“Very beautiful, Nat,” said my uncle at last, “but the floor here is rather damp; I am tired and hungry; and we have to get out. Which way shall we try?”
“Not go back, uncle,” I said quickly. “Let’s get into the sunshine again.”
“Certainly; but how? We can’t wade any farther without risk of drowning. What do you say, Cross?”
“Yonder’s an awful pit, sir,” said the carpenter.
“I could climb over the stones at the side there,” said Pete suddenly.
“Well, I think it possible,” said my uncle. “But where’s that rope?”
“I’ve got it here, sir, round me,” said Pete.
“Well, we’ll make one end fast round you, and pay out the line as you climb, so that we can haul you in if you fall into the deep water. Will you try?”
“Oh, yes, sir; I’ll try,” cried Pete.
We made for the side, to find it slightly shallower, and after knotting the rope round his waist, Pete was started up the rocks, which proved, in spite of their threatening appearance much less difficult than we had anticipated, so that in a few minutes the lad had climbed to the level of the top of the falls, where he stood on a broad shelf, and by the help of the rope hauled up our baskets and satchels.