“We’ve got the rope; but what are we going to fasten the end to when we go down?” Fred stopped short, and rubbed one ear.
“You hold it while I go down, and I’ll hold it while you go down.”
“I shouldn’t like to try that,” said Scarlett. “We’re not strong enough.”
“Nonsense! Not if we let the rope bite on the edge of the hole?”
“That would not do,” said Scarlett, decisively.
“I know, then,” cried Fred. “Come along.”
“No. Let’s go back and get an iron bar to drive down in the earth.”
“I’ve got a better way than that,” said Fred. “There’s a pole across the opening in that stone wall half-way up the hill. We’ll lay that across, and tie the rope to it.”
Scarlett nodded acquiescence, and they trotted on to the rough stone wall, built up of loose fragments piled one on the other, the gateway left for the passage of cattle being closed by a couple of poles laid across like bars, their ends being slipped in holes left for the purpose.