But when he came to the gulch's brim, I reckon

he paused for breath!

For breath at the brink! but—a white man

shrink, when a red had passed so neat?

I knew Phil Blood too well to think he'd turn

his back dead beat!

He takes one run, leaps up in the sun, and bounds

from the slippery ledge,

And he clears the hole, but—God help his soul!

just touches the tother edge!