"I went down after him. I had to, for I was his master, and besides, I
was a bit of an athlete then. I cried to him to hang on and not look
down. I clambered down the swaying trunk while my people held the ropes
at the top, and when I got near the man I saw what bad happened.
"He had twisted his ankles in the fall, and though he had got them out
of the ropes, yet they hung loose and quite obviously broken. I got as
near him as I could, and leaned over, and I remember seeing through
below his armpits the blue of the stream six hundred feet down. It made
me rather sick with my job, and when I called him to pull himself up a
bit till I could grip him I thought he was helpless with the same
fright. But it turned out that I had misjudged him. He bad no power in
his arms, simply the dead strength to hang on. I was in a nice fix, for
I could lower myself no farther without slipping into space. Then I
thought of a dodge. I got a good grip of the rope and let my legs
dangle down till they were level with his hands. I told him to try and
change his grip and catch my ankles. He did it, somehow or other, and
by George! the first shock of his weight nearly ended me, for he was a
heavy man. However, I managed to pull myself up a yard or two and then
I could reach down and catch his arms. We both got up somehow or other,
but it took a devilish time, and when they laid us both on the ground
and came round like fools with brandy I thought I should choke and had
scarcely strength to swear at them to get out.
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