“Come ahead!” he directed. “Sing out when you start and let me know if I pull too hard.”
Dorothy switched off the light and slipped the torch down the back of her frock where it was caught in the blouse made by the line about her waist.
“Ready!” she called and grasping the taut rope, she started to shin up.
Almost immediately she was helped on her way by a steady pull on the line Bill was holding. The going was difficult but the knots held her and kept her from slipping. Notwithstanding aching arm and leg muscles, it was surprising how easily she was able to hoist herself upward with the added pull from above. The actual distance to be climbed was not so great, but it seemed unbelievably soon when her hands touched the tree trunk.
Bill called a warning. “Get a good purchase around the rope with your legs, then lift your arms—take hold of the branches on top of the trunk and heave!”
She felt a stronger pull on the rope; her hands grasped two upright branches and she was dragged upward and on to the tree. Bill caught her under her arms and swung her on to the rock. Then he picked her up bodily and carried her back a few yards from the edge of the chasm.
“Hurray! We’re up!” he gasped and let her down on solid ground.
Dorothy did not reply. For a moment speech was beyond her. She sank down on a boulder. After a little while she untied the rope that belted her and producing the electric torch, handed it to Bill.
“Snap on the light, will you?—while I take stock of the damage. I know I’m a wreck, but it’s just as well to learn the worst at once.”
“Rather rumpled,” he pronounced as he complied with her request. “Good night! You’ve only got one shoe!”