We had brought with us some coils of stout rope in order to assist us
in descending from the mountain heights into the valleys below, for I
did not place much reliance upon the fable of the eagles and the pieces
of fresh meat as a means to procure the rubies which it was said were
washed down by torrential rains at certain seasons. If rubies were to
be obtained, I argued, it must be by a more practical method than that
employed by Marco Polo's men. Besides, we had no fresh meat with which
to give Polo's experiment a trial.
After our recent brush with the natives these wild men gave us a wide
berth, and we saw no sign of them on our way to the mountains, to which
we came after two hours of walking. The sides of these mountains are
rocky, with no verdure of any kind upon them except a species of
stubble which grows in patches. When we came to the top of one of these
hills, we looked down a sheer cliff into the valley. I never before saw
any place so inaccessible to man. Nothing without wings, it appeared,
could descend into those depths. After exploring the mountains for the
best part of an hour, however, we came to a position where it was
possible, with caution, to descend for some distance, and by aid of our
rope, one end of which we fastened to rocks or stubble as opportunity
offered, we succeeded in reaching a cliff from which there was a drop
of not more than two hundred feet.
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