at one time, for ages and ages, water had flown down it and had left
a glossy coating upon its face.

Moreover, when he awkwardly dangled his rope into the abyss with one hand,
and kept his light upon it with the other, he found to his disappointment
that not even a single length would reach to the dimly-seen floor below.

He sat there for a while, chewing at a bit of jerked beef, trying to get
his strength back, racking his brains for a plan. But he could think of
nothing except getting back to Opal. Then, at last, with a sigh and maybe
a curse at the things that happen and maybe a bit of a prayer, he began to
tie a loop, lasso fashion, in his rope. Finding another spur of rock became
a problem. This ledge was smooth. But in time he found one and drew his
loop tightly about it. Rolling the knapsack up into a ball and tying it
securely, he threw it over the brink. Listening, he heard it land and
bounce two or three times. The gun was slung over his shoulder. The miner's
cap and lamp went back upon his head. He stuffed his pockets full of
ammunition and slid over the edge. Once he nearly lost his grip on the
single strand and slid downward for a yard or two with the rough coils
taking the hide off his palms. But he held on. And at last he was dangling
at the end of the rope like a plumb-bob. Carefully he tightened his grip
with his right hand and let go with the left. His shoulder creaked, and
fangs of pain struck at his wrist and elbow.

* * * * *

But he hung on. Playing the flashlight below him, he saw that the floor of
the crevice was still many yards away. It seemed to be of sand, but he was
not sure. Limestone could be deceiving. Putting the light back in his belt,
he began feeling along the wall. It was smooth. Finally, reaching down as
far as he could, he found a little hole scarcely large enough for one hand.
There was no time left to consider. Getting his fingers into it he turned
loose of the rope and dropped down. It felt as though his left shoulder was
tearing loose, but he held his grip. Kicking about he found a toe-hold in
the wall--and finally another grip for his hand.

In this way, Odin went down for nearly a dozen yards. But at last he could
find neither a grip for his hands nor a rest for his feet. He did not care
now. The pain in his shoulders was becoming unbearable. Taking one great
gulp of air, he released his hold on the wall and thrust his body out into
space.