zing his lamp, he cast its lights on what he had found, exclaiming
immediately, "Why, it is a child!"

The child still breathed, but so very feebly that Harry expected it to
cease every instant. Not a moment was to be lost; he must carry this
poor little creature out of the pit, and take it home to his mother as
quickly as he could. He eagerly fastened the cord round his waist, stuck
on his lamp, clasped the child to his breast with his left arm, and,
keeping his right hand free to hold the knife, he gave the signal agreed
on, to have the rope pulled up.

It tightened at once; he began the ascent. Harry looked around him with
redoubled care, for more than his own life was now in danger.

For a few minutes all went well, no accident seemed to threaten him,
when suddenly he heard the sound of a great rush of air from beneath;
and, looking down, he could dimly perceive through the gloom a broad
mass arising until it passed him, striking him as it went by.

It was an enormous bird--of what sort he could not see; it flew upwards
on mighty wings, then paused, hovered, and dashed fiercely down upon
Harry, who could only wield his knife in one hand. He defended himself
and the child as well as he could, but the ferocious bird seemed to aim
all its blows at him alone. Afraid of cutting the cord, he could not
strike it as he wished, and the struggle was prolonged, while Harry
shouted with all his might in hopes of making his comrades hear.

He soon knew they did, for they pulled the rope up faster; a distance
of about eighty feet remained to be got over. The bird ceased its direct
attack, but increased the horror and danger of his situation by rushing
at the cord, clinging to it just out of his reach, and endeavoring, by
pecking furiously, to cut it.

Harry felt overcome with terrible dread. One strand of the rope gave
way, and it made them sink a little.

A shriek of despair escaped his lips.

A second strand was divided, and the double burden now hung suspended by
only half the cord.

Harry dropped his knife, and by a superhuman effort succeeded, at the
moment the rope was giving way, in catching hold of it with his right
hand above the cut made by the beak of the bird. But, powerfully as he
held it in his iron grasp, he could feel it gradually slipping through
his fingers.

He might have caught it, and held on with both hands by sacrificing the
life of the child he supported in his left arm. The idea crossed him,
b