"Hold on tight, Smithy; it's all right, and you're not going to fall, understand that now. So, up you come, my boy! Another pull like that, and we'll sure have you on deck again. Easy now with that rope back there; Step Hen, hold to the mule, and keep him quiet, will you?"
Thad said all this in a reassuring, matter-of-fact tone, that was better calculated to put confidence into the faint heart of Smithy than anything else could. Step Hen and Davy Jones caught hold of the obstreperous Mike, almost frantic because of these strange carryings-on, and held him tight, so that he might not interfere with the critical work of rescue.
And so Smithy was finally pulled over the edge. Once Thad managed to secure a grip of the collar of his scout coat, he knew everything was serene, for that khaki cloth was firm and sound, and capable of bearing almost any strain.
The rescued scout sprawled on the shelf, panting hard. His face was still ghastly white, for Smithy lacked greatly in fortitude, and needed building up as much as the other tenderfoot, Bumpus, had, before his adventures in the big timber, that had gone so far to raise him in the estimation of his chums.
"Whew! that was a close shave!" exclaimed Giraffe, from the rear, where he had been holding on the other mule with more or less difficulty; because, when Molly discovered that her mate was in some sort of panic, she also wanted to frisk around, and cut up, after the way of mules in general.
Step Hen and Davy Jones were poking their heads over the edge, curious to know just what Smithy had been saved from. The former turned, and grinned.
"Guess you might have been bruised some, Smithy, if you'd gone on down;" he remarked; "but there's a big shelf that was waiting to grab you, just five feet under your toes. But as you didn't know that, and thought the drop was half a mile, more or less, I don't blame you for feeling shaky about it."
Smithy recovered sufficiently to insist on crawling to the edge, and also peering over. When he really found that what Step Hen said was the truth, it seemed to annoy him, strange to say.
"Now, isn't that provoking," he declared, in his precise way of talking that he had learned from his maiden aunts; "why, if I had only been aware of that circumstance, what an amount of mental suffering it would have saved me. When a fellow gets such a fright as that, he likes to know that it was worth while."
The journey was soon resumed; but Thad saw to it that some one else besides Smithy held the leading rope of the tricky Mike. Perhaps the mule might never afterwards try the same game; and then again he was liable to break out in a new direction; for there was a little demon in that wicked eye of his, Thad thought.