There I hung while my feet were towed outwards by the volume of the stream as if they had been dead leaves.

I was half-stunned by the shock of the drip on my head, but I kept my wits, and presently got my face outside the falling sheet and breathed.
To get to my feet and stand on the spike while all the fury of water was plucking at me was the hardest physical effort I have ever made.
It had to be done very circumspectly, for a slip would send me into the abyss.

If I moved an arm or leg an inch too near the terrible dropping wall I knew I should be plucked from my hold.

I got my knees on the outer face of the spike, so that all my body was removed as far as possible from the impact of the water.

Then I began to pull myself slowly up.
I could not do it.