“I must do it,” muttered Lane, for he felt that if he kept on longer upon the upper edge, he must soon sink and perish from heat and exhaustion.
Knowing that if he stopped to think, he would grow less and less disposed to venture, and taking one long eager look at the green trees far below in the distance where there would be shelter and refreshing water, he gathered himself together, and walked slowly and steadily over the yielding ash and cinders to the beginning of the bridge.
Chapter Sixteen.
The Descent.
Hope came with the first step, for it was upon hard slippery rock, and gathering courage from this, the young naturalist kept one foot firm, and stamped with the other to try whether the rock was brittle and likely to give way.
But it seemed firm, and fixing his eyes upon the other side, Oliver drew himself up erect and walked boldly on to the narrow bridge, profoundly conscious of the fact that there, on either side where he dare not look, the walls went down almost perpendicularly into a gulf too awful to ponder on, even for a moment.
Onward slowly, step by step, with the glistening crisp bridge some yards wide where he started, but as he went on, it grew narrower and narrower, while the farther side of the gulf which had appeared so short a distance away when he was high up and looking down, now looked far-off to his swimming eyes.
The giddy feeling increased as he neared the middle, and then he stopped short, and dropped upon his knees. For suddenly, with the profound gulf on either side, there came a loud resonant crack, and a piece of the lava split away and fell.