“Shall we call for help?”
“Not much use. Nobody to hear us. Besides, we can always do that if we have to. I think I see a way out of the mess. If we can't get up, perhaps we can get down.”
“Get DOWN?”
“Yes, it isn't all as steep as it is here. I believe we might sort of zig-zag down if we were careful. You hold on here just as you are; I'm going to see what it looks like around this next point.”
The “point” was merely a projection of the bluff about twenty feet away. He crawfished along the face of the slope, until he could see beyond it. Helen kept urging him to be careful—oh, be careful!
“Of course I'll be careful,” he said curtly. “I don't want to break my neck. Yes—yes, by George, it IS easier around there! We could get down a good way. Here, here; don't start until you take my hand. And be sure your feet are braced before you move. Come on, now.”
“I—I don't believe I can.”
“Of course you can. You've GOT to. Come on. Don't look down. Look at the sand right in front of you.”
Getting around that point was a decidedly ticklish operation, but they managed it, he leading the way, making sure of his foothold before moving and then setting her foot in the print his own had made. On the other side of the projection the slope was less abrupt and extended much nearer to the ground below. They zigzagged down until nearly to the edge of the steep drop. Then Albert looked about for a new path to safety. He found it still farther on.
“It takes us down farther,” he said, “and there are bushes to hold on to after we get there. Come on, Helen! Brace up now, be a sport!”