The river rushed furiously through its bed along the ninety foot cliff.  The treacherous rapids made it impossible to reach the small island against the base of the cliff.  John and Bill were going to lower me down the cliff to the island with a rope.

            The edge of the cliff sloped for ten feet at an angle of eighty degrees and then dropped straight down for the rest of the way with a few small juts, crevices, and bumps.

            I lay down at the edge and inched my way over , feet first.  "Keep the rope tight." I said  "Don't lower me unless I say to."

            "Right." answered Bill, "Are you sure you want to go down?"

            "I think so ..., All right, give me a little rope." I said.  I started to glide down the eighty- degree slope.  "Why was I doing this?  What was there to gain?  I was going to chisel my name into the bottom of the cliff.  I would be famous, the only person to set his foot on that island.  But that would only show what a fool I am to risk my life like this." I thought to my self.

            My feet felt the beginning of the drop off.  "hold it." I yelled.

            I looked to see if it was the edge.  "Holy cow, it's a long way down ... I'm falling!!!  No, it's just the height that makes me think so." I said to my self.  "I can still go back up.  Nobody will call me chicken.  Nobody else has ever done it.  I told my girl friend I would, I won't look down any more until I'm there."

            "OK, lower away." I shouted to Bill and John.   The edge of the drop crept up my legs, and into my stomach as I descended over the drop.  As the edge scraped against my hands, they began to hurt.  I could see the cuts on my hands as I dangled, finally over the edge.

            There will be no more foot holds now.  Every thing depends on Bill and John.  For eighty feet I would be depending on them.  Could they hold me?" I wondered.  "Would the rope hold?  The ROPE!!!  It could be cut through by the very rocks that had just cut my hands.  But I can't stop.  the edge is at least ten feet above me now."

            "How are you doing?" called John.

"Fine," I lied as more skin was scraped from my hands.  There were rocks sticking out of the cliff that couldn't be seen from the opposite side of the river.

            I had been going down for a long time when my feet met the ground.

            "I'm on the bottom" I yelled as loud as I could.  Then I turned to take a step.  "Holy cow, I'm still thirty feet from the bottom."  A foot wide ledge was my pedestal over thirty feet of emptiness.  "Tighten the rope you guys."

            After John and Bill understood my situation and I had regained my composure, they started to lower me again.  The ledge scraped still more skin from my knuckles as I passed.  Blood trickled down my arm.

            "At last!! I'm safe.  I'm on the bottom."   No false ledges.  I see and hear the swift river beside me.  "Tie the rope to something while I put my name in the wall." I shouted with joy.

            It took me half an hour to chisel into the rock wall.  When my name was finished, I thought. "I'm the first.  My name is in the wall as a memento to my heroic deed."

            "John, Bill, start pulling me up." I shouted.  The rope tugged and then lifted my feet off the ground ... but no further.

            "Come on!  Pull!" I hollered, my voice beginning to strain.

            "It's no use, we can't budge you.  You weight too much." was the answer.

            "But you can't do this to me."  I said as goose pimples burst out all over me.  "How am I going to get back?  The river is too swift to swim."

            "Do you see that tree leaning over the river on the other bank?" yelled Bill, If we can chop it down so it will fall over to the island, you can climb across it.  We'll go down to the bridge and come back on the other side of the river.  I've got an ax so we can cut it down."

            "OK, but hurry." I said. 

            Then there was silence and I began to think of things that happened to me when I was just a kid.  I don't know why these things came to my mind.

            Then I saw the dark clouds in the sky.  Immediately, I realized the danger.  "If it rains, the river will swell.  I'll drown in the currents.  Oh, My Lord, what have I done?  Please don't let me die ...  What's taking Bill and John so long to get back?"  I made an Act of Contrition with all the force of my heart.  If I were going to die, I was going try to save my soul first.  You don't think of God in the same way when you say your prayers in a church or someplace where you are reasonably safe.  When you think you are going to die, you realize the power of the Lord.

            Bill and John came into sight up the river around a bend.  They reached the tree and Bill immediately began to chop.  He and John took turns chopping.  After a great while, the tree began to sway.  Then I heard a crack.  My heart fell into my stomach as the tree fell into the river, almost twenty feet downstream from the island.  The currents pulled it even further from me.  Chills ran up and down my spine and I began to sweat.  All I could hear was a huge roar.

            It was several minutes before I realized that I wasn't sweating.  It was rain.  The roar was thunder.  I looked up stream at the swelling river then at my name engraved into the wall,  hung my head and waited .........

 

                                                -- Bob Kuhns