On the southern slope of the Gorge below,five men were tiredly pounding on the black rock that carried the pillar above. Cracks had begun to form, but the stone still refused to break. A dozen men had sprawled on a nearby stone, surrounding a small bonfire. One could easily mistake them for dead if they did not occasionally move their limbs. Another dozen men with torches in hand stood in a loose circle around them, watching the scarcely lit rocky slopes vigilantly. The furious churning water could be heard from the rocky bottom of the slope.