“That’s the bit I like,” Kerman said, pointing. “Up there, where it curves out. Getting over that’s going to be fun: a tooth and fingernail job.”
“Maybe it’s not so bad as it looks,” I said, not liking it myself. “If we had a rope…”
“If we had a rope I’d go quietly away some place and hang myself,” Kerman said gloomily. “It would save time and a lot of hard work.”
“Pipe down, you pessimistic devil!” I said sharply, and began to edge up the cliff face. There were foot and handholds, and if the cliff hadn’t been perpendicular it would have been fairly easy to climb. But, as it was, I was conscious that one slip would finish the climb and me. I’d fall straight out and away from the cliff face. There would be no sliding or grabbing to save myself.
When I had climbed about fifty feet I paused to get my breath back. I couldn’t look down. The slightest attempt to lean away from the cliff face would upset my balance, and I’d fall.
“How are you getting on?” I panted, pressing myself against the surface of the cliff and staring up into the star-studded sky.
“As well as can be expected,” Kerman said with a groan. “I’m surprised I’m still alive. Do you think this is dangerous or am I just imagining it?”
I shifted my grip on a knob of rock and hauled myself up another couple of feet.
“It’s only dangerous if you fall; then probably it’s fatal,” I said.
We kept moving. Once I heard a sudden rumble of fall-ling rock and Kerman catch his breath sharply. My hair stood on end.