Книга только для ознакомления
. Gisella's hand shot out to a nearby boulder to steady her
balance, and her knees chattered together like teeth. "Hold on, hold
on!" cried Tas, latching onto one of the guy lines. He realized then
that the gully dwarves were squealing with delight, like children at a
spook show. As the wagon reached its equilibrium the dwarves stopped
sliding and the noise died down. Gisella swayed slightly, but was
relieved that she was still on her feet. The wagon swung gently on its
ropes, twisting slightly in the breeze.
"OK," said Gisella, swallowing a lump. "OK, that wasn't too
bad." Cupping her hands to her mouth, she hollered, "Now, Woodrow,
start letting it down. 'Nice and easy,' remember?"
"Lice and squeezies," grunted the dwarves in no particular
unison. With a hand on each of the horses' bridles, Woodrow started
walking them backward toward the cliff. After the first twenty-five
feet, Woodrow could no longer see the wagon and had to rely on Tas to
guide him from above, where he lay on a limb in the tree, watching to
make sure the ropes glided smoothly through the pulleys.
"OK... OK... slow it down a little... the back end is a little
high... oops, now the back is a little low ...still low... no, the
back is low... the back, the back!"
Gisella sprinted to the cliff. "What's happening?" she screamed,
and then she spied the wagon, about one hundred feet down the cliff.
One of the lines of gully dwarves had gotten ahead of the other. The
front end of the wagon was at least four feet higher than the back,
and still rising
|
