In Quest of Gold; Or, Under the Whanga Falls

by Alfred St. Johnston

Gradually Alec hauled in inch after inch of the bridle. From his awkward position on the path, lying on his chest and leaning over the edge, he was not able to exert all his strength, so that it was very slowly that he was able to raise Geordie up. The sweat stood in great beads on his brow, not merely from the labour, which was great, but from his terrible anxiety lest these straps should break as the other pair had done under a lesser strain. But the leather held firm, and he blessed in his heart the man who had done that honest tanning.

Alec saw, with renewed terror, when Geordie's tightly clasped hands were almost within reach of his own, that a look of faintness began to steal over his face, and that the eyes, which had been so widely open in his agony, were gradually closing. If but for one instant insensibility overtook him he must loose his grasp of the reins and fall. The thought of this was too awful for contemplation, and was trebly terrible now that he was so nearly within his brother's reach.

"Hold on, Geordie. Hold on a minute longer, and I can reach you. Hold on, hold on, don't give way!" shouted Alec, his voice almost rising to a shriek as he saw the death-like look of faintness creeping faster and faster over Geordie's face.

Alec redoubled his already incredible exertions, straining every nerve till the tendons in his bare brown neck stood out like bars and the great swelling muscles on his arms and back seemed to turn to iron in their strength. Then, making one grand final effort, he held George's weight up by one arm alone, and stretching out the other seized his brother's wrist in a grasp of iron, just as poor Geordie's overtaxed strength gave way and his head rolled heavily to one side in total unconsciousness.

It was at this moment that Murri reached Alec's side; he had been some way ahead of the two boys, so that, although he stopped the moment he heard George's shriek, he had not been able to reach them before. It was fortunate that he came up when he did, for with George's dead weight hanging on to his outstretched arm Alec was quite unable to haul his brother back to the path; but with the assistance of the black boy he succeeded in raising the inanimate body of the senseless lad from his awful position, and in laying him in safety again on the rocky path.

It was only with difficulty that they revived the fainting boy; the mental shock and the bodily strain he had undergone in falling and holding himself up by his hands for so long were more than he could recover from at once. But in an hour's time the plucky fellow was sufficiently well to go on, though he shook as with a palsy.

"Don't speak of it; I can't bear to speak of it or think of it yet. Wait till we are away from this awful place," he had said, as soon as he could speak; so that no word was spoken until they had reached the top of the pass and left that frightful pathway, and had descended some little way down the gentle, wooded slopes of the other side, where, by the side of a little marshy pool, they camped for the night.

CHAPTER XII.
THE WHANGA.

After the terrible time he had passed through on the side of the precipice, when he and death had looked so sternly in each other's face, George's sleep was disturbed that night. Awful dreams, in which he was again swaying, at the end of the bridle strap, above the ravine, haunted his slumbers and drove away his rest. Once he had awakened himself with a shriek, and had sprung up with the sweat of terror bursting out upon him, as in his dream the straps had broken, and he had fallen through the depths of space. The cry also awakened Alec and Murri, who were sleeping by his side near the little fire they had made, for the air was very cold at night upon the mountains at the height at which they were.