But Rollitt did not think of danger, and therefore perhaps did not meet it.

In half an hour he was down on the bog--and in an hour after, just as a faint break in the east gave warning that the night was gone, he stood bruised and panting at the foot of the gorge on the second ridge.
He was too dispirited to shout now.

It had not been given to him after all to rescue his friend.

He would have done better if he had never-- There was a big boulder just ahead, poised almost miraculously on its edge, on the sloping hill-side.

It looked as if a moderate blast of wind would send it headlong to the bottom.