Dont go near the water until you learn how to swim, quoted McGill.
You dont know how true that was, Mike. There was an edge of bitterness in Ballards voice. Like all kids everywhere we had our swimming hole over by the bluff behind the Petersons store. All the kids could swim well except me all I could do was dog-paddle in the shallows and if my mother had known about that shed have given me hell.
He took out a packet of cigarettes and offered one to McGill who produced a lighter. Inhaling smoke, he said, I was twelve when it happened. It was in the spring and Alec Peterson and I were down by the river. Alec was the fourth of the Peterson brothers. There was a lot of melt water coming down from the mountains the river was full and flowing fast and the water was bloody cold, but you know what kids are. I dipped in and out of the shallows more out than in but Alec went farther out. He was tough for a ten-year-old, and a strong swimmer.
Dont tell me, said McGill. He got into trouble.
I think he got cramp, said Ballard. Anyway, he let out a yell as he was swept out into the main stream. I knew I wouldnt have a hope in hell of getting him out, but I knew that river. It swirled around the bluff and on the other side there was an eddy where anything floating usually came ashore. It was common knowledge among the kids that it was a good place to collect firewood. So I belted across the bluff, past the Peterson store as fast as I could run.
He drew on the cigarette in a long inhalation. I was right. Alec came inshore and I was able to wade in and grab him. But on his way around the bluff hed bashed his head on a rock. His skull was cracked and his brains were leaking out and he was stone dead.
McGill blew out his breath. Nasty! But I dont see how you could be blamed for anything.
Dont you? Well, Ill tell you. Two other people heard Alec when he yelled but they were too far away to do anything. And they saw me running like hell. Afterwards they said theyd seen me running away and leaving Alec. The two witnesses were Alecs brothers Charlie and Eric.
McGill whistled. Now Im beginning to see.
They made my life a misery for the next four years. I went through hell, Mike. It wasnt just the Petersons they set all the other kids against me. Those were the loneliest years Ive ever spent. I think Id have gone nuts if it hadnt been for Turis son Tawhaki.
It must have been tough.
Ballard nodded. Anyway, when I was sixteen years old Ben appeared in the valley as though hed dropped from the sky. That was when the preliminary exploration was made for the mine. He listened to the local gossip, took one look at me and another at my mother, and then they had a flaming row. He beat her down, of course; very few people could withstand Ben. The upshot of it was that I went back to England with him.
And your mother?
She stayed on for a few years until the mine started then she went back to England, too.
And latched on to you again?
More or less but Id learned the score by then. Id cut the apron strings. Ballard flicked his cigarette butt out into the snow.
There was a brief silence before McGill said, I still dont get it. Grown men dont behave like Charlies behaving because of something that happened when they were kids.
You dont know Charlie, said Ballard. Johns all right and, apart from what he believes about the mine, so is Eric. But for one thing, Charlie and Alec were very close Alec was Charlies twin. And for another, while you cant call Charlie retarded, hes never really grown up hes never matured. Only last night you said he sounded like a schoolboy.
Yeah. McGill stroked the side of his cheek. He had not shaved and it made a scratching sound. Anyway, Im glad you told me. It makes things a lot clearer.
But theres nothing much any of us can do about it. Ballard prodded at the starter again and the engine caught with a steady throb. Lets go up to the Gap.
He drove into town, and as they were passing the Supermarket, McGill pointed to a car just pulling out. Looks as though hes leaving, too.
Thats John Peterson. Ballard accelerated to get ahead and then waved Peterson down.
As Peterson drew alongside McGill wound down the side window. Going far, Mr Peterson?
John said, Ive an early business appointment in Christchurch tomorrow, so I thought Id leave early and get in a couple of rounds of golf there today. He laughed as he waved at the snow. Not much chance of golf here, is there?
You may be disappointed, said McGill. Our information is that the Gap is blocked.
Blocked? Impossible!
Were just going to have a look. Maybe youd like to tag along behind.
All right. But I think youll find yourself mistaken.
McGill closed the window. As the White Queen said I can think of six impossible things before breakfast. Carry on, Ian.
They drove up the road that rose towards the Gap and which paralleled the river. As the headlights beam swept across the ravine which the river had cut McGill said, Jack Stevens could be right. Have you ever seen the river as full as that?
Ill tell you when we come to the next bend. At the next corner Ballard stopped the car. The beam from the headlights played in calm waters which swirled in smooth eddies. Ive never seen it so high. The ravine is more than thirty feet deep here.
Lets get on. McGill turned in his seat. Peterson is still with us.
Ballard drove as far as he could until he was stopped by a cliff which suddenly appeared from out the darkness a cliff which had no right to be there. My God! he said. Just look at it!
McGill opened the door of the car and got out. He walked towards the wall of snow and was silhouetted in the headlights. He prodded at the snow and then looked upwards, shaking his head. With a wave of his hand he gestured for Ballard to join him.
Ballard got out of the car just as John Peterson drew alongside. Together they walked to where McGill was standing and beating his gloved hands together. Peterson looked at the piled snow. What caused it?
McGill said blandly, What you are seeing, Mr Peterson, is the end result of an avalanche. Not a big one, but not a small one, either. Nobody will be leaving Hukahoronui for quite some time at least, not in a car.
Peterson stared upwards, holding his hand above his head to stop snow driving into his eyes. Theres a lot of snow there.
Avalanches tend to have a lot of snow in them, said McGill drily. If the slope above the town gives way therell be a hell of a lot more snow than you see here.
Ballard walked over to one side and looked at the river. Therell be floods in the valley if the water keeps backing up.
I dont think so, said McGill. The water is deep here and therell be considerable pressure at the bottom. It will soon drill a hole through this lot Id say before the day is over. That will leave a snow bridge over the river, but it wont help any to clear the road.
He went back to the snow wall and took out a handful of snow and examined it. Not too dry but dry enough.
What do you mean? asked Peterson.
Nothing. Just being technical. He thrust his hand under Petersons nose, palm upwards. With the forefinger of his left hand he stirred the snow around. Soft, harmless stuff, isnt it? Just like lambs wool. His fingers closed on the snow, making a fist. There was a man in my line of business called Zdarsky, he said conversationally. He was a pioneer working before the First World War. Zdarsky said, Snow is not a wolf in sheeps clothing it is a tiger in lambs clothing.
He opened his fist. Look at that, Mr Peterson. What is it?
In the palm of his gloved hand lay a lump of hard ice.
So that was the first avalanche, said Harrison.
Yes, sir.
And it meant that no vehicles could leave or enter the valley?
That is correct.
So what happened next?
McGill said, It had been my intention to persuade the town council that the best course of action was to evacuate the population of the valley until the danger had receded. This was now impossible.
You say impossible. Surely the obstacle could be climbed.
It could be climbed by the fit and active, of course; but what of the elderly, the handicapped and the children? But at least one member of the town council was now convinced that avalanches were something to be reckoned with in Hukahoronui. He was now ready to go back to town and throw his full weight into implementing any action I recommended. Mr John Peterson had been the first mayor and his words and actions would count for a lot. We went back to the town to get some action going.
Harrison nodded and made a note. What was the name of the man you quoted to Mr Peterson? How do you spell it?
Z-D-A-R-S-K-Y, Matthias Zdarsky. He was an Austrian and an early pioneer in snow studies. McGill hesitated. I have an anecdote which may have some bearing on what I quoted to Mr Peterson.
Proceed, said Harrison. As long at it does not take us too far from our purpose here.
I dont think it does. A couple of years ago I was in Western Canada as a technical adviser on avalanche protection. There was a cartographic draughtsman who had been given the job of drawing a map of the area showing all the sites of avalanche hazard. It was a long job but he had nearly finished when, one day when he got back from lunch he found that some joker had written in medieval lettering on each avalanche site the words Here be Tygers, just as on an old map.
He smiled slightly. The draughtsman didnt think much of it as a joke, but the boss of his department took the map, had it framed, and hung it on the wall of his office as a reminder to everyone about avalanche hazard. You see, everyone in the game knows about Matthias Zdarsky and what happened to him.
An interesting anecdote, said Harrison. And perfectly relevant. At the risk of wasting more time I would like to know what did happen to Zdarsky.
He was in the Austrian army during the First World War. At that time both sides Austrians and Italians were using avalanches as weapons in the Dolomites and the Tyrol. Its said that eighty thousand men died in avalanches during the war. In 1916 Zdarsky was going to the rescue of twenty-five Austrian soldiers who had been caught in an avalanche when he himself was caught in one. He was lucky enough to be rescued alive but thats about all you can say. He had eighty broken bones and dislocations, and it was eleven years before he could ski again.