“Ken, now's the chance,” said Dick, low and quick. “If you can only work loose! There's your rifle and mine, too. We could hold this fort for a month.”
“What can I do?” I asked, straining on my ropes.
“You're not fast to the rock, as I am. Rollover here and untie me with your teeth.”
I raised my head to get the direction, and then, with a violent twist of my body, I started toward him; but being bound fast I could not guide myself, and I rolled off the ledge. The bank there was pretty steep, and, unable to stop, I kept on like a barrel going down-hill. The thought of rolling into the spring filled me with horror. Suddenly I bumped hard into something that checked me. It was a log of firewood, and in one end stuck the big knife which Herky-Jerky used to cut meat.
Instantly I conceived the idea of cutting my bonds with this knife. But how was I to set about it?
“Dick, here's a knife. How'll I get to it so as to free myself?”
“Easy as pie,” replied he, eagerly. “The sharp edge points down. You hitch yourself this way—That's it—-good!”
What Dick called easy as pie was the hardest work I ever did. I lay flat on my back, bound hand and foot, and it was necessary to jerk my body along the log till my hands should be under the knife. I lifted my legs and edged along inch by inch.
“Fine work, Ken! Now you're right! Turn on your side! Be careful you don't loosen the knife!”
Not only were my wrists bound, but the lasso had been wrapped round my elbows, holding them close to my body. Turning on my side, I found that I could not reach the knife—not by several inches. This was a bitter disappointment. I strained and heaved. In my effort to lift my body sidewise I pressed my face into the gravel. “Hurry, Ken, hurry!” cried Dick. “Somebody's coming!”