khaki shorts and pulled off his chukka boots. On the tip of the cliff he
leaned out backwards with the rope draped over his shoulder and the tail
brought back between his legs in the classic. absed style.
'Coming in on a wing and a prayerP he said, and jumped out backwards
into the chasm. He controlled his fall by allowing the rope to pay out
over his shoulder, braking with the turn over his thigh, swinging like a
pendulum and kicking himself off the rock wall with both feet. He went
down swiftly until his feet dangled into the rush of water, and the
current pushed him into a spin on the end of the rope. He was a few
yards short of the spur of rock on which the dead dik-dik lay, and he,
was forced to let himself drop into the river. With the end of the rope
held between his teeth he swam the last short distance with a furious
overarm crawl, just beating the current's attempt to sweep him away
downstream.
He dragged himself up on to the island and took a few moments to catch
his breath, before he could admire the beautiful little creature he had
killed. He felt the familiar melancholy and guilt as he stroked the
glossy hide and examined the perfect head with the extraordinary
proboscis. However, there was no time now for regrets, nor for the
searching of his hunter's conscience.
He trussed up the dik-dik, tying all four of its legs together securely,
then he stepped back and looked up. He could see Boris's face peering
down at him.
'Haul it up!' he shouted, and gave three yanks on the rope as the agreed
signal. The trackers were hidden from his view, but the slack in the
rope was taken up and then the dik-dik lifted clear of the island and
rose jerkily up the wall of the chasm. Nicholas watched it anxiously.
There was a moment when the rope seemed to snag when the carcass was
two-thirds of the way to the top, but then it freed itself and snaked on
up the cliff.
Eventually the dik-dik disappeared from his sight, and there was a long
delay until the rope end dropped back over the tip. Boris had been
sensible enough to weight it with a round stone the size of a man's
head, and he was hanging over the top of the cliff, watching its
progress and signalling to his men to control the descent.
When the end of the weighted line touched the surface of the water it
was just out of Nicholas's reach. From the top of the cliff Boris began
to swing the line until the end of it pendulumed close enough for
Nicholas to grab it.
With a bowline knot Nicholas tied a loop in the end of the line and
slipped it under his armpits. Then he looked up at Boris.
'Heave away!' he yelled, and tugged the dangling rope three times. The
slack tightened and then he was lifted off his feet. He began to ascend
in a series of spiralling jerks and heaves. As he rose, the belled wall
of the chasm arched in to meet him, until he could fend off from the
rock with his bare feet and stop himself spiralling at the end of the
rope. He was fifty feet from the top of the cliff when suddenly he
stopped abruptly, dangling helplessly against the rock face.
'What's going on?' he shouted up at Boris.
