I had to go on my knees to ascend the stair, and I could feel that the steps were wet.

It must be Laputa's blood.
Next I was out on the gallery which skirted the chasm.

The sky above me was growing pale with dawn, and far below the tossing waters were fretted with light.

A light fragrant wind was blowing on the hills, and a breath of it came down the funnel.

I saw that my hands were all bloody with the stains on the steps, and I rubbed them on the rock to clean them.