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Page 15:-
The difficulty of following this new route is acutely felt
by Thomas Idle. He finds the hardship of walking at all
greatly increased by the fatigue of moving his feet straight
forward along the side of a slope, when their natural
tendency, at every step, is to turn off at a right angle,
and go straight down the declivity. Let the reader imagine
himself to be walking along the roof of a barn, instead of
up or down it, and he will have an exact idea of the
pedestrian difficulty in which the travellers had now
involved themselves. In ten minutes more Idle was lost in
the distance again, was shouted for, waited for, recovered
as before; found Goodchild repeating his observation of the
compass, and remonstrated warmly against the sideways route
that his companions persisted in following. It appeared to
the uninstructed mind of Thomas that when three men want to
get to the bottom of a mountain, their business is to walk
down it; and he put this view of the case, not only with
emphasis, but even with some irritability. He was answered
from the scientific eminence of the compass on which his
companions were mounted, that there was a frightful chasm
somewhere near the foot of Carrock, called the Black Arches,
into which the travellers were sure to march in the mist, if
they risked continuing the descent from the place where they
had now halted. Idle received this answer with the silent
respect which was due to the commanders of the expedition,
and followed along the roof of the barn, or rather the side
of the mountain, reflecting upon the assurance which he
received on starting again, that the object of the party was
only to gain "a certain point," and, this haven attained, to
continue the descent afterwards until the foot of Carrock
was reached. Though quite unexceptionable as an abstract
form of expression, the phrase "a certain point" has the
disadvantage of sounding rather vaguely when it is
pronounced on unknown ground, under a canopy of mist much
thicker than a London fog. Nevertheless, after the compass,
this phrase was all the clue the party had to hold by, and
Idle clung to the extreme end of it as hopefully as he
could.
More sideways waking, thicker and thicker mist, all sorts of
points reached except the "certain point;" third loss of
Idle, third shouts for him, third recovery of him, third
consultation of compass. Mr. Goodchild draws it tenderly
from his pocket, and prepares to adjust it on a stone.
Something falls on the
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