The Greatest Works of Emerson Hough – 19 Books in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). Emerson Hough
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to himself. For a time he examined the bird, laughing at its awkward movements when he flung it on the rocks at last, uninjured. Then he edged on along the rock face, his foot on a sort of narrow shelf and his body guided by the supporting rope. “I can get a lot of them here!” he called up to his friends.
A moment later he pushed his arm again into an aperture among these nests. At once he uttered a sudden, sharp cry and pulled out his arm. His finger had been bitten almost to the bone by the hornlike beak of one of the birds. The pain of this alone would have been bad enough, but now it caused a still more serious accident.
As Rob shook his bleeding finger at his side, and half raised his left arm to fend off the rush of two or three angry wild birds, he suddenly slipped with one foot at the edge of the narrow shelf on which he stood, and before he could catch his balance or do more than tightly grasp the free end of the rope which passed under his belt, over and down he went.
For one swift instant he saw the long, white, curling breakers on the beach below him, for he fell face downward, his body or feet scarcely touching the rocky wall. He never knew quite how it happened, but in some way the rope jammed at his belt, and before he had fallen more than fifteen or twenty feet he found himself fast, but swinging like a plummet at the end of the line, entirely out of touch, with either hands or feet, with the face of the rocky wall. Below him he could faintly hear the murmur of the sea on the rocks a hundred and fifty feet below. Above him he could see nothing but the edge of the shelf over which he had fallen. As soon as he could control himself, he called aloud again and again, but he got no answer. If his friends above heard him, their answer was drowned by the clamor of the wild birds. Here, then, was the most serious situation in which he had ever found himself in all his life.
Up above, on the summit of the rock, the boys had seen the sudden jerk on the rope and noticed that now it was motionless, whereas before it had trembled and shifted as Rob moved along the shelf. Skookie was the first to divine what had happened. He pointed to the cord, now tense and stiff, and leaned out over the rim, peering down at the shelf where Rob had stood.
“Him gone!” said he, turning back a sober face. “Pretty soon him die now, I guess.”
Jesse and John looked at each other with white faces. They sprang to the rope, but hesitated, fearing lest touching it might prove dangerous.
“Wait,” said Jesse. “Let’s look around first and get our wits together. One thing is certain, he is down there at the end of this. If the rope was not fast to him it would be loose and we could pull it up. That means that he is alive yet, anyhow, I am sure.” He leaned far out over the rim of the summit, and between his hollowed hands called down: “Don’t be afraid, Rob! We’ll pull you up pretty soon!”
Dangling far down at the end of the rope, Rob at first grew faint and dizzy. He dared not look below him, but had presence of mind enough to keep his eyes fixed on the nearest part of the cap of the rocky wall, so that he was less dizzy, although he whirled round and about at the extremity of the rope, which it seemed to him would almost cut him in two. None the less he made the end all the more secure about his waist; then once in a while he would ease the strain by lifting a little with a hand above his head. He shifted the rope until the noose came closer under his arms, realizing that he must not exhaust his strength in trying to raise his weight hand over hand. Thus, after the first few minutes of fright and after he had dared to open his eyes and take stock of the dangerous plight in which he found himself, he began calmly to reason, as very often one will who finds himself in imminent peril, the situation being too serious to allow him time for fright.
Skookie sat down apathetically on the rocks and made no move. “Get up there, Skookie!” said Jesse. “Why do you act like a dummy? Nobody is dead yet. We’re going to haul him up; don’t you see? Now get hold of the rope — all of us; now, all together!”
They lifted as hard as they could, but, do their best, they could gain almost nothing on the rope. Little as that was, Rob felt it down below and knew that they were trying to save him.
“Now what shall we do?” John asked Jesse, in distress. “If we can’t pull him up — and maybe we’d cut the rope on the rocks trying to do that — why, then, how is he going to get out of that?”
Skookie, seeing that they had but little success in lifting the heavy weight at the other end of the rope, now, without any orders, tried a plan of his own. Passing along the edge of the rim of rock off to the right, he found a place where he could descend for at least a short distance. He disappeared below, but presently came back, his face lighted up with the first sign of hope it had shown.
“Dis way!” he said; “dis way!” and made motions that they should pull on the rope and shift it to the right as far as they were able. The young native’s sharp eyes had seen that if Rob could get to a place a little farther at one side than where he hung, he could get his feet against the rock, and so, perhaps, help himself more than otherwise would be possible.
A little consultation followed at the top of the rock, then inch by inch the boys edged the rope along. Rob found himself, without any effort of his own, gradually approaching the face of the rock. At last he could kick it; and so he helped himself, pendulum fashion, until finally he got a hand on a rocky point, and so could rest his weight on the rough surface. To him even this vantage-ground seemed as if it were actual safety, so much better was it than swinging helpless like a fly on a cord. When his weight was taken from the rope those above at first thought that he had fallen to the foot of the cliff; but now he gave the signal of three short jerks, and they saw that he must have reached some place where he could support his weight. At this they broke out into a shout of joy.
“Now, what will we do?” asked Jesse, thoughtfully. “We won’t pull up until he signals us again, I guess. Maybe he will try to come up himself, steadying himself by the rope, the way he went down. I wish we could see where he is.”
This chance counsel of Jesse’s was precisely the best thing that could have happened, for Rob had now determined to help himself by climbing up the rope hand over hand in the attempt to reach the ledge from which he had fallen. How he was going to get over the edge he could not clearly see, but he was now convinced that the friction on the rope was such that his friends could not haul him up, and that if he were saved he must save himself by getting above that projecting edge.
Slowly he began to feel his way up the rock, supporting his weight as much as possible without the use of the rope, until, half leaning against the rock and half pulling on the rope, which was now shifted to a point directly above his head, he reached a place where he could no longer keep in touch with the rocky face. Then bravely, as should any one who finds himself in such straits, he swung out and rapidly began to climb up the rope, hand over hand, sailor fashion.
He reached the edge of the rock, and perhaps might have been able in some way to get above it without injury, although, on the other hand, he might never have been able to get across unaided. What happened was that the boys up above, seeing the rope again agitated and not certain what their best course now might be, laid hold of it and began to pull as hard as they could. The result was that Rob’s left hand, just as he reached the rim of rock, was caught under the rope. He flung his other hand around the corner, caught the rope, and scrambled up on one knee just as the strong heave from above tore the rope almost through his fingers, cutting them open as they lay against the rocks.
The pain was intense, but he hardly minded that, for he saw now that he was again in safety. From there on up the face of the rock he scrambled on hands and knees, slipping and falling, but still going up, assisted by the steady pull, hand over hand, of his friends, who now saw what had happened, and who encouraged him with their shouts. So, none of them knew just how, presently he found himself at the summit once more, the others about him, all talking at once.
Rob held up his mangled hand, from which the blood was now flowing freely. The wounds to his fingers were really serious, but he bore the pain as bravely as he could, although his face was white.
“Anyhow, I got back,” said he, shaking the blood from his hand. “I think the best thing we can do now is to start on home. I ought to do something for this hand as soon as possible.”
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