Some one wrote, "Circumstances alter cases." Everybody knows how true
that is, and how often we have illustrations in our own lives. Here is
one: to catch hold of a rope after jumping to it is wonderfully easy,
and in our young days the sensation of swinging to and fro in a sort of
bird-like flight through the air is delightful--that is to say, if the
ground is so near that we can drop on our feet at any moment; there is
no thought of danger as we feel perfect confidence in our power to hold
on. It is a gymnastic exercise. But change the scene: be hanging at
the end of the same rope, with the knowledge that a friend and comrade
is in deadly peril, and that, though resting against a rocky slope which
gives you foothold and relieves the strain on your muscles, there is
beneath you a horrible chasm full of black water, hidden by the
darkness, but lapping and whispering as if waiting to receive the
unfortunate. It is then that the nerves weaken and begin to communicate
with and paralyse the muscles, unless there is sufficient strength of
mind to counteract the horror, setting fear at defiance.
The best thing under these circumstances is to get the body to work, and
make brain take the second place. In other words, act and don't think.
I must confess that my endeavours during those perilous moments were
quite involuntary; for it was in a kind of desperation that I got my
toes upon a solid piece of the slippery rock and pressed myself against
the steep slope for a few moments, listening to the firing, some of
which sounded close, some more distant. Then, shouting to Denham to
hold on, I glanced at the lamp, which was flaring bravely and giving a
good light, but only at the expense of the rapidly melting fat. The
next minute I was climbing as quickly as I could by the rope, and
shuddering as I heard stone after stone go down, any one of which I knew
might crash full upon Denham.
There was no time to think--I was too hard at work; and, to my surprise,
I found myself just beneath the long bridge-like piece of stone which
had been laid across the opening to the shaft; while, by holding on to
the rope with one hand and, reaching up the other to grasp the stone, I
could see by the light which rose from below--reflected from the
glistening wall, for the lamp was out of sight--that the rope was one of
the strong tethering-reins, fastened round the stone as if for the
purpose of lowering a bucket.
The next minute I was seated on the stone, with my feet resting on the
side of the shaft-hole, and drawing up the raw-hide rope hand over hand.
After pulling up some feet of it I came upon a knot which felt secure,
and I then hauled again till I came upon another, also well made. With
the rope gathering in rings about my knees and behind me, I kept hauling
till I came to knot after knot, all quite firm. I found that the rope
was dripping with water, and knew that it had been just drawn out of the
pool below. The end of the rope came to hand directly; and, with
trembling fingers, my first act was to tie a knot a few inches up before
doubling the strong raw-hide plait and tying it again in a loop, which I
tested, and found I could easily slip it over my head and pass my arras
through so as to get it beneath the armpits.
I had the rope off again in a few seconds, held it ready, and shouted
down to Denham, who had been perfectly still.
"Now then," I cried; "can you hear what I say?"
"Yes," came in a strange, hollow tone.
"Look out! I'm going to lower you a rope with a loop all ready tied.
Slip it over your head and under your arms."
"Ah!" he said softly; and, as I rapidly lowered down the rope, though
the tone seemed only like an expiration of the breath, it yet sounded
firmer than that "Yes" of a few moments before.
"I can't see, old fellow," I cried, when I had paid out what I thought
must be enough; "but this ought to be near you now. Can you see it?"
"Yes; but it is a dozen feet too high," he replied. "It won't reach
me."
"Yes, it will," I roared, for there was a despairing tone in those last
words. "Plenty more. Look out!"