s
if the dizzy height did not diminish. When he had climbed for a long
time and stopped, panting and suffering, the stars appeared to be as far
away as ever. He felt as if he ought to have been out of the ravine long
before, but the opening looked to be as unattainable as at the
beginning.

His whole experience was remarkable to that extent that it can be
explained only on the ground that the intense mental strain prevented
his seeing things as they were. He had subjected his muscles to such a
tension that he was obliged to pause every few minutes and rest. One of
his feet was scarified and bleeding, and the other only a little better.
When he looked upward his heart sank, for a long distance still
interposed between him and the ground above.

"I must have picked the place where the canyon is deepest," was his
despairing conclusion; "I feel hardly able to hang on, and would not
dare do what I did further below."

He now yielded to a curious whim. Instead of continually gazing at the
sky, that he might measure the distance remaining to be traversed, he
resolved not to look at it at all until he had climbed a long way. He
hoped by doing this to discover such a marked decrease in the space that
it would reanimate him for the remaining work.

Accordingly he closed his eyes, and, depending on the sense of feeling
alone, which in truth was his reliance from the first, he toiled
steadily upward. Sometimes he had to grope with his hands for a minute
or two before daring to leave the support on which his feet rested, but
one of his causes for astonishment and thankfulness was that such aids
seemed never to be lacking.

He continued this blind progress until his wearied muscles refused to
obey further. He must rest or he would drop to the bottom from
exhaustion. He hooked his right arm over the point of a rock, sat upon a
favoring projection below, and decided to wait until his strength was
fully restored.

He could not resist the temptation to look up and learn how much yet
remained to do.

Could he believe his senses? He was within a dozen feet of the top!

He gasped with amazement, grew faint, and then was thrilled with hope.
He even broke into a cheer, for the knowledge was like nectar to the
traveller perishing of thirst in the desert--it was life itself.

All pain, all suffering, all fatigue were forgotten in the blissful
knowledge. He bent to his work with redoubled vigor. If the supports
continued, his stupend