Accordingly Walford was once more laid upon the rock, with Tom to watch him and guard against any possible mishap, whilst George went off upon an exploring expedition.
He first tried to the left, passing along the ledge very cautiously, with his face turned to the wall, so that he might not again be exposed to the terrible temptation from which he had so recently escaped. At first he had great hopes of success, the ledge beginning to slope upward as he passed along it to the eastward; but when he had traversed some fifty yards or so, it suddenly narrowed away to nothing under a projecting angle of the superimposed sandstone, and in endeavouring to get a glimpse round this angle, the soft material crumbled in George’s grasp, he lost his hold, staggered, reeled, struggled ineffectually to recover his balance, and fell. For a single instant he gave himself up as lost, and suffered in anticipation all the agonies of a frightful death; but he had not fallen more than six feet, when his outstretched hand encountered a long, stout, flexible twig, or rather a young tree, shooting out from an interstice in the rocks. He grasped it with the iron grip of a drowning man, grasped it with both hands, and, though it bent double with his weight, it held out bravely, and enabled him to regain his footing on the face of the precipice. In another moment he had scrambled once more on to the ledge, where he lay panting, breathless, with torn and bleeding hands, but safe.
The appalling peril from which he had thus a second time so narrowly escaped, inflicted a terrible shock on George’s nerves, and it was some time before he could find courage to once more raise his head and look about him. The reflection, however, that two men, one of them utterly helpless, were in the same perilous situation as himself—having indeed been brought directly into it by him—helped him to once more recover the command of his nerves, and, somewhat ashamed of their unexpected weakness, he scrambled to his feet and set out to explore in the opposite direction.
By the time that he had once more reached the point where Tom sat patiently awaiting him, the dusk was closing down upon the landscape with all the rapidity peculiar to the tropics, and, shrouded as they were in the deep shadow of the precipice, it was already difficult for them to see each other clearly. This meant still another danger added to those which already confronted them, and George felt that, unless a way of escape could quickly be found, they would be compelled to remain where they were all night, a prospect which involved so many horrible contingencies that he dared not allow his mind to dwell upon it, but, turning his attention strictly to the matter in hand, hurried away on his quest to the westward.
In this direction he was more successful, the ledge, at a distance of some thirty yards, running into a steep earthy slope, some ten or a dozen yards in height, above which the precipice again rose sheer to the top. And, as far as he could see in the quick-gathering darkness, this precipice again presented a rocky face, up the inequalities of which it might be possible for them to climb.
But a single glance was enough to assure George that the most perilous portion of their journey still lay before them. In the first place, the slope was frightfully steep, rising at an angle of fully fifty degrees from the horizontal; and, in the next place, it was covered with a long thick growth of grass, rendering its face almost as slippery as ice. And its lower edge terminated abruptly in a vertical overhanging face, similar to that which towered above the place where he had left Tom and Walford, so that, should either of them slip in traversing this dangerous part of their journey, they must all, lashed together as they were, inevitably slide and roll helplessly down and over the edge into the depths below.
As George contemplated the fearful dangers attending their further progress, the idea occurred to him that perhaps, after all, now that their pursuers had gone, and the ground was left clear below, it would be better to retrace their steps and endeavour to find another and more practicable way out of the ravine.
But a few seconds’ consideration of this plan convinced Leicester of its utter impracticability. They had, by superhuman exertions, succeeded in climbing up the precipice; but he knew that they could never get Walford safely down again. There was nothing for it, then, but to go on, and upward, even though they should find their pursuers awaiting them at the top, a contingency which so much lost time rendered only too probable.
Before going back, however, and attempting the passage up that awful slope, encumbered with Walford’s helpless body, George thought it would be prudent to essay the passage alone, so that he might learn, from actual experience, the full extent of the danger, and thus be the better able to guard against disaster.
Accordingly down he went upon hands and knees, and forthwith began the ascent. His first attempt proved to him that he had in no wise magnified the perils of the journey, for his knees slipped helplessly from under him the moment that they touched the grass, and it was only by clinging desperately with his hands to the long tough herbage that he escaped being shot down to the bottom and over the edge.