By dint of working down, clinging like lichen to the shale surface, Jeb reached the animal whose hoofs stuck pathetically upward. He carefully scraped away the shale and exposed the head of a man. He could not say whether the victim was alive or dead, and he dared not dig away more shale, just then, or the whole side would begin to move again. Having cleared the head so the man could breathe, if possible, he looked anxiously around for the second rider. Not a sign of him was seen from the place where Jeb clung.
Believing that one live man was worth two dead ones, Jeb returned to the task of unearthing the one he had found. Every slab of shale was slowly removed, meanwhile Jeb watched the loose sides above him for the least intimation that it might slide again. But so careful was he, that the body was uncovered without the surrounding shale being disturbed. Jeb felt of the man's heart and found a very slight pulsation there. He was alive!
But how to get his feet free from the leather on the horse, and how to carry the big heavy fellow up that treacherous side? Jeb never lost his presence of mind, nor did he ever feel unduly excited over what he thought could not be helped; had he known what a fatalist was, he would have told you that that is what he was.
He sat perfectly still, because the unwary movement of a single muscle might move that mountain-side down upon him, but he could think and what could hinder him from doing it? As if the very discovery that he was superior in that way, to the senseless shale all about him, made him master of the situation, so he smiled and patiently waited.
"'Cuz Ah knows Polly and Miss Nolla'll get word to Mis'r Brews'er an' he'll know what to do fer us." So he sat and waited.
It's all well enough to say, "Oh, he wouldn't do anything else. Any one could have waited!" But how many would have waited in that same situation, without a qualm of fear, or without doubting the simple assurance that the master of the ranch would know best what to do to help?
As if to reward this faith, Jeb soon heard voices shouting back and forth above his head, and after a time, he saw the noose of a stout rope falling down in his direction.
He grinned. "Ah never thought of that!" murmured he.
"Jeb," came the deep tones of Mr. Brewster from above, "try to fix this safely around you, and then see if there is anything down there that you can do. Shout up if you want help, and we will try to let another man down to work with you."
Jeb soon had the rope about his body, and feeling free to dig, went to work to pull the unconscious man out of the saddle. The side that the dead horse had fallen upon pinned the man's one leg down so securely that Jeb could not manage to extricate it without help. So he held on to the body he had thus far brought out from the shale, and then called up to his master.