The rope tied to the sling was undoubtedly for throwing or drawing the sling from one side of the chasm to the other; so Trim put the sling under his arms, hung the ring upon the hook and jumped with all his force out over the chasm.
The wheel in the pulley block worked easily along the rope, and he slid therefore rapidly toward the other side.
He was just about half way across the chasm when two white men suddenly appeared around the corner of the ledge on the opposite side and jumped down to the shelf where he intended to land.
They were armed with knives, and were as desperate looking characters as it had ever been his misfortune to meet.
They watched him coming with savage grins. There was no turning back for Trim; once started on that peculiar kind of journey, he was obliged to go as far as the pulley block would take him.
He uttered a loud scream and began to kick his legs about as if he were trying to stop the pulley. The men on the shelf roared with laughter.
They believed that Trim was frightened out of his senses. This was exactly what he wanted them to believe, and it was for that reason that he screamed and kept on screaming while the sliding block brought him nearer and nearer to the shelf.
It all took but a few seconds, and before the white savages had ceased to shake with laughter as they were thinking how their plucky enemy was overcome with fear, Trim was at the edge.
They reached out to grasp him, each extending one arm and holding the other back to strike with a knife.
Trim suddenly pulled himself up until his chin was level with the pulley block, at the same time doubling up his knees so that they touched his chin.