We waited only for another glance at the guerrilleros; they were still at their posts, evidently unconscious of our movements. Rube’s cat-skin cap, cunningly adjusted upon the boulder, satisfied them that we were still at ours; and explained, moreover, the oddness I had observed about the upper story of the trapper.
Rube had now recovered wind; and gathering up the rope, we stole away over the table-summit to search for a place of descent.
On reaching the opposite side, we at once found what we wanted—a tree near the edge of the cliff. Many small pines grew upon the escarpment; and selecting one, we knotted the rope securely around its trunk.
There was yet much to be done before any of us could attempt the descent. We knew that the cliff was more than a hundred feet in vertical height, and to glide down a rope of that length is a trying feat, worthy the most expert of tars. None of us might be able to accomplish it: the first could be lowered down easily enough, and this was our intention; so might the second; but the last would have to glide down the rope without aid.
We were not long delayed by the contemplation of this obstacle: my comrades were men of quick thought; and a plan to get over the difficulty soon suggested itself.
Their knives were out in a trice: a sapling was procured, and cut into short pieces; these were notched, and tied at intervals along the rope. Our “Jacob’s ladder” was ready.
It still remained to make sure that the rope was of sufficient length. The knots had somewhat shortened it; but this point was soon settled, with like ingenuity.
A small stone was tied to one end, and then dropped over the cliff.
We listened: we heard the dull “thump” of the stone upon the prairie turf. The rope therefore reached to the ground.
It was again drawn up, the stone taken out, and the noose fastened around the body of Rube, under his armpits. He was the lightest, and for this reason had been chosen to make the first descent, as he would least try the strength of the rope—still a doubtful point. The ascent had not proved it—for in climbing up, but one-half of our weight had been upon it, our feet resting either against the cliff, or upon its ledges. On reaching the plain, Rube was to submit the rope to trial, before either Garey or I should attempt to go down. This he was to do by adding a large stone to his own weight—making both at least equal to that of Garey, who was by far the heaviest of the party.