We had come to an end. A great projecting b.u.t.tress of crag rose sheer in front. Above lay loose boulders. Below was a shrub-hung precipice. The birds we had seen from home were still circling and screaming.
They were a pair of peregrine hawks. Their nest seemed to lie far below the broken scar, some sixty or seventy feet beneath us.
"He is not dead!" I cried once more, with my heart in my mouth. "If he were, they would have returned. He has fallen, and is lying, alive, below there!"
[Ill.u.s.tration: I ADVANCED ON MY HANDS AND KNEES TO THE EDGE OF THE PRECIPICE.]
Elsie shrank back against the wall of rock. I advanced on my hands and knees to the edge of the precipice. It was not quite sheer, but it dropped like a sea-cliff, with broken ledges.
I could see where Harold had slipped. He had tried to climb round the crag that blocked the road, and the ground at the edge of the precipice had given way with him; it showed a recent founder of a few inches. Then he clutched at a branch of broom as he fell; but it slipped through his fingers, cutting them; for there was blood on the wiry stem. I knelt by the side of the cliff and craned my head over. I scarcely dared to look.
In spite of the birds, my heart misgave me.
There, on a ledge deep below, he lay in a ma.s.s, half raised on one arm.
But not dead, I believed. "Harold!" I cried. "Harold!"
He turned his face up and saw me; his eyes lighted with joy. He shouted back something, but I could not hear it.
I turned to Elsie. "I must go down to him!"
Her tears rose again. "Oh, Brownie!"
I unwound the coil of rope. The first thing was to fasten it. I could not trust Elsie to hold it; she was too weak and too frightened to bear my weight: even if I wound it round her body, I feared my mere ma.s.s might drag her over. I peered about at the surroundings. No tree grew near; no rock had a pinnacle sufficiently safe to depend upon. But I found a plan soon. In the crag behind me was a cleft, narrowing wedge-shape as it descended. I tied the end of the rope round a stone, a good big water-worn stone, rudely girdled with a groove near the middle, which prevented it from slipping; then I dropped it down the fissure till it jammed; after which, I tried it to see if it would bear.
It was firm as the rock itself. I let the rope down by it, and waited a moment to discover whether Harold could climb. He shook his head, and took a notebook with evident pain from his pocket. Then he scribbled a few words, and pinned them to the rope. I hauled it up. "Can"t move.
Either severely bruised and sprained, or else legs broken."
There was no help for it, then. I must go to him.
My first idea was merely to glide down the rope with my gloved hands, for I chanced to have my dog-skin bicycling gloves in my pocket.
Fortunately, however, I did not carry out this crude idea too hastily; for next instant it occurred to me that I could not swarm up again. I have had no practice in rope-climbing. Here was a problem. But the moment suggested its own solution. I began making knots, or rather nooses or loops, in the rope, at intervals of about eighteen inches.
"What are they for?" Elsie asked, looking on in wonder.
"Footholds, to climb up by."
"But the ones above will pull out with your weight."
"I don"t think so. Still, to make sure, I shall tie them with this string. I _must_ get down to him."
I threaded a sufficient number of loops, trying the length over the edge. Then I said to Elsie, who sat cowering, propped against the crag, "You must come and look over, and do as I wave to you. Mind, dear, you _must_! Two lives depend upon it."
"Brownie, I daren"t? I shall turn giddy and fall over!"
I smoothed her golden hair. "Elsie, dear," I said gently, gazing into her blue eyes, "you are a woman. A woman can always be brave, where those she loves are concerned; and I believe you love me." I led her, coaxingly, to the edge. "Sit there," I said, in my quietest voice, so as not to alarm her. "You can lie at full length, if you like, and only just peep over. But when I wave my hand, remember, you must pull the rope up."
She obeyed me like a child. I knew she loved me.
[Ill.u.s.tration: I GRIPPED THE ROPE AND LET MYSELF DOWN.]
I gripped the rope and let myself down, not using the loops to descend, but just sliding with hands and knees, and allowing the knots to slacken my pace. Half-way down, I will confess, the eerie feeling of physical suspense was horrible. One hung so in mid-air! The hawks flapped their wings. But Harold was below; and a woman can always be brave where those she loves--well, just that moment, catching my breath, I knew I loved Harold.
I glided down swiftly. The air whizzed. At last, on a narrow shelf of rock, I leant over him. He seized my hand. "I knew you would come!" he cried. "I felt sure you would find out. Though, _how_ you found out, Heaven only knows, you clever, brave little woman!"
"Are you terribly hurt?" I asked, bending close. His clothes were torn.
"I hardly know. I can"t move. It may only be bruises."
"Can you climb by these nooses with my help?"
He shook his head. "Oh, no. I couldn"t climb at all. I must be lifted, somehow. You had better go back to Lungern and bring men to help you."
"And leave you here alone! Never, Harold; never!"
"Then what can we do?"
I reflected a moment. "Lend me your pencil," I said. He pulled it out--his arms were almost unhurt, fortunately. I scribbled a line to Elsie. "Tie my plaid to the rope and let it down." Then I waved to her to pull up again.
I was half surprised to find she obeyed the signal, for she crouched there, white-faced and open-mouthed, watching; but I have often observed that women are almost always brave in the great emergencies. She pinned on the plaid and let it down with commendable quickness. I doubled it, and tied firm knots in the four corners, so as to make it into a sort of basket; then I fastened it at each corner with a piece of the rope, crossed in the middle, till it looked like one of the cages they use in mills for letting down sacks with. As soon as it was finished, I said, "Now, just try to crawl into it."
He raised himself on his arms and crawled in with difficulty. His legs dragged after him. I could see he was in great pain. But still, he managed it.
I planted my foot in the first noose. "You must sit still," I said, breathless. "I am going back to haul you up."
"Are you strong enough, Lois?"
"With Elsie to help me, yes. I often stroked a four at Girton."
"I can trust you," he answered. It thrilled me that he said so.
I began my hazardous journey; I mounted the rope by the nooses--one, two, three, four, counting them as I mounted. I did not dare to look up or down as I did so, lest I should grow giddy and fall, but kept my eyes fixed firmly always on the one noose in front of me. My brain swam: the rope swayed and creaked. Twenty, thirty, forty! Foot after foot, I slipped them in mechanically, taking up with me the longer coil whose ends were attached to the cage and Harold. My hands trembled; it was ghastly, swinging there between earth and heaven. Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven-- I knew there were forty-eight of them. At last, after some weeks, as it seemed, I reached the summit. Tremulous and half dead, I prised myself over the edge with my hands, and knelt once more on the hill beside Elsie.
She was white, but attentive. "What next, Brownie?" Her voice quivered.
I looked about me. I was too faint and shaky after my perilous ascent to be fit for work, but there was no help for it. What could I use as a pulley? Not a tree grew near; but the stone jammed in the fissure might once more serve my purpose. I tried it again. It had borne my weight; was it strong enough to bear the precious weight of Harold? I tugged at it, and thought so. I pa.s.sed the rope round it like a pulley, and then tied it about my own waist. I had a happy thought: I could use myself as a windla.s.s. I turned on my feet for a pivot. Elsie helped me to pull.
"Up you go!" I cried, cheerily. We wound slowly, for fear of shaking him. Bit by bit, I could feel the cage rise gradually from the ground; its weight, taken so, with living capstan and stone axle, was less than I should have expected. But the pulley helped us, and Elsie, spurred by need, put forth more reserve of nervous strength than I could easily have believed lay in that tiny body. I twisted myself round and round, close to the edge, so as to look over from time to time, but not at all quickly, for fear of dizziness. The rope strained and gave. It was a deadly ten minutes of suspense and anxiety. Twice or thrice as I looked down I saw a spasm of pain break over Harold"s face; but when I paused and glanced inquiringly, he motioned me to go on with my venturesome task. There was no turning back now. We had almost got him up when the rope at the edge began to creak ominously.
It was straining at the point where it grated against the brink of the precipice. My heart gave a leap. If the rope broke, all was over.
With a sudden dart forward, I seized it with my hands, below the part that gave; then--one fierce little run back--and I brought him level with the edge. He clutched at Elsie"s hand. I turned thrice round, to wind the slack about my body. The taut rope cut deep into my flesh; but nothing mattered now, except to save him. "Catch the cloak, Elsie!" I cried; "catch it: pull him gently in!" Elsie caught it and pulled him in, with wonderful pluck and calmness. We hauled him over the edge. He lay safe on the bank. Then we all three broke down and cried like children together. I took his hand in mine and held it in silence.
When we found words again I drew a deep breath, and said, simply, "How did you manage to do it?"
[Ill.u.s.tration: I ROLLED AND SLID DOWN.]
"I tried to clamber past the wall that barred the way there by sheer force of stride--you know, my legs are long--and I somehow overbalanced myself. But I didn"t exactly fall--if I had fallen, I must have been killed; I rolled and slid down, clutching at the weeds in the crannies as I slipped, and stumbling over the projections, without quite losing my foothold on the ledges, till I found myself brought up short with a b.u.mp at the end of it."
"And you think no bones are broken?"
"I can"t feel sure. It hurts me horribly to move. I fancy just at first I must have fainted. But I"m inclined to guess I"m only sprained and bruised and sore all over. Why, you"re as bad as me, I believe. See, your dear hands are all torn and bleeding!"
"How are we ever to get him back again, Brownie?" Elsie put in. She was paler than ever now, and prostrate with the after-effects of her unwonted effort.