When Sunni reached it, he crouched down in its shadow--the grayness behind the palms was spreading--and took the rest of his turban cloth from his waist.
Then he took off his coat, and began to unwind a rope from his body--a rope made up of all sorts of ends, thick and thin, long and short, and pieced out with leather thongs.

Sunni was considerably more comfortable when he had divested himself of it.

He tied the rope and the turban cloth together, and fastened the rope end to the old gun's wheel.

He looked over for a second--no longer--but it was too dark to tell how far down the face of the thirty-foot wall his ragged contrivance hung.

It was too dark as well to see whether the water rippled against the wall or not; but Sunni knew that the river was low.