Haig and Trixy turned in the air, struck the chute of stones and sand, and rolled over and over as they 246 went down in a flying slide of débris. But Haig did not know that, for his head struck a stone at the first contact with the chute.
Sentience returned to him through mists of pain. He lay in a twisted heap on a patch of grass, surrounded by the scattered detritus of the cliff. At first he could not remember, and could not see. His head rang with pain, and his eyes were filled with dust, and with something wet. He managed presently to lift an arm and wipe his eyes with his hand; and saw dimly that the hand was covered with blood. His eyes then filled again; and he swept his sleeves across them and his forehead. That was better. Blinking, and wiping his face again and again, he looked dully around him until memory came back, and brought recognition of his plight.
He tried to sit up, but sank down quickly with a groan. One leg was bent almost double under the other, and would not move. This fact struck him at first as very queer––an inexplicable phenomenon. Then he tried it again. His left leg moved at his will, and that encouraged him. His right hip and part of the thigh too moved, but the leg below lay loose and dead.
The blood was in his eyes again. It exasperated him; he could do nothing unless he were able to see. He wiped his face again with his sleeve, then put his hand to his head, and winced a little as the fingers touched a gash just above the left temple, from which the blood still flowed. By turning his head he found that the blood ran down away from his eyes instead of 247 into them. The new position also gave him a view of several things that held his attention.
First there was the clutter of stones around him. Then his eyes swept upward to the ledge whence he had come rolling down––how far? He calculated the distance curiously. Eighty feet––a hundred, surely. How did he come to be still alive? he wondered. And Trixy! Where was she.
Once more he tackled the problem of sitting up, and it became easier now in his full understanding of his condition. By ignoring the dead leg entirely, since it was of no further use to him, he contrived to raise himself with his hands on the ground behind him for support. Then with a jerk that brought a cry of pain, he sat erect, swaying but resolute. At this instant he heard a soft whinny behind him. Twisting himself around, he saw Trixy lying some twenty feet away, with her forelegs doubled up beneath her, and her head lifted and pointed toward him. He studied the little mare a moment.
“Trixy! Get up!” he commanded suspiciously.
She lifted her head higher, made a desperate effort to rise, sank back, and whinnied piteously.
“So! Yours too, eh! Nice fix, Trixy!”