He was peering tensely through the glasses, scarcely breathing, when all at once his heart gave a spasmodic jump. The climbing shape seemed to lose contact with the wall—slipping; and as he stared with horrified eyes, the little figure swayed sidewise, flung up vainly reaching arms, and suddenly dropped from view.
Dexter felt a sharp muscular shrinking in his body, and for an instant his senses swirled with a queer physical sickness. Instinctively his eyes shut, dreading the anguish of seeing. But in a moment he shook off the first feeling of giddiness, and by a strong mental effort, forced himself to look again. Breathing audibly through tight clenched teeth, he steadied himself and held the glasses firm. Gradually he lowered the lenses, and then suddenly a great gasping sigh heaved up from the depths of his chest, and his sagging shoulders lifted, as though relieved of a crushing weight. At a point midway down the cliff, he once more had caught sight of the small, clinging figure.
His eyes aglow with thanksgiving, he stared intently, and at once understood what had happened. The girl must have lost her footing somehow, falling down the face of the cliff; but instead of plunging to her death among the rocks at the bottom, she landed providentially upon some sort of shelf or ledge, only a few feet below, and with quick wit had caught a handgrip and anchored herself to the projecting stone.
For the time being she had saved herself, but as Dexter gazed towards the far-off heights, fresh misgivings smote him. The girl was huddled against the flat wall, resting partly on one knee, her hands spread out before her. He watched dubiously for a space, and she did not attempt to move. He could not make out her face, nor was he able to see how she managed to hold on; but there was a drooping limpness in the posture of the tiny figure, and he realized that she was in distress. Either she was hurt, or else she had lost confidence and was afraid to stir from an insecure resting place. In either case she needed help. Dexter promptly left the shelter of the trees, and started forward, running, across the snowy meadow.
The ground underfoot was broken by pits and furrows, but he plunged on recklessly, measuring his stride by instinct, keeping his anxious glances for the heights above. Before he had traversed half the distance the girl discovered his approach. He saw her look over her shoulder, and then raise herself abruptly, as though actuated by some rash purpose. Alarmed, he waved his arm, motioning her furiously to hold her position. She gazed upward at the towering rocks above, but after an interval she sank down motionless once more, hugging the cliff in seeming helplessness, apparently unable or unwilling to risk the return trip.
Fast as he ran, it took Dexter several minutes to cross the strip of open ground. But finally he neared the foot of the acclivity, and could appraise the difficulties that confronted him. The cliff, rising with vertical face to a height of a hundred feet or more, was formed of stratified rock—great slabs, lying one upon another, like a pile of unevenly stacked books. Edges of stone jutted out at frequent intervals to make narrow ledges, and there were interstices between the slabs that would enable a climber to mount from one broader resting place to the next, all the way to the top.
During occasional hunts for mountain sheep and goats, Dexter had clambered up more dangerous steeps than this. It was as though steps had been chiseled here in readiness for use. His only fear was of rotting rock. Stratification is caused by weathering and the crumbling away of stone in scales and veins; and in the process of erosion the projecting rocks are gradually pitted and undermined, and may break off at the lightest pressure. A great heap of these fallen fragments was banked against the foot of the precipice, but the corporal scrambled up over the pile, and presently stood under the shelf where the girl was crouching. He could see her white face peering over a ledge, seventy feet above.
"What's the matter?" he shouted.
"A step gave way and let me drop," she called down in a shaken voice. "I caught on here—just barely—and now I can't get up or down."
"Stay quiet, then," he commanded sharply. "I'll be with you in a minute."