Crack, crack, in a dull heavy way, they kept being torn asunder, and it soon became evident that the bush was only held now by one of its stoutest roots. The soft earth showered down upon the panting man, and his muscles quivered under the tension to which they were exposed; but now he was able to rest his arms to some extent by clinging to the branches below him with his legs.
Was there no hope? Such a short distance to climb if the hazel stubb would only hold; but he dare now hardly move, for the slightest vibration brought down more earth, and, moment by moment, be expected to hear the final crack, and then to feel the rush of the air as he was hurried down into the black depths below.
It was very horrible, and so great was the strain upon his mind as well as muscles that for a moment he found himself thinking whether it would not be a relief to loosen his hold and fall into oblivion.
“When I have made my last effort!” something seemed to whisper to him, and with it came the thought that if he were merely clinging to the hazel stems over the side of a road by some woody bank, he would feel none of this paralysing fear. The task to win to safety would seem easy then. Why should it not now?
It was the triumph of mind over cowardice and ignorant fear; and rousing his energies, while there was yet time, he looked about for the means of safety.
Yes; there it was. He was no nearer the top than when he first made his attempt at escape. All he had done was to tear the hazel up by the roots, but it had bent down with it the bough of another stubb, a stout, tough-looking bough, belonging evidently to a hazel growing farther from the edge of the shaft. Could he reach that he might better his position, but the long, tough, thorny brambles that hung down swaying about were in his way, unless he could make use of them as ropes.
It was for life, and regardless of their cruel thorns he seized two in one of his hands and made a snatch higher towards the root of the stubb.
Another: clinging with his knees to the branches.
Another: and he had hold of the crumbling, mossy wood, some of which fell with a quantity of earth.
Another quick, sharp, despairing effort, and—joy! he had seized the fresh stout branch that had been bent down by the loosened stubb.