But now a fresh terror stared us in the face. It will be remembered that
owing to Job's fear and awkwardness, the plank upon which we had crossed
from the huge spur to the rocking-stone had been whirled off into the
tremendous gulf below.
How were we to cross without the plank?
There was only one answer--we must try and _jump_ it, or else stop there
till we starved. The distance in itself was not so very great, between
eleven and twelve feet I should think, and I have seen Leo jump over
twenty when he was a young fellow at collage; but then, think of the
conditions. Two weary, worn-out men, one of them on the wrong side of
forty, a rocking-stone to take off from, a trembling point of rock some
few feet across to land upon, and a bottomless gulf to be cleared in a
raging gale! It was bad enough, God knows, but when I pointed out these
things to Leo, he put the whole matter in a nutshell, by replying that,
merciless as the choice was, we must choose between the certainty of a
lingering death in the chamber and the risk of a swift one in the air.
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