Then, leaning over, with my short-handled axe I cut a step
sixteen or eighteen inches below, which on account of the sheerness of
the wall was necessarily shallow. That step, however, was well made; its
floor sloped slightly inward and formed a good hold for my heels. Then,
slipping cautiously upon it, and crouching as low as possible, with my
left side toward the wall, I steadied myself against the wind with my
left hand in a slight notch, while with the right I cut other similar
steps and notches in succession, guarding against losing balance by
glinting of the axe, or by wind-gusts, for life and death were in every
stroke and in the niceness of finish of every foothold.
After the end of the bridge was reached I chipped it down until I had
made a level platform six or eight inches wide, and it was a trying
thing to poise on this little slippery platform while bending over to
get safely astride of the sliver. Crossing was then comparatively easy
by chipping off the sharp edge with short, careful strokes, and hitching
forward an inch or two at a time, keeping my balance with my knees
pressed against the sides.
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