“Apparently not, sir,” said Seddon.
“They’ll be sorry when they starve to death.”
While Seddon busied himself with his pans, Johns went over and spoke to Scagg.
“Yet another setback,” he said. “Nonetheless, we still have one mule remaining; therefore, I intend to press on. I trust I have your agreement on this?”
“Certainly, Mr Johns,” said Scagg. “I’m determined we’ll get to the Furthest Point, come what may.”
“Good show, Scagg.”
A short time later Seddon announced breakfast.
“Sorry it’s a little overcooked, gentlemen,” he commented. “Someone’s been fiddling with the stove and it was difficult to regulate properly.” As he said this he threw a glance at Plover, who gave no hint of having heard him.
Gribble ate separately at the other side of the camp. Summerfield took her food to her, and was a little while in coming back. When finally he returned his face betrayed anger.
“Plover,” he said. “What on earth did you say to Gribble earlier?”
“I simply reminded her of a few harsh realities,” Plover replied.
“Such as?”
“Such as the fact that the mules have no future in the civilised world.”
“Well, I wish you’d been a little more tactful,” said Summerfield. “Now you’ve gone and upset her.”
“Is this true?” asked Johns. “You’re sure she’s not merely play-acting?”
“I’m afraid not, sir,” answered Summerfield. “She really is quite distraught. Furthermore, she says she’s lost the will to go on. She told me she can’t possibly walk another step.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Summerfield shrugged. “There’s not much difference.”
“Then we’ll just have to put the whip behind her,” said Plover.
“I don’t think so,” said Johns. “That won’t help matters at all.”
“What are we going to do then?” enquired Scagg.
“I’m not sure yet. We’ll need to consider it.”
Accordingly, straight after breakfast Johns and Scagg went into the command tent for a consultation. They spent half an hour discussing the various options; then they called in Chase.
“Now then, Chase,” began Johns. “It’s about your instrument case.”
“Yes, sir?”
“I gather it’s your personal property.”
“That’s correct,” said Chase. “The instruments have been in my family for years, as a matter of fact. I come from a long line of navigators.”
“So I’m given to understand,” said Johns. “Actually, it’s not the equipment I’m interested in so much as the case itself.”
“Ah.”
“Looks like a nice piece of timber.”
“Finest mahogany.”
“Really?”
“Specially selected by the manufacturer.”
“Well, Chase, I was wondering if you would be prepared to sacrifice it for the good of the expedition? You see, we urgently need some timber and apart from a few discarded provisions boxes there’s little else available. It would really help us if you’d consent to this; naturally your contribution would be noted in the records.”
“Of course, Mr Johns, you’re most welcome to use it.”
“Thank you, Chase,” said Johns. “Scagg here will provide you with some cloth to wrap your instruments in. That will be all. Can you send in Sargent next, please?”
“Yes, sir.”
A minute later Sargent arrived. “You wanted to see me, Mr Johns?”
“Yes, Sargent. Now when you joined this expedition I remember you described yourself as a jack-of-all-trades.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Sargent. “That’s what I am.”
“And does that list of trades include carpentry?”
“I can do a bit of joinery, yes.”
“All right, well, we won’t quibble over semantics.”
“Sir?”
“You can call yourself a joiner if you wish.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“What I want, Sargent, is for you to build me a kind of portable chair: something that can be borne by four men, one at each corner. In ancient times such a conveyance was known as a litter. It needs to be as light as possible, but strong enough to take Gribble’s weight. We’ve decided if she won’t walk to the Furthest Point then we’ll jolly well carry her there! Do you have any questions, Sargent?”
“None I can think of, sir.”
“Then you can start directly. Use whatever materials you require.”
“Right you are, sir.”
After Sargent had gone, Johns turned to Scagg. “There’s one slight consolation arising from the loss of the four mules,” he said. “It means our rations should stretch that little bit further. Heaven knows, we’re going to need all our strength in the coming days.”
§
Sargent spent several hours building his portable chair. First he gathered together the few available pieces of timber (including Chase’s instrument case, now empty) and laid them out on the ground. Then, when he’d devised a basic pattern, he set to work. For most of the time his companions left him undisturbed, instead seizing the opportunity to complete minor tasks of their own. Eventually, however, Plover wandered over to see how Sargent was getting along. By this stage the litter was halfway to completion.
“This is sheer folly,” Plover murmured, when he saw it. “The mules are supposed to be our bearers, not the other way round.”
“I’m only doing what I’ve been told,” replied Sargent.
“I’m aware of that,” said Plover. “Yours is not to reason why.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, so much for our ‘dash’ to the Furthest Point. At this rate it’ll take a month of Sundays.”
“Plover!” called Johns from the other side of the camp. “Can I have a word, please?”
“I’ll be right with you, sir!”
When Plover joined him, Johns asked, “Why do you persist in wearing that high-peaked cap in these conditions?”
“Sorry, Mr Johns,” rejoined Plover. “Actually, I forgot I was still wearing it.”
Johns looked him up and down. “You always have to be different, don’t you?” was all he said.
Some while later, as Johns and Scagg conferred over their notes, they were approached by Sargent. At first he went unnoticed and merely hovered awkwardly nearby. Finally, Johns looked up.
“Yes, Sargent?”
“It’s about the handles, sir.”
“What about them?”
“We haven’t got any.”
“Is there nothing to spare?”
“No, sir,” said Sargent. “We’re short of two stout poles. The chair needs one on each side, so it can be carried properly.”
“How long do these poles need to be?”
“About the same length as the tent poles, sir.”
Johns gave a sigh. “Very well, Sargent,” he said. “I suppose if you must have them you must.”
“But then we’ll be down to a single tent!” objected Scagg. “We can’t sleep seven at a time!”
“I know, Scagg, I know,” said Johns. “I’m afraid all of us will just have to take turns and get by as best we can.”
“If I could have the ridge pole as well, sir,” Sargent ventured, “I could improve the basic frame.”
Ultimately it was agreed that not only were the tent poles to be sacrificed, but also a section of canvas, so the litter could be fitted with a canopy to protect Gribble from the weather. In addition it was to have an upholstered seat. This would be made separately by Summerfield, who had offered his services to help speed things up. The afternoon was swiftly wearing on.
“Clearly, we’re not going to get moving until tomorrow,” said Johns. “So we might as well draw up a sleeping roster beginning immediately. Can you see to that please, Scagg?”