This daring and seemingly absurd proposal Don greeted with a stare of utter incredulity. “That would be facing death with a vengeance,” was his far from encouraging comment. “How high do you estimate the cliff to be, anyway?”
“A couple of hundred feet or so.”
Don laughed. “You may as well say thousands, so far as our chances of reaching the base in safety are concerned.. The thing's a sheer impossibility, I tell you; Bosin himself couldn't do it. You're downright mad to think of it, Jack.”
“Am I? I admit the difficulty, but not the impossibility. What Bosin can't do, we can.”
“How, I should like to know?”
“By making a rope. See here, did you notice those palm-trees we passed while making the round of the Rock?”
“I did; but 'pon my word I don't see what they've got to do with your proposal. Ropes don't grow on palm-trees.”
“Oh, but they do, though. Do you mean to say that you never saw the natives make a rope out of the branches of a palm?”
“Of course I have. And what's more, I know how it's done. But say,” his tone suddenly changing to one of anxiety, “suppose the palm-leaves don't give, us enough material?”
“I'm not sure they will,” said Jack doubtfully, “unless we spin it, out pretty fine; and that, of course, increases the danger of breakage. Well, if we run short, we can make shift with the blacks' clothes and turbans. But it's going to take a jolly long time to make—though we ought to finish it easily by to-morrow night. Then, ho for the cliff! And now, old fellow, just lie down, will you, and take a snooze: you're completely done up. When the moon rises I'll call you, and we'll have a whack at the trees, while Pug and Spottie do sentry-go.”