The Cliff Climbers Part 16

Once more the rope tightened--as before raising the log but very little from the ground--while the eagle, as if this time expecting the pluck, suffered less derangement of its flight than on the former occasion.

For all that, it was borne back, until its anchor "touched bottom."

Then after making another upward effort, with the like result, it appeared to become convinced of its inability to rise vertically, and directed its flight in a horizontal line along the cliffs. The log was jerked over the ground, bounding from point to point, occasionally swinging in the air, but only for a few seconds at a time.

At length the conviction forced itself upon the minds of the spectators--as it seemed also to have done upon that of the performer-- that to reach the top of the cliff--with a cord upon its leg, equal in weight to that log--was more than a bearcoot could accomplish.

In short, the plan had proved a failure; and, no longer hoping for success, our adventurers turned their disappointed looks upon each other--leaving the eagle free to drag his wooden anchor whithersoever he might wish.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

FURTHER EXPERIMENTS.

The usual silence which succeeds a disappointment was for some time preserved by the three individuals who had been spectators of the unsuccessful attempt of the eagle. Caspar seemed less cast down than the others; but why it was so, neither of them thought of asking him.

It was not a silence of very long duration, nor was the chagrin that had caused it of much longer continuance. Both were evanescent as the summer cloud that for a moment darkens the sky, and then glides off-- leaving it bright and serene as ever.

It was to Caspar the party was indebted for this happy change of feeling. An idea had occurred to the young hunter--or rather a new scheme--which was at once communicated to his companions.

Strictly speaking, Caspar's scheme could not be termed a _new_ one. It was only supplementary to that already set before them by Karl; and the bearcoot, as before, was to be the chief actor in it.

While calculating the length of rope it would take to reach to the top of the cliff, Caspar had already bethought him of a way by which it might be shortened--in other words, how it might be arranged, that a shorter rope would suffice. He had for some time carried this idea in his mind; but had declined communicating it, to the others, until after witnessing the test of the eagle's strength. Now that the bearcoot had been "weighed and found wanting," you might suppose that the creature would be no longer cared for--excepting to furnish them with a meal.

This was the reflection of Karl and Ossaroo; but Caspar thought differently. He was impressed with a belief, that the bird might still do them a service--the very one which he had undertaken so unsuccessfully.

Caspar reflected, and very correctly: that it was the extra weight that had hindered the eagle from ascending. It was not so much beyond his strength neither. Perhaps had it been only half as heavy, or even a little more, he might have succeeded in carrying it over the cliff.

What if the weight should be reduced?

To make the rope more slender did not enter into Caspar's calculations.

He knew this could not be done: since it was a point already discussed and decided upon.

But how if the rope were to be _shorter_, than that which had been theoretically considered? How if it were to be only fifty yards, instead of one hundred and fifty? Of course, then the eagle might fly with it, to whatever height its length would allow.

Caspar felt satisfied of this fact; nor did either of the others question its truth--but what then?

"What," inquired Karl, "would be the use of a rope of fifty yards, though the eagle might carry it up to the moon? Even at the lowest part of the cliffs--should the bearcoot take one end over, the other would be fifty yards above our heads?"

"Not a yard, brother--not a foot. The other end would be in our hands-- in our hands, I tell you."

"Well, Caspar," calmly rejoined the philosopher, "you appear to be confident enough; though I can't guess what you are driving at. You know this hideous precipice is at no point less than a hundred yards in sheer height?"

"I do," replied Caspar, still speaking in the same tone of confidence; "but a rope of only fifty--ay, of not more than half that length--may be held in our hands, while the other end is over the top of the cliff."

Karl looked perplexed; but the shikaree, on this occasion quicker of perception than the philosopher, catching at Caspar's meaning, cried out:--

"Ha, ha! young sahib meanee from top ob da ladder! Dat meanee he."

"Exactly so," said Caspar; "you've guessed right, Ossy. I mean just that very thing."

"Oh! then, indeed," said Karl, in a drawling tone, at the same time lapsing into a reflective silence.

"Perhaps you are right, brother," he added, after a pause. "At all events, it will be easy to try. If your scheme succeed, we shall not require to make any more cord. What we have will be sufficient. Let us make trial at once!"

"Where is the bearcoot?" asked Caspar, looking around to discover the bird.

"Yonner be he, young sahib," answered Ossaroo, pointing towards the precipice; "yonner sitee he--ober da rock."

The eagle was perceived, perched, or rather crouching, on a low ledge of the cliff,--upon which it had dropped down after its unsuccessful attempt at flight. It looked crestfallen, and as if it would suffer itself to be caught by the hand. But as Ossaroo approached it with this intention, the bird seemed to fancy itself free, and once more rose, with a bold swoop, into the air.

It was only to feel the check-string tighten afresh upon his leg. It came fluttering down again, first drawn back by the weight of the log, and afterwards by the strong arm of the shikaree.

The log was now removed; and the whole rope they had on hand--a length of rather more than fifty yards--was knotted in its place.

The bearcoot was again set free--Ossaroo taking care to keep the leash well in hand; and now the beautiful bird of Jove rose into the air, as if not the summit of the cliff, but the proud peak of Chumulari, was to be the limit of its flight.

At the height of fifty yards its soaring ambition was suddenly curbed, by the check-string of Ossaroo, reminding it that it was still a captive.

The experiment had proved successful. Caspar's plan promised well; and they at once proceeded to take the necessary steps for carrying it into practical effect.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

THE EAGLE'S ESCAPE.

The first thing to be done, was to look to the quality of the rope, and test its strength. The ladders were already in place, just as they had been left. The rope once _proved_, there would be nothing further to do, but make it secure to the shank of the bearcoot; ascend the cliff to the highest ledge, reached by the ladders; and then fly the bird.

Should they succeed in getting the creature to go over the cliff--and by some means entangle the cord at the top--they might consider themselves free. The very thought of such a result--now apparently certain--once more raised their spirits to the highest pitch.

They did not count on being able to "swarm" up a piece of slender cord of nearly fifty yards in length--a feat that would have baffled the most agile tar that ever "slung the monkey" from a topgallant stay. They had no thoughts of climbing the rope in that way; but in another, long before conceived and discussed. They intended--once they should be a.s.sured that the cord was secure above--to make steps upon it, by inserting little pieces of wood between the "strands;" and these, which they could fix at long distances, one after the other, would form supports, upon which they might rest their feet in the ascent.

As we have said, all this had been settled beforehand; and no longer occupied their attention--now wholly absorbed in contriving some way to prove the reliability of the rope, upon which their lives were about to be imperilled.

It was not deemed sufficient to tie the rope to a tree, and pull upon it with all their united strength. Karl and Caspar thought this would be a sufficient test; but Ossaroo was of a different opinion. A better plan--according to the shikaree's way of thinking--was one which had generated in his oriental brain; and which, without heeding the remonstrances of the others, he proceeded to make trial of. Taking one end of the rope with him, he climbed into a tall tree; and, after getting some way out on a horizontal branch--full fifty feet from the ground--he there fastened the cord securely. By his directions the young sahibs laid hold below; and, both together, raising their feet from the ground, remained for some seconds suspended in the air.

As the rope showed no symptoms either of stretching or breaking under the weight of both, it was evident that it might, under any circ.u.mstances, be trusted to carry the weight of one; and in this confidence, the shikaree descended from the tree.

With the eagle carried under his right arm, and the coil of rope swinging over his left, Ossaroo now proceeded towards the place where the ladders rested against the cliff. Karl and Caspar walked close after, with Fritz following in the rear--all four moving in silence, and with a certain solemnity of look and gesture--as befitted the important business upon which they were bent.

The new experiment, like the trial of the eagle's strength, did not occupy any great length of time. Had it proved successful, our adventurers would have been longer occupied, and in the end would have been seen triumphantly standing upon the summit of the cliff--with Fritz frisking up the snowy slope beyond, as if he intended to chase the great _ovis ammon_ upon the heaven-kissing crest of Chumulari.

Ah! how different was the spectacle presented on the evening of that eventful day! A little before sunset the three adventurers were seen slowly and sadly returning to their hut--that despised hovel, under whose homely roof they had hoped never to seek shelter again!

Alas! in the now lengthened list of their unsuccessful struggles, they had once more to record a failure!

Ossaroo, bearing the bearcoot under his arm, had climbed the ladders up to the highest ledge that could be attained. From it he had "flown" the eagle--freely dealing out all the cord in his possession. That was a perilous experiment for the shikaree to make; and came very near proving the last act in the drama of his life.

Thinking that the bearcoot would rise upward into the air, he had not thought of anything else; and as he stood balancing himself on that narrow shelf, he was but ill prepared for what actually came to pa.s.s.

Instead of soaring upwards, the eagle struck out in a horizontal direction, not changing its course till it had reached the end of its tether; and then not changing it, nor even pausing in its flight, but with the fifty yards of rope trailing behind it--which, fortunately for Ossaroo, he was himself no longer at the end of--it continued on across the valley towards the cliffs on the opposite side--the summit of which it would have no difficulty in attaining by following the diagonal line in which it was making that unexpected escape from the clutches of the shikaree.