And then, with a parting glance at the ancient skeleton, he turned
to the task of ascending the western wall of the canyon. Slowly
and with many rests he dragged his weakening body upwards. Again and
again he slipped back from sheer exhaustion and would have fallen
to the floor of the canyon but for merest chance. How long it took
him to scale that frightful wall he could not have told, and when
at last he dragged himself over the top it was to lie weak and
gasping, too spent to rise or even to move a few inches farther
from the perilous edge of the chasm.
At last he arose, very slowly and with evident effort gaining his
knees first and then staggering to his feet, yet his indomitable
will was evidenced by a sudden straightening of his shoulders and
a determined shake of his head as he lurched forward on unsteady
legs to take up his valiant fight for survival. Ahead he scanned
the rough landscape for sign of another canyon which he knew would
spell inevitable doom. The western hills rose closer now though
weirdly unreal as they seemed to dance in the sunlight as though
mocking him with their nearness at the moment that exhaustion was
about to render them forever unattainable.
Beyond them he knew must be the fertile hunting grounds of which Manu
had told. Even if no canyon intervened, his chances of surmounting
even low hills seemed remote should he have the fortune to reach
their base; but with another canyon hope was dead.
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