"We will soon have you down now. The tide is well up, and when it is deep enough to save you from falling upon the rocks in case anything should happen to the rope or your strength should give out, you will be saved any more bruises."
Pierre feared that Winslow could not get down the rope with one hand, in his present weak state.
Winslow had indeed become so reduced in energy as to be unable to act without the direction of Pierre.
Meanwhile, the oxen were backed close to where the rope reached the ground, and stood patiently in the water, now rising quickly towards their bodies. The cart was on the lower ground of the sloping beach of the cove. Pierre stood ready in the cart, reserving his strength for the final trial, and permitting Winslow to rest without fatiguing him with useless conversation.
"Get yourself ready," commanded Pierre, putting force into his words which rose above the increased sounds of the place.
Winslow slowly rose, obedient to the directing will of the old man.
"Lie down on the rock near the rope." The words were obeyed.
"Take the rope under you, and hold it with your hand." Painfully he followed the instruction.
"Move your body till your legs hang over the shelf." A few minutes passed away while Winslow slowly drew himself back, a few fragments of stone clattering down as he reached the position indicated by Pierre. Here he hung, his stronger hand holding the rope.
"Move your legs till the line is wound about them." As he complied the line was given a circling motion till it had wound about his legs and was held between them.