The Treasure of the Tigris: A Tale of Mesopotamia

by A. F. Mockler-Ferryman

FOR DEAR LIFE.

I drew out my knife, cut off several feet from the rope end, and twisting it round and round the Girdle, tied it with strong knots beneath my garments. Joyously, I climbed to the ledge above me, and then again to the second ledge. There I rested, and studied the cliff above me. It was disappointing; for it rose up sheer for almost twenty feet, and no foothold could I see anywhere. I crept carefully round a slightly projecting rock, and found that a narrow cleft, with perpendicular sides, opened back into the cliff. It seemed as if an earthquake or some subsidence had rent the rocks asunder from the top of the well to the bottom. Down below me, the fissure descended full thirty feet; upwards, perhaps for twice that height, the walls towered to what I imagined was the edge of the well.

This was my only chance. I could discover no other possible way of escape from the shelf on which I stood. I wondered if there could be snakes in such a place, but so far I had seen none except at the very bottom. So I dismissed the thought, and began my preparations.

I knew that chimney climbing was a special branch of mountaineering. I had seen it done, but I myself had never attempted anything of the kind. Yet, it was no time for hesitating, and now that I had the Girdle round my waist, I felt nervously anxious to get away. Taking off my sandals and tying them round my neck I unwound the loose coils of rope from my body, tied the end to the boat-hook head, and placed the latter, together with the coiled rope, on the rock at the mouth of the fissure. I might want my trusty boat-hook again, so I decided to keep it secured to one end of the rope, the other end of which was attached to my body. It was a simple matter to get athwart the chimney walls, which were here no more than two feet apart, with rough portions of rock projecting a few inches. My back was flat against one wall, my feet against the other, and once I found myself in that position, I did not stop to think. Raising my feet a few inches, and pressing hard with my back and hands, I found my body gradually ascending, with far less difficulty than I had expected. It was, however, laborious work, and at times I despaired of being able to reach the top. The long rope, also, hanging loosely between my legs caused me a good deal of annoyance, as I was ever in doubt as to whether it would run out freely; though I consoled myself with the thought that, if the worst came to the worst, I could cast it off from my body.

Hour after hour I continued to work my way upwards. My feet, hands, and back were stiff and sore with the constant strain and rubbing; but as I looked down, I realised how magnificently I had done. I felt that I had become a mere machine—up with the feet, up with the back, and another six inches nearer the world. I forgot hunger and thirst, and I thought only of the streak of blue sky that I could see through the top of my prison chamber. I was desperate, I own, but my heart never failed me; and, as I gained confidence in the security of my wedged-in position, I was able, when I became exhausted, to rest occasionally.

At last, I looked up and found that I was nearing the top. Another twelve or fifteen feet, and I should be free. But, alas, I saw that the cleft was widening, and at the top was two or three yards across. Even now, it had become more than three feet wide, and every inch would increase my difficulties. I struggled on a little higher. With the whole of my back flat against one wall and the soles of my feet against the other, my knees were no higher than my waist. I could go on slowly as long as my knees had any bend in them; after that I should be powerless.

I stopped, and gazed up again. How near I was to the edge! Six feet—perhaps not as much. Yet, a step higher, and the chimney would be too wide for my legs to span. An old and straggling bush grew on the edge, with branches extended mockingly above me. Could I but reach that bush, I should be safe. But it was well-nigh impossible. I looked down into the depths of the fissure, and I thought of what was before me; how my legs would soon give way, and how my body would bound from side to side, until the final crash finished everything. Then my eyes followed the long, trailing rope, and rested on the tiny boat-hook, far below. I had forgotten its very existence, but the sight of it gave me fresh hope.

Pressing with all my strength with feet and back, I began to haul away at the rope. Yard after yard came up, and then I felt a check. I knew that I had taken in all the slack, and had come to the boat-hook. I wondered whether its weight would be too much for me. Gradually and carefully I pulled at it; I could hear it grating over the rock; one pull more and it was free, and swinging against the sides of the chimney. Its weight was little, and hand over hand I gathered in the rope, allowing it to fall down again to one side, until, before very long, the head of the boat-hook struck my knuckles. I passed the shaft upwards between my legs; in trepidation I watched the hook approach the bush, and when I saw that the bamboo was more than long enough, I breathed more freely. I was getting horribly nervous and excited, and I nearly lost my footing in my eagerness to grasp the bush with the hook. I took a pull at myself, and the next moment the boat-hook, with the rope attached to it, was round the solid stem of the bush.

But I was not yet free. I knew that I could not climb up the bamboo, and I did not feel equal to climbing up the rope. Before attempting anything, however, I determined to make myself as safe as possible, so, taking up a portion of the rope, I knotted it firmly into the loop round my waist, and encircled the spear-shaft with my arm. I now considered that I was quite secure; a taut rope stretched from my waist to the hook fastened in the bush, and as long as I held the shaft, so as to prevent the chance of its flying upwards when my weight came on the rope, I felt that I could not come to much harm. Even if my exhausted legs gave way, I should still hang from the bush, but I had no intention of relying on this, unless forced to do so. I sat there and rested, easing first one leg and then the other; I wondered whether the bush would be strong enough to bear the strain that I should presently put on it; and I nerved myself for my final effort.

Raising my hands as high as possible above my head, I grasped the rope, and, still keeping the long bamboo close to my right hip and between it and my right armpit, I hauled myself upwards. Had the cleft remained the same width all the way to the top, my ascent would have been easy; but when I was within a yard of the bush, it widened suddenly, and before I knew what had happened, my feet had lost their hold, and I was hanging by my hands to the rope. Desperation seized me, and I fancy that the roughness of the rocks helped me; for, with a frantic effort, I pulled myself up the rope, assisted by my toes, which seemed to obtain a cat-like hold on the steep cleft-side. I put out one hand and grasped the thick roots of the bush; I let go the rope, and with the other hand snatched at the nearest branch. A second later, I was lying flat on my back in the open desert, a yard or more from the edge of the well.