because he came up alongside us, put his arm around Mum's shoulders and gave her a sort of sideways hug. That made her stagger and nearly lose her footing, so that she hit his shoulder and they laughed a little.
By now, we had tracked to the right, away from thebank, and were onto a proper path. As this climbed, it grew narrower.
We all pressed on, especially when the Guide called back, “We can be at the top before nightfall, if we keep moving.”
“And then it's all downhill from there,” said Dad, and called forward to the Guide: “Do you reckon a day for coming down the other side?”
“Yes, yes, less than that. But the downhill part might be trickier.”
I didn't see how, and our spirits rose. Maybe only one more night out in the open, with our vitamin C tablets and porridge and mouthfuls of water.
Up, up we went, and I was hardly bothered that my sandals were starting to rub the old sore patches again. After the good breakfast we'd had, we decided not to stop for lunch—we hadn't much food left, and the path was becoming so narrow, there wasn't really anywhere to camp.
“It flattens out on the top,” the Guide called back, “so there will be a place for the fire tonight.”
We had come to the narrowest part of the path so far, so that you almost only had room for one foot in front of the other. There was a scrubby, sheer drop to the right, where the mountain plunged down into what looked like a bottomless gorge, and another, larger mountain loomed up beyond that. To the left, our mountain continued up, higher, above the path. The rocky outcrop, dotted with a few bent bushes, nearly knocked your shoulder as you passed. I found it easier going if I didn't look down.
I looked ahead to see how the donkey managed. She was now in the lead, as the safest one to check the way for us.
Under the packs her little rump was, I saw, narrower than any of us, except maybe for me. Her hocks almost bumped together, and her hooves were tiny, tip-tupping along on the hard rock.
“Maybe your wolf will bring us something else for tea tonight, eh, Tiger?” said Dad, always a big eater, and missing lunch more than the rest of us.
Suddenly, I saw the donkey tilt her head sideways,roll her big eyes and jump to the right with all four feet at the same time. I just had time to glance up at the rocky outcrop to see what had startled her, before I realized that she was almost over the edge.
Her front and back hooves on the right-hand side slithered off the path. Frantically, she managed to twist so that both front hooves were on the path, but in doing so lost her other back hoof over the edge. Her back end swung out over the gorge, so that for a second she seemed to be only touching the ground with her front feet. She let out a bray of fear.
We froze for a second. Then, as the dust whirled and the loose pebbles bounced away down the gorge, we realized that she was still there. Somehow, just the toes of her back hooves balanced on a jutting edge of loose rock.
The Guide rushed to her head, but there was no rope to grab. Instead, he threw one arm around the trunk of the nearest bush, which clung perilously to the edge of the path in the thin soil, and the other arm around her thin neck. He had her, but shewheezed and gasped, whether in fear, or because the Guide's viselike grip was throttling her, I didn't know.
Mum seized her spiky forelock, as she would have led a pony back in her home country, and braced herself on the path, but the Guide said urgently, “No, or at least, take the bush with your other hand, or she will take you over when she slips again.”
I didn't like the “when” instead of “if.” Mum and the Guide had the donkey, for the moment, but there was no way they could pull her up, and no way the donkey could pull herself up, with both hind feet balanced on rubble that would give way at any moment.
SIX
Dad, who had been standing thunderstruck, seemed to give himself a shake. “It's the packs,” he
By now, we had tracked to the right, away from thebank, and were onto a proper path. As this climbed, it grew narrower.
We all pressed on, especially when the Guide called back, “We can be at the top before nightfall, if we keep moving.”
“And then it's all downhill from there,” said Dad, and called forward to the Guide: “Do you reckon a day for coming down the other side?”
“Yes, yes, less than that. But the downhill part might be trickier.”
I didn't see how, and our spirits rose. Maybe only one more night out in the open, with our vitamin C tablets and porridge and mouthfuls of water.
Up, up we went, and I was hardly bothered that my sandals were starting to rub the old sore patches again. After the good breakfast we'd had, we decided not to stop for lunch—we hadn't much food left, and the path was becoming so narrow, there wasn't really anywhere to camp.
“It flattens out on the top,” the Guide called back, “so there will be a place for the fire tonight.”
We had come to the narrowest part of the path so far, so that you almost only had room for one foot in front of the other. There was a scrubby, sheer drop to the right, where the mountain plunged down into what looked like a bottomless gorge, and another, larger mountain loomed up beyond that. To the left, our mountain continued up, higher, above the path. The rocky outcrop, dotted with a few bent bushes, nearly knocked your shoulder as you passed. I found it easier going if I didn't look down.
I looked ahead to see how the donkey managed. She was now in the lead, as the safest one to check the way for us.
Under the packs her little rump was, I saw, narrower than any of us, except maybe for me. Her hocks almost bumped together, and her hooves were tiny, tip-tupping along on the hard rock.
“Maybe your wolf will bring us something else for tea tonight, eh, Tiger?” said Dad, always a big eater, and missing lunch more than the rest of us.
Suddenly, I saw the donkey tilt her head sideways,roll her big eyes and jump to the right with all four feet at the same time. I just had time to glance up at the rocky outcrop to see what had startled her, before I realized that she was almost over the edge.
Her front and back hooves on the right-hand side slithered off the path. Frantically, she managed to twist so that both front hooves were on the path, but in doing so lost her other back hoof over the edge. Her back end swung out over the gorge, so that for a second she seemed to be only touching the ground with her front feet. She let out a bray of fear.
We froze for a second. Then, as the dust whirled and the loose pebbles bounced away down the gorge, we realized that she was still there. Somehow, just the toes of her back hooves balanced on a jutting edge of loose rock.
The Guide rushed to her head, but there was no rope to grab. Instead, he threw one arm around the trunk of the nearest bush, which clung perilously to the edge of the path in the thin soil, and the other arm around her thin neck. He had her, but shewheezed and gasped, whether in fear, or because the Guide's viselike grip was throttling her, I didn't know.
Mum seized her spiky forelock, as she would have led a pony back in her home country, and braced herself on the path, but the Guide said urgently, “No, or at least, take the bush with your other hand, or she will take you over when she slips again.”
I didn't like the “when” instead of “if.” Mum and the Guide had the donkey, for the moment, but there was no way they could pull her up, and no way the donkey could pull herself up, with both hind feet balanced on rubble that would give way at any moment.
SIX
Dad, who had been standing thunderstruck, seemed to give himself a shake. “It's the packs,” he
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