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"I can still hear ye," Munro says.
Errol sticks his tongue out at his cousin.
"Very mature, laddie. Will ye thumb your nose at me next?"
"Maybe. If you don't stop interfering."
"It's not interference." Munro has just finished adjusting his backpack. "What are ye meaning to do with your other pack?"
"Ashley already asked me that."
"You didn't answer her question."
Errol unzips the mystery bag and carefully pulls out a rolled-up rope without letting us see what's inside. Then he unfurls the rope and ties it onto the bag. "This is how I'm going to carry it."
He starts walking, dragging the bag behind him.
"Ye cannae climb a steep cliff," Munro says, "with that thing dragging behind you."
"I've done it before." Errol slings the rope around his shoulders. "Now haud yer wheesht, unless you've got something mission-related to say."
We climb up the steep path single file, with me between the two men. They probably need a little space from each other after their argument about how Errol chooses to carry his mystery pack. I think tensions are running higher now because we all feel like we're so close to finding the prize we've hunted for and nearly died to track down. Well, maybe I didn't almost die. But I came too close to that for my comfort. It won't be in vain, though. I swear I can almost taste victory.
I need to bend over and almost crawl up the path. Even Errol and Munro hunch over more and more the higher up we travel. Though I keep going for as long as I can, sweat begins to pour down my temples and I'm breathing hard.
Errol turns to glance back and notices me struggling. He's clearly winded too. "Time for a break. Even Munro seems to be struggling."
I expect Munro to balk at that assessment, but he doesn't say anything about it. We all sit down and drink some water while we recharge our energy. I close my eyes and lean back against a boulder, listening to the occasional cries of birds and the distant sounds of voices down on the river, probably tourists excited about riding the next rapid. The voices gradually fade away, and I let the warmth of the sun penetrate my skin, lulling me into a state of deep relaxation.
"The lass is exhausted," Munro says. "We should go down the river a little further to find a place where we can camp. We all need to recover from our trip through Hermit Rapid."
"Just let me take a wee look around before we leave," Errol says. "I have an intuition."
"About what? I donnae see anything of interest up here."
"You aren't looking at it the right way. Solving riddles is my forte, not yours. Let me do what I need to do."
Munro grunts. "Go on, then. Impress me."
I open my eyes and sit up. "Stop arguing, you guys. You're like a couple of little old men complaining about whose hemorrhoids hurt the most."
Errol stands up. "You two stay here. I want to check out my hunch."
"On your own?" I say. "No, we should go together."
"You can come with me, Ashley. But Mr. Grumpy should stay here to guard our gear."
Munro puckers his lips but doesn't complain about Errol's command, not even when Errol steals the GPS unit from his cousin's pack. He takes the mini GPR out of my pack and grabs a head-mounted flashlight from his own bag.
I follow Errol a little further up the path to a spot where the earth has gouged out little canyons in the reddish brown cliffs. But Errol seems uninterested in those features. He heads straight for an overhang that drapes down so low that we would need to lie on our bellies to peer into it.
Errol turns on the GPS unit so he can mark this position on its map. Then he hands the unit to me so he can turn on the ground-penetrating radar and scan the area.
He freezes, staring at the small screen on the GPR device. "My intuition was right. There's some sort of cavern behind this overhang. I need to crawl in there to check it out."
I lean against him while I study the GPR data on the screen. "I'm not an expert on this technology. Are you?"
"Not an expert, no. But I've picked up a thing or two on other expeditions."
