So, like such a helpless boat, it was dashed forward, and shot out of sight over the precipice.
Whither had it gone?
Into what abyss had it fallen?
What lay beneath that point over which it had been thrown?
Was it the fierce torrent that rolled there, or were there black rocks and sharp crags lying at the foot of the awful precipice?
Such were the questions which flashed through every mind, and deepened the universal horror into universal despair.
In the midst of this general dismay Ethel was the first to speak and to act.

She started to her feet, and looking back, called in a loud voice: "Go down after her! A thousand pounds to the man who saves her! Quick!" At this the drivers came forward.

None of them could understand English, and so had not comprehended her offer; but they saw by her gestures what she wanted.

They, however, did not seem inclined to act.
They pointed down, and pointed up, and shook their heads, and jabbered some strange, unintelligible patois.
"Cowards!" cried Ethel, "to leave a young girl to die.

I will go down myself." And then, just as she was, she stepped from the sled, and paused for a moment, looking down the slope as though selecting a place.