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Gilman, Charlotte Perkins, 1860-1935

"Herland"




CHAPTER 4

Our Venture

We were standing on a narrow, irregular, all too slanting little
ledge, and should doubtless have ignominiously slipped off and
broken our rash necks but for the vine. This was a thick-leaved,
wide-spreading thing, a little like Amphelopsis.
"It's not QUITE vertical here, you see," said Terry, full of pride
and enthusiasm. "This thing never would hold our direct weight,
but I think if we sort of slide down on it, one at a time, sticking
in with hands and feet, we'll reach that next ledge alive."
"As we do not wish to get up our rope again--and can't
comfortably stay here--I approve," said Jeff solemnly.
Terry slid down first--said he'd show us how a Christian
meets his death. Luck was with us. We had put on the thickest
of those intermediate suits, leaving our tunics behind, and made
this scramble quite successfully, though I got a pretty heavy fall
just at the end, and was only kept on the second ledge by main
force.


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