Mystic Mountains

standstill at an awkward angle, its rear end near the precipice. Its load was scattered, some trunks and boxes just saved by stumps and branches from falling over the edge.
    Tiger and the men were groaning as they pressed their shoulders to the front of the dray, trying to prevent it from sliding nearer to the great drop. Their faces were wreathed in sweat, contorted with the effort. Isabella could smell their fear.
    "No!"
    Tiger was near the edge and he looked up at her scream. The dray shifted and he ro ared an oath. It was then Isabella saw the man trapped beneath a wheel.
    Isabella knew she would be haunted by the agonized cry that tore from the mouth of the trapped man all her days.
    The horses further up the hill pranced about, calling out their anxiety, and were joined by the bullocks bellowing their fear. Isabella pressed her hands over her ears. Everybody seemed to be shouting.
    But Tiger's voice overrode every other as he shouted orders for them to lift as they pushed. Then Tiger's roared, "No!" echoed across the hills, as the crushed man went over the edge. The body crashed through the bushes, tumbling and falling for what seemed an eternity.
    The ensu ing silence was so intense a bird's sudden song pierced it shatteringly.
    Isabella limped over to where the men all stared mutely over the precipice, their faces showing utter confusion and horror.
    "Get the rope. I'll have to go down." Tiger threw his hat to the ground as he shouted the order.
    "You can 't do anything, man. He'd have no chance down there." Gillie touched his arm. Tiger shook him off.
    "Who is it?" Isabella asked in a low voice. Tiger gave her a swift glance the n looked abruptly away toward the man fetching a rope.
    "Aw, girl." Gillie pushed his hat back and rubbed his head where sweat trickled down, making dirty streaks across his forehead.
    A cold fear settled in Isabella 's stomach.
    Gillie looked at Tiger, then back at her, his head going slowly from side to side. "'Tis Dougal, I'm afraid, girl," he said quietly. "The lad got hisself caught under the wheel. He was probably dead before he went over. Tell Tiger he can't do this. What's the use of him killing hisself too?" He laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it.
    Isabella tried to swallow. A great lump sat lodged somewhere in her throat. She tried to speak but no words came out. Wrapping her arms over her chest she rocked back on her heels. This was a nightmare.
    "I have to do it, Gillie. He could be alive still," she heard Tiger say as he tied the rope about his waist. "Make sure 'tis held taut." He yanked at the end of the rope he'd secured about a sturdy tree stump, then stepped to the edge, looking down.
    Isabella clutched at his a rm, hanging on tenaciously. "No," she cried. "You'll not go down." She turned appealingly to Gillie, then back again. "If Gillie says he's dead, then that's it. No sense in two of you dying. Tell him, Gillie. He can't do this. 'Tis madness."
    She saw the stubborn intent in Tiger 's eyes, and blanched. God—if he died, a part of her would wither and die too. At the back of her brain it occurred to her that she didn't feel such sentiments for poor Dougal. Yes, she felt a deep sorrow for him, but her friend died on the night she'd married him, replaced by a stranger she neither respected nor loved.
    "He 's my husband." Her chin lifted as she outstared Tiger. "I have the right to decide." Glancing over the precipice she shuddered. Dougal's body was nowhere to be seen. "No man could live after falling down there. And he was already injured. I beg you, Tiger, please don't risk it. Perhaps there's another way lower down," she added, knowing they wouldn't have a hope of finding a body in the unending dense undergrowth.
    Tiger clenched his fists. She was right of course. The dray had crushed Dougal; he'd been dead before going over the cliff. He would have been torn to ribbons, his body shattered by the fall. Doubtless the rope wouldn't even take Tiger as far as Dougal had fallen.
    Running his fingers over his head he took a few paces away then came back to her. With a shuddering sigh he said, "If that 's how you want it, then so be it. But be it on your head." His look encompassed everyone nearby. "Let no one ever accuse me of not being prepared to do all in my power to rescue the man."
    "No one could blame you, Tiger." Gillie looked about at the others, his eyes daring anyone to contradict him. "'Twas a sorry accident."
    "I hate not being able to bury a man