Since
the birth of this continent, I was probably the first who had deviated
thus remotely from the customary paths of men. While musing upon these ideas, my eye was fixed upon the foaming
current. At length I looked upon the rocks which confined and
embarrassed its course. I admired their fantastic shapes and endless
irregularities. Passing from one to the other of these, my attention
lighted, at length, as if by some magical transition, on--a human
countenance! My surprise was so abrupt, and my sensations so tumultuous, that I
forgot for a moment the perilous nature of my situation. I loosened my
hold of a pine-branch, which had been hitherto one of my supports, and
almost started from my seat. Had my station been in a slight degree
nearer the brink than it was, I should have fallen headlong into the
abyss. To meet a human creature, even on that side of the chasm which I
occupied, would have been wholly adverse to my expectation. My station
was accessible by no other road than that through which I had passed,
and no motives were imaginable by which others could be prompted to
explore this road. But he whom I now beheld was seated where it seemed
impossible for human efforts to have placed him. But this affected me but little in comparison with other incidents. Not
only the countenance was human, but, in spite of shaggy and tangled
locks, and an air of melancholy wildness, I speedily recognised the
features of the fugitive Clithero! One glance was not sufficient to make me acquainted with this scene. I
had come hither partly in pursuit of this man, but some casual appendage
of his person, something which should indicate his past rather than his
present existence, was all that I hoped to find. That he should be found
alive in this desert, that he should have gained this summit, access to
which was apparently impossible, were scarcely within the boundaries of
belief. His scanty and coarse garb had been nearly rent away by brambles and
thorns; his arms, bosom, and cheeks were overgrown and half concealed by
hair. There was somewhat in his attitude and looks denoting more than
anarchy of thoughts and passions. His rueful, ghastly, and immovable
eyes testified not only that his mind was ravaged by despair, but that
he was pinched with famine. These proofs of his misery thrilled to my inmost heart. Horror and
shuddering invaded me as I stood gazing upon him, and, for a time, I was
without the power of deliberating on the measures which it was my duty
to adopt for his relief. The first suggestion was, by calling, to inform
him of my presence. I knew not what counsel or comfort to offer. By what
words to bespeak his attention, or by what topics to mollify his direful
passions, I knew not. Though so near, the gulf by which we were
separated was impassable. All that I could do was to speak. My surprise and my horror were still strong enough to give a shrill and
piercing tone to my voice. The chasm and the rocks loudened and
reverberated my accents while I exclaimed,--"_Man! Clithero!_"

My summons was effectual. He shook off his trance in a moment. He had
been stretched upon his back, with his eyes fixed upon a craggy
projecture above, as if he were in momentary expectation of its fall and
crushing him to atoms. Now he started on his feet. He was conscious of
the voice, but not of the quarter whence it came. He was looking
anxiously around when I again spoke:--"Look hither. It is I who called." He looked. Astonishment was now mingled with every other dreadful
meaning in his visage. He clasped his hands together and bent forward,
as if to satisfy himself that his summoner was real. At the next moment
he drew back, placed his hands upon his breast, and fixed his eyes on
the ground. This pause was not likely to be broken but by me. I was preparing again
to speak. To be more distinctly heard, I advanced closer to the brink. During this action, my eye was necessarily withdrawn from him. Having
gained a somewhat nearer station, I looked again, but--he was gone! The seat which he so lately occupied was empty. I was not forewarned of
his disappearance or directed to the course of his flight by any
rustling among leaves. These, indeed, would have been overpowered by the
noise of the cataract. The place where he sat was the bottom of a
cavity, one side of which terminated in the verge of the abyss, but the
other sides were perpendicular or overhanging. Surely he had not leaped
into this gulf; and yet that he had so speedily scaled the steep was
impossible. I looked into the gulf, but the depth and the gloom allowed me to see
nothing with distinctness. His cries or groans could not be overheard
amidst the uproar of the waters. His fall must have instantly destroyed
him, and that he had fallen was the only conclusion I could draw. My sensations on this incident cannot be easily described. The image of
this man's despair, and of the sudden catastrophe to which my
inauspicious interference had led, filled me with compunction and
terror. Some of my fears were relieved by the new conjecture, that,
behind the rock on which he had lain, there might be some aperture or
pit into which he had descended, or in which he might be concealed. I derived consolation from this conjecture. Not only the evil which I
dreaded might not have happened, but some alleviation of his misery was
possible. Could I arrest his footsteps and win his attention, I might be
able to insinuate the lessons of fortitude; but if words were impotent,
and arguments were nugatory, yet to sit by him in silence, to moisten
his hand with tears, to sigh in unison, to offer him the spectacle of
sympathy, the solace of believing that his demerits were not estimated
by so rigid a standard by others as by himself, that one at least among
his fellow-men regarded him with love and pity, could not fail to be of
benign influence. These thoughts inspired me with new zeal. To effect my purpose it was
requisite to reach the opposite steep. I was now convinced that this was
not an impracticable undertaking, since Clithero had already performed
it. I once more made the circuit of the hill. Every side was steep and
of enormous height, and the gulf was nowhere so narrow as at this spot. I therefore returned hither, and once more pondered on the means of
passing this tremendous chasm in safety. Casting my eyes upward, I noted the tree at the root of which I was
standing. I compared the breadth of the gulf with the length of the
trunk of this tree, and it appeared very suitable for a bridge. Happily
it grew obliquely, and, if felled by an axe, would probably fall of
itself, in such a manner as to be suspended across the chasm. The stock
was thick enough to afford me footing, and would enable me to reach the
opposite declivity without danger or delay.