Then a little later Step Hen exclaimed triumphantly:
"Here comes the end of the string, Toby, with a stone tied to it. If they can swing it in now, we'll be able to fasten this message I've written to the end of it, and send it up. Then the boys will know what we expect to do; and they'll try and get down some other way, to join us before night comes on. Because it'd be kind of tough if we couldn't bunk together through the night."
After some manipulation with the piece of broken branch they succeeded in getting hold of the dangling cord, which Smithy had carried along with him, because of some reason or other, possibly from the same principle that caused Bumpus to carry that rope around wherever he went, thinking that it might come in handy sometime or other.
Having dispatched the note to the other scouts by means of the cord channel, Step Hen and the guide started to descend from their perch.
The way was anything but easy, especially to the boy. He had been weakened more than he realized by his hard struggle with those two fierce eagles. And perhaps his numerous wounds, slight as they seemed on the surface, made him less capable of keeping such a firm grip as he had before reaching the ledge. But the same old indomitable pluck held good. When a drop of perspiration, mingled with blood from those scratches, dimmed his vision, Step Hen would dash one hand impatiently across his eyes, and then go right on clambering downward.
Toby kept as near the boy as he could. Had he possessed a rope he would certainly have fastened himself to Step Hen, as a means of protecting the lad against an ugly fall; just as the glacier climbers do when ascending to the snow-covered summit of some lofty mountain peak; so that should one slip, another, having a firm hold at the time, could bear him up.
Again and again he cautioned his companion against trusting his weight on some inviting projecting knob of stone, which he himself had tried, and found wanting; for the guide had insisted on going first as a sort of pilot; when his real object was to be in position to clutch hold of the boy, if possible, should Step Hen make a bad move and fall.
But they finally managed to reach the bottom without any accident happening, for which both of them were thankful enough. They threw themselves upon the rocks, utterly exhausted, and panting for breath. Step Hen was indeed very near a complete collapse; for the boy had been under a terrible strain recently, both mentally and bodily.
After a little, however, when he had pumped much good air into his system, and regained some of his lost breath, Step Hen remembered.
"I hadn't ought to be lyin' around this way, when those fellers up yonder are all tied up in knots waitin' to know whether we've made the riffle, or got stuck part way down. So here goes to tell 'em. They know from my note what we want 'em to try and do next."