Number in series 70; Year of publication 1986 - Fell and Rock ...

156 THE MAN WHO BROKE THE NEEDLEto begin too soon; and they didn't; and that was that....After all, it was not too bad. I lay recovering in an anteroom, and read theobituaries in last week's Cumberland News, and sucked the hole with my tongue.And the first minute I felt good enough, I tottered out into the Keswick marketplace and caught the Seatoller bus.The Styhead track on a fine fresh October day would put anyone on his feet.When I arrived below the Napes the others weren't visible, but I heard theirvoices above. So I lay out on the Dress-Circle, and began probing that infernalhole again — it's queer, your tongue won't give a place like that any peace — andstared at the old Needle.The Needle has been compared with lots of things; but what it most remindedme of, just then, was a great tusk of a molar. It seemed the very thing for today— appropriate, and a nice heartening job of work, and not too long if I tired. Sobefore long, when the other two came down off Eagle's Nest, we crossed thegully and began to scramble up to our rock. The Doc led it, by the ridge; and Icame second on the rope, and Ron brought up the rear.You'll know the ridge-route, of course? In the old days, one used the centralcrack; and the crack's still the merriest way down, you just slide, like downbanisters. But the ascent's not so popular. The footholds were always slim; andthey've been worn so smooth, and you're so liable to jam your leg and have toleave your boot behind, or perhaps even your breeches, that a lot of modest menrather jib at it, and prefer to go upstairs by the ridge. From the main crack youedge out horizontally, on rather sketchy holds with a long drop beneath; butonce you're there, you'd be surprised how much less difficult it is than it looked.The ridge is jagged and sharp, with a belaying pin the size of a cricket bathalfway up; and at the top, a regular armchair of an anchorage, where you canbrace your feet across a gap and safeguard the next man. Then comes a scrambleup some easy rock to the shoulder; and there, trouble begins.You're on a broad step — lots of room for three of you; and your next job is tosurmount a smooth little wall, on which the summit-block stands. It's like amantelshelf— they call it The Mantelshelf— a long ledge, chin-high, and fourinches deep. You can catch hold of it, and then press upon it, to put your kneeswhere your hands are; and the whole problem would be simple enough, if onlyyou had more room. Try climbing any ordinary mantelshelf and you'll find outwhat I mean. You want to lean well forward across the shelf, but the top wallwon't let you. You must perform the trick erect, like a toy monkey; only themonkey's nailed on to the stick, and you're not. At home, you could catch holdof something like a picture-rail; but here there's nothing at all.My turn came when the Doctor was perched on top, out of sight; and I justcouldn't make it! Three times I pressed up on the shelf; but when I tried tosquirm a good knee on to it, I conked out and slid back. Ron mocked at me,from the ledge: 'What's your weight, G.S.'I said: 'The dentist asked me that. I'm hay-hee-ho, less a few ounces for the326