Instantly I sprang to my feet and peered upward from the mouth of the
tunnel upon a sight that froze my blood, so horrifying did it seem,
for there above me, still clinging to the pole, hung Nah-ee-lah, her
body, with the exception of her legs, completely over the edge of the
crater. Just as I looked up she dropped the pole and although I made
a grab for it I missed it and it fell past me into the maw of the
crater.
“Julian! Julian! You are safe!” she cried; “I am glad of that. It
terrified me so when I thought you were falling and I tried my best
to hold the pole, but your weight dragged me over the edge of the
crater. Good-bye, Julian, I cannot hold on much longer.”
“You must, Nah-ee-lah!” I cried; “do not forget the hooked poles that
you told me of. I will find one and have you down in no time.” And
even as I spoke I turned and dove into the tunnel; but my heart stood
still at the thought that the poles might not be there. My first
glance revealed only the bare rock of walls and floor and ceiling and
no hooked poles in sight. I sprang quickly farther into the tunnel
which turned abruptly a few yards ahead of me and just around the
bend my eyes were gladdened by the sight of a dozen or more of the
poles which Nah-ee-lah had described. Seizing one of them, I ran
quickly back to the entrance. I was almost afraid to look up, but as
I did so I was rewarded by the sight of Nah-ee-lah’s face smiling
down at me—she could smile even in the face of death, could Nah-ee-
lah.
“Just a moment more, Nah-ee-lah!” I cried to her, as I raised the
pole and caught the hook upon the crater’s rim. There were small
protuberances on either side of the pole for its entire length, which
made climbing it comparatively simple.
“Make haste, Julian!” she cried, “I am slipping.”
It wasn’t necessary for her to tell me to make haste. I think that I
never did anything more quickly in my life than I climbed that pole,
but I reached her not an instant too soon, for even as my arm slipped
about her, her hold upon the ledge above gave way, and she came down
head foremost upon me. I had no difficulty in catching her and
supporting her weight. My only fear was that the hook above might not
sustain the added weight under the strain of her falling body. But it
held, and I blessed the artisan who had made it thus strong.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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