Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1931-01-25

RUT we were forced to face It. p was Q
tremendous necessity.
Beginning not Immediately above the sunken
end Of the bridge, but little to one side, cut
n deep hollow ON the brink for my knees TO
rest In.
Then leaning over, with my short handled
AK I cut step IS or Is inches below, which on
account Of the sheerTiess OF the wall was
necessarily shallow. That step, however, was
wen made, its floor sloped slightly inward and
formed q gooa hold for my heels.
Then slipping cautiously upon it and crouch
ing as low as possible with my left side toward
the wan, I steAdied myself against the wind
with my left hand in q slight notch, while with
the right cut other similar steps and notches
On succession, guarding against losing balance
By glmttng OF the ak or by wind-gusts, for life
and death were in every stroke and In the
niceness Of finish Of every foothold.
After the end of the bridge was reached
chapped It down until 1 had made level
platform six or eight inches wide, and II was
trying thing to poise ON this little slippery
platform while bending over to get safely
aStride of the silver.
Crossing was then comparatively easy by
chipping on the sharp edge with short, careful
strokes, and hitching forward an inch or two
at time, keeping my balance with my knees
pressed against the sides. The tremendous
abyss on either hand studiously ignored.
To me the edge of that blue silver was then
all the world. But the most trying part Of the
adventure after working my way across inch by
inch and chipping another small platform, was
10 rise from the safe position aStride and TO cut
o step-ladder in the nearly vertical face OF the
wall-chipping, climbing, holding on with feet
and fingers in mere notches
At such times ones whole body is eye, and
common skill and fortitude are replaced by
power beyond our call or knowledge. Never
before had been so long under deadly strain.
How got up that cliff never could tell The
thing seemed to have been done by somebody
else
RUT poor Stickeen. the wee. hairy, sleekit
beastie, think of himl He began to cry.
and after taking piercing look at the tre-
mendous gulf ran away in desperate excite
ment, seeking some other crossing. BY the
time he got back, baffied of course, had made
q step or two
I dared not look back but he made himself
heard, and when he saw that I was certainly
bent on crossing he cried aloud in despair.
The danger was enough to daunt anybody, but
it seems wonderful that he should have been
able to weigh and appreciate it so justly.
When gained the other side he screamed
louder than ever, and after running back and
forth in vain search for a way OF escape ne
would return to the brink of the crevasse above
the bridge moaning and waiting as IL in the
bitterness of death.
Could this be the silent, philosCphic Stickeen?
shouted encouragement telling him the bridge
was not so bad as it looked, that ] had LETT It
nat and safe for his feet, and he could walk
It easily. But he was afraid to try. Strange
so small an animal should be capable Of such
big wise fears! ssss..
His natural composure and courage had
vanished utterly in a tumultuous storm Of fear.
Had the danger been less his distress would
have seemed ridiculous. But in this dismal
merciless abyss lay the shadow Of death.
So hidden before, he was now transparent
and one could see the workings of his heart
and mind like the movements Of clock cut
Of its case His voice and gestures, hopes and
fears. were so perfectly human that none could