The Poor Plutocrats

by Mór Jókai

At last they came to a very bad spot indeed, where on one side of the road there was a sheer abyss, while the rocky mountain side rose perpendicularly on the other. The narrow path here ran so close to the rock that the rider had to bend her head aside so as not to knock it, and the horse could only go forward one foot at a time.

For an instant the horse stood still, as if weighing his chances on that narrow path; but, as there was no turning back now, he was obliged at last to go on.

Henrietta looked shudderingly down into the chasm below her, over which she seemed to hang suspended; and she thought to herself, with something very like a sob: what if we should stumble now!

The thought was scarcely in her mind when one of the horse's hind legs tripped, and the same instant horse and rider were precipitated into the abyss.

Henrietta never lost her head during the fall. She noticed everything that happened during the brief plunge, how the horse struggling desperately clattered down the mountain-side, how the saddle girth burst beneath the strain, how for a mere second some bush or shrub arrested the descent, and how the next instant the weight of the horse tore it down along with him. Finally, falling still lower and turning right round on its back the horse got wedged in between two rocks from which position he was fortunately unable to disengage himself, for had he fallen any further he would have been dashed to pieces.

Henrietta was quite conscious the whole time. Holding on with both hands to the roots of a bush with her left leg still in the stirrup (for saddle and stirrup also remained hanging in the bush) it occurred to her in this painful situation that she still had time to commend her soul to God and then face death more calmly. As to help, there was no hope of it, for the place was far away from all human dwellings; night would soon fall and the bush would presently yield beneath her feet—destruction was certain.

But while the lady neglected to call for assistance, the wedged-in horse did so all the more loudly. Supine and unable to free himself from his uncomfortable position, he repeatedly uttered that terrified scream which one never hears from this noble and reticent beast except in dire extremity. Whoever has heard such a cry will readily admit that it is far more terrible than any merely human appeal for assistance.

After a few moments it seemed to Henrietta as if a halloo were resounding from the depths below; looking down she perceived by the light of the moon a black shape leaping from rock to rock like a chamois, and gradually approaching the dangerous point where she hung.

Any efforts on this man's part seemed to her impossible. There was not a single visible gap or crevice in the face of the steep rock by means of which he could scramble up to her; and how could he help her, how could he liberate her, if he did manage to get at her?

Nevertheless the man drew nearer and nearer. She could by this time make out his goatskin cloak, his high broad cap, the clean shaved face peculiar to the mountain goatherds. His dexterity was as astonishing as the physical strength, with which he often raised himself on the tips of his toes in order to reach a cleft in the rocks, scarcely visible high above his head; often he could scarce hold on by the tips of his fingers, yet the next moment he would swing himself up with half a hand and, setting his foot in the cleft, look about for a fresh foothold.