172 CHAMOIS HUNTING. 



to seize on every little inequality, regardless of the sharp 

 edges : but as my fingers, bent convulsively like talons, 

 scraped the stone, it crumbled off as though it had been 

 baked clay, tearing the skin like ribbons from my fingers, 

 and cutting into the flesh. Having let go my pole, I 

 heard it slipping down behind me, its iron point clang- 

 ing as it went ; and then it flew over the ledge, bound- 

 ing into the depth below : in a moment I must follow it, 

 for with all my endeavours I was unable to stop myself. 

 I knew the brink must be near, and expected each second 

 to feel my feet in the air. Xavier, who by some means 

 or other had got higher, looked round when he heard my 

 stick rebounding from the rocks, and saw my position. 

 To help was impossible, — indeed he might himself slip, 

 and in another moment come down upon me. He looked 

 and said nothing, awaiting the result of the next second 

 in silence. 



I had made up my mind to go over the brink, and 

 thought all was lost, when suddenly one foot, as it still 

 kept trying to hold by something, was stopped by a little 

 inequality, arresting me in my descent. I was very 

 thankful, but still feared the piece of rock against which 

 my foot leaned might crumble like the rest, and let me 

 slip further. Hardly venturing to move, lest the mo- 

 tion might break it off, I gently turned my head to 

 see how near I was to the brink : my foot had stopped 

 not a couple of inches from the edge of the rock, — but 

 thus much further, and I should have gone backwards 

 over it. The depth of the fall was not enough to have 

 killed me, but quite sufficient to break a leg or arm and 

 a rib or two. Slowly and with the utmost caution I 

 lifted my rifle higher behind my back, and, hardly ven- 

 turing even to do so, drew one knee up and then the 

 other, and again crawled forwards. 



