There it lay, in full view--the nest which he had climbed so far to
find. It was not more than a hundred yards away. Yet, at first sight,
it seemed hopelessly out of reach. The chasm separating the ledge on
which it clung from the outlying rock of the pine was not more than
twenty feet across; but its bottom was apparently somewhere in the
roots of the mountain. There was no way of passing it at this point.
But Horner had a faith that there was a way to be found over or around
every obstacle in the world, if only one kept on looking for it
resolutely enough. To keep on looking for a path to the eagle's nest,
he struggled forward, around the outer slope of the buttress, down a
ragged incline, and across a narrow and dizzy "saddle-back," which
brought him presently upon another angle of the steep, facing
southeast. Clinging with his toes and one hand, while he wiped his
dripping forehead with his sleeve, he looked up--and saw the whole
height of the mountain, unbroken and daunting, stretched skyward above
him.
But to Horner the solemn sight was not daunting in the least.
"Gee!" he exclaimed, grinning with satisfaction. "I _hev_ circumvented
that there cervice, sure's death!"
Of the world below he had now a view that was almost overpoweringly
unrestricted; but of the mountain, and his scene of operations, he
could see only the stretch directly above him. A little calculation
convinced him, however, that all he had to do was to keep straight on
up for perhaps a hundred and fifty feet, then, as soon as the slope
would permit, work around to his left, and descend upon the nest from
above. Incidentally, he made up his mind that his return journey
should be made by another face of the mountain--any other, rather than
that by which he had rashly elected to come.
It seemed to Horner like a mile, that last hundred and fifty feet; but
at last he calculated that he had gained enough in height. At the same
time he felt the slope grow easier. Making his way towards the left,
he came upon a narrow ledge, along which he could move easily
side-wise, by clinging to the rock. Presently it widened to a path by
which he could walk almost at ease, with the wide, wild solitude, dark
green laced with silver watercourses, spread like a stupendous
amphitheatre far below him. It was the wilderness which he knew so
well in detail, yet had never before seen as a whole; and the sight,
for a few moments, held him in a kind of awed surprise. When, at last,
he tore his gaze free from the majestic spectacle, there, some ten or
twelve yards below his feet, he saw the object of his quest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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