Presently, however, the ledge began to narrow again, and the only way to
tackle it was to flatten themselves, limpet-like, against the cliff face,
and claw their way onwards, gripping every possible little projection
which gave any sort of hand hold.
At last Roy pulled up.
'Capital!' he said. 'You're doing first-rate, Ken. That's as far as we can
go on this ledge. We've got to drop to the lower one now. Don't worry.
It's not as bad as that first drop we had to do last night.'
As he spoke, he stooped, gripped the edge of the ledge with his hands, and
let himself down gently. There was a knob of rock about seven feet down.
He got his feet on this, then reached up for the bayonet which Ken held.
As before, he jammed this into a crevice so as to give himself something
to hold by, then signalled Ken to follow.
Ken's heart was in his mouth. The projection seemed hardly large enough
for one pair of feet, let alone two. But when he reached it he found that
Roy had left it all for him.
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