My heart was drumming now, but terror held me to it--over this second ridge and downhill again.
I supposed myself but half-way down this slope, or only a little more, when in springing aside to avoid a low bush I missed footing altogether; went hurling down into night, dropped plumb upon another furze-bush--a withered one--and heard and felt it snap under me; struck the cliff-side, bruising my hip, and slid down on loose stones for another few yards.

As I checked myself, sprawling, and came to a standstill, some of these stones rolled on and splashed into water far below.
For a minute or so, at full length on this treacherous bed, I could pluck up no heart to move.

Then, inch by inch at first, I drew myself up to the broken bush and found beside it a flat ledge, smooth and grassy, which led inland and downwards.

I think it must have been a sheep-track.

I kept to it on hands and knees, and it brought me down to the head of a small cove where a faint line of briming showed the sea's edge rippling on a beach of flat grey stones.
My hip was hurting me, and I could run no farther.