Blue Ridge Mountains -- Fiction; Mountain life -- Fiction
The young man had removed shoes and stockings, and now walked boldly
down the sloping surface toward the brink. Behind him went Uncle Dick,
who was to advance as far as his foothold should be secure. On the
level above the Slide, the three other men held the rope, ready to pay
it out, or to haul it in. Uncle Dick's duty was to save it, so far as
might be, from being frayed on the rocks. It was to be let out to its
full length, or until the lightened weight showed that Zeke had found
support. It was to be pulled in, in the latter case, after three tugs
on it by him. Zeke went boldly, it is true, but now, since he had
appreciated Uncle Dick's warning, he went with painstaking carefulness
as well. He realized that on his care might now depend the life of the
girl he loved. So, he moved downward with increasing slowness, as the
curve of the rock grew more pronounced. At each step, he made sure
that his feet still clung. Then, when still two yards from the edge,
he found the footing too precarious for further walking, even with the
rope. A glance over his shoulder showed that Uncle Dick had halted a
rod above. He looked closely and saw that the brim of the cliff was
smooth a little to the right. To save the rope as much as possible, he
moved in this direction, Uncle Dick above making the like change.
Then, he seated himself on the rock and, while the men above paid out
the vine, he went gently sliding downward toward the abyss.
Presently, his feet reached the brow of the cliff, passed beyond it,
hung in space. The men watching from above, let the rope slide still
more slowly. Now his middle was at the brink. He held to the rope with
his right hand. With his left he fended himself from the cliff. He
looked down. For an instant, accustomed though he was to the high
places among the mountain crags, his senses reeled before the
impression of unsubstantial vastness. Out beyond him was nothingness
for what seemed endless distance. Straight below was the sheer wall of
the precipice, with hardly a rift for five hundred feet. There a ledge
showed dimly. Then, again, a half-thousand feet of vertical rocks to
the valley.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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