuits”—as she called the young ones—that climbed all over her, demanding stories.