A long night’s rest, and then, leaving Jan Kokerboom and Mangwalaan to guard the camp, they packed the ladder upon four oxen, and taking with them Seleti, the Bechuana lad, and September, the Zulu, set off for the cliff top. Arrived there, it was a matter of two long hours before they had pieced the four portions of the ladder together and made all ready. Then came the work of getting the ladder over the cliff. Poeskop had been busily reconnoitring the wall of the precipice before they set to work. He had chosen an excellent spot, where the rock walls sheered gently inwards towards the base. Very carefully they let the ladder over, and lowered it yard by yard. At last, after one or two delays, it touched the bottom of the kloof. Hearty cheers from Guy and Tom, in which Poeskop’s shrill voice joined, signalized the successful accomplishment of a difficult piece of work. "Now then," said Mr. Blakeney, "who’s first?" "I think I ought to be," cried Guy eagerly, "by right of patrimony. If my father had lived, he would certainly have gone down first." "No, pater," urged Tom; "I’m the lighter of the two. Let me go. It will be safer." "Well, on the whole," said Mr. Blakeney, smiling at their enthusiasm, "I think Poeskop had better go first. His claims are undeniable. His weight is about two and a half stone less than either, and he was the first of us to set eyes on the kloof. Let him go." "Very well," said Guy.--"Poeskop, you go first, and I’ll follow." They had fastened the top end of the ladder with the greatest care to a sturdy wild olive tree which grew there. They had taken the utmost precaution to guard against any chafing at the edge of the cliff, and, to strengthen the ladder yet more, had added two extra pieces of hide to the side-supports for thirty feet from the end where it was fastened to the tree. All being prepared, Poeskop, with his carbine slung to his back, put his foot on the first rung of the ladder, and began the descent. The little man had not an atom of fear in his composition, and he went down steadily, hand under hand, with the greatest composure. The rope and hide structure bore his weight easily. There was no strain, and it was evident that the great care which Mr. Blakeney had bestowed on the making had not been thrown away. At last, after what to the watchers at the top seemed an interminable length of time, the Bushman reached the foot. Stepping out from under the base of the cliff to a spot where he could see his masters, he waved his hat and called out in English, "All right." "Now then, it’s my turn," cried Guy. "All right," said his uncle. "Away you go. But take care. Don’t be in a hurry."