The darkness was increasing with every minute, but I
should have twilight for another half-hour, so I went into the chasm
(though by no means without fear), and resolved to return and camp, and
try some other path next day, should I come to any serious difficulty. In
about five minutes I had completely lost my head; the side of the rift
became hundreds of feet in height, and overhung so that I could not see
the sky. It was full of rocks, and I had many falls and bruises. I was
wet through from falling into the water, of which there was no great
volume, but it had such force that I could do nothing against it; once I
had to leap down a not inconsiderable waterfall into a deep pool below,
and my swag was so heavy that I was very nearly drowned. I had indeed a
hair's-breadth escape; but, as luck would have it, Providence was on my
side. Shortly afterwards I began to fancy that the rift was getting
wider, and that there was more brushwood. Presently I found myself on an
open grassy slope, and feeling my way a little farther along the stream,
I came upon a flat place with wood, where I could camp comfortably; which
was well, for it was now quite dark.
My first care was for my matches; were they dry? The outside of my swag
had got completely wet; but, on undoing the blankets, I found things warm
and dry within.
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