He accompanied every question with a change of position of his knees and arms, that he might be able when the time came to use his limbs.

It was little enough scope he had for any movement on that narrow ledge, but he lost no chance, and his self-imposed fidgets helped not only himself but Percy.
At last the roar on the cliffs changed into a surly soughing, and the gusts edged slowly but surely round behind the great buttress of the mountain.
"Percy," said Jeffreys, "we must try a move.

Can you hold yourself steady while I try to get up ?" Percy was wide awake in an instant.
"I can hold on, but my other arm is no good for scrambling." "I'll see to that, only hold on while I get up." It was a long and painful operation; every joint and muscle seemed to be congealed.

At length, however, by dint of a terrible effort, he managed to draw up his feet and even to stand on the path.

He kicked up the earth so as to make a firm foothold, and then addressed himself to the still more difficult task of raising the stiff and crippled Percy.
How he did it, and how he half dragged, half carried him back along the ledge to the firmer ground of the upper zigzag path, he never knew.