Page 56 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

could set in motion mighty machines, men’s muscles, and
awaken also in human breasts an unbounded devotion to
the task. Of the young fellows at the table, to whom the sur-
vey of the track was like the tracing of the path of life, more
than one would be called to meet death before the work was
done. But the work would be done: the force would be al-
most as strong as a faith. Not quite, however. In the silence
of the sleeping camp upon the moonlit plateau forming the
top of the pass like the floor of a vast arena surrounded by
the basalt walls of precipices, two strolling figures in thick
ulsters stood still, and the voice of the engineer pronounced
distinctly the words—
‘We can’t move mountains!’
Sir John, raising his head to follow the pointing gesture,
felt the full force of the words. The white Higuerota soared
out of the shadows of rock and earth like a frozen bubble
under the moon. All was still, till near by, behind the wall of
a corral for the camp animals, built roughly of loose stones
in the form of a circle, a pack mule stamped his forefoot and
blew heavily twice.
The engineer-in-chief had used the phrase in answer to
the chairman’s tentative suggestion that the tracing of the
line could, perhaps, be altered in deference to the prejudices
of the Sulaco landowners. The chief engineer believed that
the obstinacy of men was the lesser obstacle. Moreover, to
combat that they had the great influence of Charles Gould,
whereas tunnelling under Higuerota would have been a co-
lossal undertaking.
‘Ah, yes! Gould. What sort of a man is he?’