Nasmyth glanced into the rift. It was, he judged, nearly sixty feet in depth, but part of the bank on which he stood had slipped down into the stream, leaving an uneven surface by means of which an agile man might descend. A tall slab of rock, evidently part of the fallen mass, rose in a pinnacle from the water, and on top of it rested the branches of the tree that Gladwyne had used as a bridge and had afterward dislodged. The rock behind it on the opposite bank was absolutely smooth, but the thicker end of the log, which had fallen against the face, reached to within about nine feet of the summit. "Yes," he said, answering Lisle's question; "but I'm very doubtful whether I can get up the other side. The last bit looks particularly awkward; there's an outward bulge just beneath the top." "We might manage it by giving the leader a lift, if we got so far," Batley suggested, pointing to the sharp slab. "That pike should help us; I think it would go." "You think it would go?" queried Nasmyth meaningly. "Aren't you mixing idioms? Pike's what we'd say round Wasdale, and your other expression's not uncommon in Switzerland." Batley laughed. "I'll own that I've done some rock work in both districts, though I was thinner then. But I've an idea that time's precious to our leader." He lowered himself over the edge and finding foothold, went down cautiously by crack and fissure, while the others followed with some trouble. Alighting waist-deep in a frothing rush of water, he was driven for a few yards down-stream, and it was only by seeking the support of the rock that he slowly made head against the torrent. Lisle joined him when he reached the foot of the pinnacle, where they stopped to gather breath with a thin shower of spray whirling about them. The light was still dim down in the bottom of the chasm, and the mass of rock ran up above them, shadowy, black and almost smooth. Wasting no time in examination, Lisle flung himself upon it, seeking for a grip with elbows and knees. He had ascended a yard or two when he lost hold and coming down with a run fell with a splash into the stream. "I didn't think you'd manage it that way," Batley remarked. "The edge appears a little more promising." He went up, with Lisle following, finding hold for knees and fingers, while Nasmyth and Crestwick, panting heavily, encouraged each other below. On reaching the top of the pinnacle, Batley lay upon it and gave Lisle his hand; and when he had drawn him up he pointed to the tree. "I'll go first, for reasons that will become apparent later," he explained. "Hold on to the log; it doesn't seem firmly fixed."