“And what is your plan?” inquired Alice, eagerly; for the child had unbounded belief in Corrie’s ability to do almost anything he chose to attempt, and Corrie knew this, and was proud as a peacock in consequence.

“I’ll get up on my knees,” said he, “and then, once on them, I can easily rise to my feet and hop to you, and free you.”

On this explanation of his elaborate and difficult plan Alice made no observation for some time, because, even to her faculties (which were obtuse enough on mechanical matters), it was abundantly evident that, the boy’s hands being tied firmly behind his back, he could neither cut the ropes that bound her, nor untie them.

“What d’ye think, Alice?”

“I fear it won’t do; your hands are tied, Corrie.”

“Oh! that’s nothing.  The only difficulty is how to get on my knees.”

“Surely that cannot be very difficult, when you talk of getting on your feet.”

“Ha! that shows you’re a—­I mean, d’ye see, that the difficulty lies here; my elbows are lashed so fast to my side that I can’t use them to prop me up; but if Poopy will roll down the hill to my side, and shove her pretty shoulder under my back when I raise it, perhaps I may succeed in getting up.  What say you, Kickup?”

“Hee!  Hee!” laughed the girl, “dat’s fuss rate.  Look out!”

Poopy, although sluggish by nature, was rather abrupt and violent in her impulses at times.  Without further warning than the above brief exclamation, she rolled herself towards Corrie with such good-will that she went quite over him, and would certainly have passed onward to where Alice lay—­perhaps over the cliff altogether—­had not the boy caught her sleeve with his teeth, and held her fast.

The plan was eminently successful.  By a series of jerks on the part of Corrie, and proppings on the part of Poopy, the former was enabled to attain a kneeling position, not, however, without a few failures, in one of which he fell forward on his face, and left a deep impression of his fat little nose in the mud.

Having risen to his feet, Corrie at once hopped towards Alice, after the fashion of those country wights who indulge in sack races, and, going down on his knees beside her, began diligently to gnaw the rope that bound her with his teeth.  This was by no means an easy or a quick process.  He gnawed and bit at it long before the tough rope gave way.  At length Alice was freed, and she immediately set to work to undo the fastenings of the other two; but her delicate fingers were not well suited to such rough work, and a considerable time elapsed before the three were finally at large.

The instant they were so, Corrie said, “Now we must go down to the foot of the cliff, and look for poor Bumpus.  Oh, dear me!  I doubt he is killed.”

The look of horror which all three cast over the stupendous precipice showed that they had little hope of ever again seeing their rugged friend alive.  But, without wasting time in idle remarks, they at once hastened to the foot of the cliff by the shortest route they could find.  Here, after a short time, they discovered the object of their solicitude lying, apparently dead, on his back among the rocks.