I Then Ran Down The Edge For A Mile Or More Below The Point
Where I Had First Met It,
And found that its lower end also united
with the crevasse I had jumped, showing dismally that we were on
An
island two or three hundred yards wide and about two miles long and
the only way of escape from this island was by turning back and
jumping again that crevasse which I dreaded, or venturing ahead
across the giant crevasse by the very worst of the sliver bridges I
had ever seen. It was so badly weathered and melted down that it
formed a knife-edge, and extended across from side to side in a low,
drooping curve like that made by a loose rope attached at each end at
the same height. But the worst difficulty was that the ends of the
down-curving sliver were attached to the sides at a depth of about
eight or ten feet below the surface of the glacier. Getting down to
the end of the bridge, and then after crossing it getting up the
other side, seemed hardly possible. However, I decided to dare the
dangers of the fearful sliver rather than to attempt to retrace my
steps. Accordingly I dug a low groove in the rounded edge for my
knees to rest in and, leaning over, began to cut a narrow foothold on
the steep, smooth side. When I was doing this, Stickeen came up
behind me, pushed his head over my shoulder, looked into the
crevasses and along the narrow knife-edge, then turned and looked in
my face, muttering and whining as if trying to say, "Surely you are
not going down there." I said, "Yes, Stickeen, this is the only way."
He then began to cry and ran wildly along the rim of the crevasse,
searching for a better way, then, returning baffled, of course, he
came behind me and lay down and cried louder and louder.
After getting down one step I cautiously stooped and cut another and
another in succession until I reached the point where the sliver was
attached to the wall. There, cautiously balancing, I chipped down the
upcurved end of the bridge until I had formed a small level platform
about a foot wide, then, bending forward, got astride of the end of
the sliver, steadied myself with my knees, then cut off the top of
the sliver, hitching myself forward an inch or two at a time, leaving
it about four inches wide for Stickeen. Arrived at the farther end of
the sliver, which was about seventy-five feet long, I chipped another
little platform on its upcurved end, cautiously rose to my feet, and
with infinite pains cut narrow notch steps and finger-holds in the
wall and finally got safely across. All this dreadful time poor
little Stickeen was crying as if his heart was broken, and when I
called to him in as reassuring a voice as I could muster, he only
cried the louder, as if trying to say that he never, never could get
down there - the only time that the brave little fellow appeared to
know what danger was.
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