"Haven't you got to the bottom yet, Coventry?" Simpson called out, with a tinge of anxiety in his voice. "You had better come back, and we'll go to the camp and get some rope and candles." The Scout instantly began to retrace his footsteps. Possibly owing to the fact that he had already performed the harder task of descending, he momentarily allowed his sense of caution to desert him. The fingers of both hands simultaneously slipped from a lichen-covered niche. He struggled desperately to recover his hold, and fell. The lads, gathered round the mouth of the pit, heard a stifled cry followed by a dull thud, then all was silent. "Off belts, lads," ordered Leader Simpson. In a few seconds a leathern rope, twenty feet in length, was made up. Simpson fastened one end round a staff which was held by four of the Scouts, and threw the free end down the pit; then, without hesitation, he grasped the improvised life-line and swung himself lightly over the edge. Simpson knew he could trust to these belts. They were not the cheap shoddy article, but well-made ones of well-seasoned leather. The buckles, too, were strong and reliable, so that the Leader of the "Wolves" had good cause to have perfect faith in the rope of belts. Hand over hand he descended, until he knew that he was literally almost at the end of his tether. Then, proceeding slowly and cautiously, and keeping his feet rigid, he continued his downward course till his hand encountered the buckle joining the two lowermost belts. "I must risk it and drop," he thought, finding himself unable to touch the side of the pit. "It cannot be so much farther to the bottom." Relaxing the muscles of his legs in order to bear the shock with the least risk of broken limbs, Simpson released his hold and dropped--a distance of less than two feet. With a sigh of relief he drew a box of matches from his pocket and struck a light. Lying almost at his feet was the unfortunate Coventry minor. The lad was senseless and bleeding from a cut just above the left ear. There was no time to be lost. It was imperative that the luckless Scout should be brought up to the open air as quickly as possible. By the aid of another match, Simpson discovered the position of the line of niches. Then, unfastening the unconscious lad's belt, he refastened it round his chest just beneath his arm-pits. This done, the Leader clasped the buckle at the end of his emergency rope to the ring in Coventry minor's belt. "Haul up, slowly and steadily!" he shouted. Ascending by means of the niches, Simpson accompanied his senseless charge, steadying the lad's body to prevent it swaying against the rock, till at length to his great relief Neale and Fraser grasped the rescued Scout and grew him clear of the shaft. "Is he dead?" asked the unfortunate lad's brother, anxiously.