“Keep your eye on some of these rocks,” he gasped. “One of them’s just come away in my hand.”
“I’ll watch it.”
About a quarter-way up I came suddenly and unexpectedly to a four-foot ledge and I hoisted myself up on it, leaned my back against the cliff face and tried to get my breath back. I felt cold sweat on my neck and back. If I had known it was going to be this bad I would have tried the gates. It was too late now. It might be just possible to climb up, but quite impossible to climb down.
Kerman joined me on the ledge. His face was glistening with sweat, and his legs seemed shaky.
“This has cooled me off mountain climbing,” he panted. “One time I was sucker enough to imagine it’d be fun. Think we’ll get over the bulge?”
“We’ll damn well have to,” I said, staring up into the darkness. “There’s no other way now but to keep going. Imagine trying to climb down!”
I sent the beam of the flashlight searching the cliff face again. To our left and above us was a four-foot-wide crevice that went up beside the bulge.
“See that?” I said. “If we got our feet and shoulders against the sides of that opening we might work our way up past the bulge.”
Kerman drew in a deep breath.
“The ideas you get,” he said. “It can’t be done.”