oxes, and, calling to me, she had tried to raise the
tarpaulin to look beneath it. But in standing up to do so she
unfortunately missed her foothold on the slippery rock, and falling
backward was plunged into the stream; and this was all that she
knew, except that being swept along by the water and struggling to
keep afloat she happened to touch a rock at the side, and had there
held on until, as she had expected, I was able to help her.

Having thus far got out of the cave, there remained yet the
difficulty of climbing up the cliff in the twilight. If I could get
Thora as far as the rope, I felt that the rest would be
comparatively easy. But she was very weak and cold, and I feared
for the result.

Fortunately, the shelf of rock along which we had to pass was
sufficiently wide for us to walk along by clinging to the cliff.
This was done with great care, and when the rope was reached I
bound it several times round her waist and secured it firmly under
her arms. Being assured that she was then quite safe in her
position, I took hold of the higher part of the climbing line and
with its assistance scaled the crag.

When I reached the top I gave Thora the signal, and by hauling the
rope up with all my strength I helped her to ascend. It was a long
time ere I felt sure that she was safe, but at last I heard her
call out that she was all right, and I stretched my hand down to
her. She took hold of it, and I assisted her until she stepped once
more upon the soft turf, and then, still holding her hand, I led
her home, deeply thankful that our adventure had ended without
fatality.

Chapter XXVII. A Family Misfortune.

I must now tell you what happened on that afternoon while I was
away from my sheep, neglecting my work, and seeking useless
adventure in the North Gaulton cave. But I must go back to record a
conversation that took place at Lyndardy on that same morning, so
that you may understand the gravity of the misfortune which was the
result of my neglect.

We were sitting over our early breakfast, my mother, Jessie, and I,
discussing the family resources for the coming winter--a subject
that had given us much anxiety since the death of my father and
uncle. Our concern was intensified by the fact that our harvest had
not turned out so fruitful as had been anticipated; for the oats
were light in the grain and the potatoes diseased; and the expenses
incurred for repairs and improvements on the farm, had well-nigh