THE AWFUL RIDE.
The eventful morning arrived. But it had been kept a profound secret,
fearing that, if a rumour of this dangerous feat being about to take
place got generally known, there would be a concourse of people on the
ground,--and the mare, however steady she was, might get frightened.
Mr. Brown walked up early to the point, and sat behind a rock, from
whence he could have a good view without being seen. Lieut. Fowler and
the young ladies from Pendrea were early on the ground also; and they
took their stations also behind some rocks, but in a more conspicuous
place than Mr. Brown. There were a few other spectators, but very few,
scattered about among the rocks. They waited some time in anxious
expectation, but no rider appeared.
"Morley has altered his mind, no doubt," said Lieut. Fowler to the
ladies; "and I am glad of it; for it is a dangerous feat to perform, on
a strange horse."
"Oh! I wish it may be so," said Blanche; "for, although I came to oblige
Maud, I shall shut my eyes when he goes down to the point."
"Nonsense," said the majestic Maud; "I don't think I should be afraid to
perform the feat myself, if I were a man;--I should like it. But here he
comes. I thought he wouldn't shew the white feather."
At that moment the object of their solicitude came towards them, mounted
on the famous mare, Jessie. She had been well fed, and carefully
groomed, and her master's comb had evidently gone through her tail and
mane more than once that morning.
Morley took off his hat to the ladies, and chatted with them a few
minutes, laughing at the idea of there being any danger in his riding
quietly to the point and back. The ladies admired and patted the
beautiful creature he was riding; and even Blanche thought there could
be no danger on such a beautiful quiet animal as that.
Lieut. Fowler, however, even then, tried to dissuade his friend from the
attempt.
"Don't be such a faint-hearted old codger," said Morley, laughing. And,
taking off his hat again to the ladies, he cantered easily down towards
the point.
The promontory, clothed with short grass, slopes gently down towards the
extreme point of the Land's-End for about fifty yards, and then breaks
off suddenly, and the cliffs go down perpendicularly some two or three
hundred feet, except that, here and there, in the side of the cliff, at
various distances, may be seen, by a person whose head is steady enough
to look down, projecting rocks just sufficient to break the fall, but
not large enough for a body to rest upon for a single moment.
At the bottom, the sea washes the base of the cliffs, coming booming in
with every wave, and surging and dashing against the rocks and cliffs
beneath, sending its spray sometimes in rough weather completely over
those towering cliffs,--a fearful sight for a man with a steady head to
look down upon, but for a horse!
On comes the bold rider,--steadily,--carefully. The mare doesn't like it
at first, and turns round when she is within a few yards of the edge of
the precipice. The turf is soft, and she capers a little. The rider pats
her neck, and turns her head again, gently, towards the cliffs. She goes
on gently! gently! he patting her neck, and sitting steadily on her
back. At last they are standing on the very edge of the precipice, and
are both looking over. Hurrah!! The deed is done!! All eyes are bent on
the bold rider, and are holding their breath. A single false step, even
now, would precipitate them into the abyss below, and both must be
dashed in pieces. Awful thought! The deed is done, however, and Mr.
Brown's misfortunes are at an end. The rider turns his horse to ride
back to his friends in triumph. He has just turned her head round
towards the green turf again, when something attracts the mare's
attention. She trembles! Her back is towards the precipice,--her hind
feet close to the edge of the cliff! Neither horse nor rider sees the
extent of the danger, for their backs are towards it. The mare refuses
to proceed; the rider urges her; she rears! Another moment and they must
be dashed in pieces,--nothing can save them. All is breathless anxiety
among the spectators. No one has the presence of mind to speak. A voice
at this moment is heard distinctly, stentorian in its anxiety,--"_Throw
yourself off the horse, and hold on!!!_" The young officer obeys the
voice instantly, as if it had been a command from his superior officer.
He flings himself off, and holds on by the turf, _like grim death_,
digging his fingers into the soft ground to hold on the firmer; for he
now hears the horse go down over the precipice,--down! down! bumping on
the projecting rocks in the fall, and _screeching_, as horses and all
animals will do in extreme danger and suffering. The rider had fallen on
the turf, it is true; but he had barely saved himself, for _his legs
dangled over the edge of the precipice_!
He could not stir. He felt as if he was holding himself up by his
fingers, which he had dug into that soft turf, and this seemed giving
way every instant; but it was not so in reality. His body was safely
lodged on the ground, although his feet were hanging over, and as long
as he could hold on he was safe; but he couldn't hold on so very long.
And then--oh! horror!--his terror and fright caused him to fancy a
thousand horrid deaths in an instant of time. Before he had been lying
on the turf two minutes, however, a tall, strong-built, powerful-looking
man, came bounding down towards him from one of the rocks just above,
and, seizing him round the waist, lifted him up in his strong arms, and
carried him to a safer resting-place. By this time he had fainted, and
was unconscious of the attentions which were being paid him.
His providential deliverer was no other than Josiah Trenow, who had come
there to see the feat, and was standing behind a rock, at no great
distance from the point. And he it was who had the presence of mind to
shout to the rider to throw himself off, when he saw the horse rear; and
it was his strong arm that lifted the poor terror-stricken man from his
perilous position.
Had it not been for the presence of mind of this bold strong man, the
young officer might still have gone over; for he had not the power to
move a limb, and, when he fainted, and let go his hold in the grass, he
must have followed the horse,--down! down! Oh! terrible fate!!!