Below yawned the black gulf, and at the bottom of it, far, far beneath, appeared a faint, white sheet of snow.

That is what I saw.
Think of it! Think of it! I crucified upon the ice, my heels resting upon a little ledge; my fingers grasping excrescences on which a bird could scarcely have found a foothold; round and below me dizzy space.
To climb back whence I came was impossible, to stir even was impossible, since one slip and I must be gone.
And below me, hung like a spider to its cord, Leo turning slowly round and round! I could see that rope of green hide stretch beneath his weight and the double knots in it slip and tighten, and I remember wondering which would give first, the hide or the knots, or whether it would hold till he dropped from the noose limb by limb.
Oh! I have been in many a perilous place, I who sprang from the Swaying Stone to the point of the Trembling Spur, and missed my aim, but never, never in such a one as this.

Agony took hold of me; a cold sweat burst from every pore.

I could feel it running down my face like tears; my hair bristled upon my head.

And below, in utter silence, Leo turned round and round, and each time he turned his up-cast eyes met mine with a look that was horrible to see.
The silence was the worst of it, the silence and the helplessness.