On one never-to-be-forgotten occasion he escaped death by a miracle. He sought with his ladder to bridge a chasm in order to copy other inscriptions, but the formation of the rock made it impossible to place the ladder flat. Eventually, after some trouble, he arranged the ladder with one side resting firmly on each opposing rocky ledge, while the other side hung free immediately below. Standing on the lower side, he took hold of the upper side of the ladder with his hands and started to walk across. Suddenly, without warning, the lower side of the ladder with all the rungs broke away from the upper side and dropped into the dizzy chasm. Rawlinson, as he fell, clung desperately to the top side of the ruined ladder. For a brief moment he swung on the verge of a terrible death, then, hand over hand, he made his way back to safety. In the end he managed to copy the Persian and Median inscriptions, but the other inscription in Babylonian on the outjutting rock defeated all his efforts to reach it. For three years he studied his inscriptions, and began to lay their secrets bare. The first draft of his great work was written. Then duty called him elsewhere, and the Afghan War put an end to his studies, compelling him to lay his book aside. It was 1844 before he was able to resume the work he was so anxious to do. That year saw him appointed British Consul at Baghdad, and he took up his residence in the city on the Tigris and his studies at the same time. He was once more in the neighbourhood of Behistun, and eventually he made his plans for procuring a copy of the Babylonian inscription which had defeated him years before. Riding along the old highway to Behistun, he carried with him this time much rope and many sheets of thick paper. He studied the well-known rock from below. There was the long line of figures carved in the limestone, to their left the series of inscriptions cut in column. A little above, on the slanting rock, was the inscription he desired. Through a telescope he could make out the inscriptions he had already copied, but he needed the wings of an eagle to lift him to the other rock. He made his way round the top of the bluff, studying it from all angles, and concluded that it was impossible for him to obtain a copy of the last inscription. He inquired among the Kurdish peasants for one who would climb up to the rock and make a copy in the way he directed. He offered a good reward, but the peasants shook their heads. They considered the feat impossible. Rawlinson, paying no heed, pushed his inquiries further afield, and at last came on a Kurdish boy who willingly undertook the task.