Truly it was a horrible place, almost sheer, nor did we learn much, for beneath us, a hundred and twenty feet or more, the projecting bend cut off our view of what lay below.
So, feeling that our nerves would not bear a prolonged contemplation of that dizzy gulf, once more we set our faces to the ice and proceeded on the downward climb.

Now matters were more difficult, for the stones were fewer and once or twice we must slide to reach them, not knowing if we should ever stop again.

But the ropes which we threw over the angles of the rocks, or salient points of ice, letting ourselves down by their help and drawing them after us when we reached the next foothold, saved us from disaster.
Thus at length we came to the bend, which was more than half way down the precipice, being, so far as I could judge, about two hundred and fifty feet from its lip, and say one hundred and fifty from the darksome bottom of the narrow gulf.

Here were no stones, but only some rough ice, on which we sat to rest.
"We must look," said Leo presently.
But the question was, how to do this.

Indeed, there was only one way, to hang over the bend and discover what lay below.