“Up here,” answered Wild Nat. “I’m dished, an’ would like yer distinguished consideration on the best way tew git out.”
The stranger looked up, and after taking a somewhat protracted view of the situation, called out:
“Well, you are in a not over-pleasant place. Been there long?”
“Ever since the night before last,” returned Nathan. “Can ye lend a feller a helpin’ paw?”
“Certainly,” replied the other, heartily; “but how is it to be done? Some sort of a rope is needed.”
“Sartin,” responded the trapper. “Must have one. Don’t scarcely think ye can step up here, nor I can’t step down. Ye can git a rope an’ let it down from above.”
“But the rope?” said the other. “If I had an ax I could peel some bark, and make one of that; but—”
“I’ve got one,” interrupted the trapper. “Thar it comes!”
The stranger took the hatchet, and tethering his horse, fell to work with a will. It was a long task, however, and the sun was not far above the mountain-tops when the rope was of sufficient length and stoutness for the purpose required.
“It’s done,” called out the laborer. “Half an hour longer, and you will be a free man. It will be no small task to climb the mountain.”