The face belonged, naturally, to Blueberry, who had been strolling down the mountain path and enjoying the apparent isolation by singing as loudly as he pleased, when his voice was unexpectedly joined by a hoarse, bestial harmony from down in the ravine. At first he was terrified, imagining some demon or harpy waiting to ambush him, but when he got onto his knocking knees and forced himself to peer over the dropoff, he saw the paunchy body of a man slouching off the edge of the cliff.
At Blueberry's shout, Gravor scrambled onto his stomach and clawed at the rock. He tore the nails and flesh from his fingers, but through his furious efforts managed to pull himself up the slope to where he had been.
Reassured that there were no demons or harpies and invigorated by the chance for heroics, Berry untied the rope that secured his pants -- wrapped several times around his waist just for emergencies like this -- and kicking his legs out from the legs of his pants, headed down the small goat track that Gravor had followed down the cliff and into his present predicament. Blueberry was quickly stymied by the segment of the trail that had collapsed under Gravor's feet and sent him sliding down the rock face. Gravor's current position was not far down, but there was no way to reach him. "How're you doing?" Blueberry called to the man. The body on the rock below remained silent. "I've got this rope here, but there's nothing to tie on to."
The body was silent for several seconds, then rasped a simple, "Help."
A few shrub roots protruded from the eroded bluff along the goat path, but nothing that would secure the rope. He scuffed the ground at the edge of the path to test its solidity, and a spray of grit spattered into the ravine. A timid groan rose from below. "Sorry," said Blueberry.
Berry sat on the ground and tied one end of the rope around his bare ankle. "I'm throwing you the rope," he yelled. He tossed the rope, but thought better of it the moment it left his hand. "Wait," he cried, pulling the rope back up. "I'm going to double-knot it."
Once confident the knot would hold, Berry tossed the rope again, just into Gravor's reach, and flopped onto his stomach. He entwined his hands in the roots at the side of the trail and braced himself.
At the other end of the rope, Gravor managed to rip one hand away from the face of the rock and grab hold. He twisted it several times around his forearm and clutched it so hard in his shredded hand that the blood saturated the rope fibers and streamed down his arm. "OK," he called up through gritted teeth.
"OK," Blueberry called back.
"OK," Gravor shouted again.
Blueberry waited a few moments. "OK, ready!" he yelled down.
"OK, pull me!"
Blueberry quickly assessed his situation. To pull on the rope, he'd have to let go of the roots, sit up, and thus be pulled over the cliff. "I can't!"
Gravor was beyond weeping. He lay slumped like a saddlebag against the incline, his entire weight suspended by the one arm and threatening to wrest it from its socket.
The weight on Blueberry's ankle was no less of a burden, and Berry began to wonder if he hadn't done something rash. He blinked away the beads of sweat that dripped from his eyebrows and yelled over his shoulder, "OK, together now!"
He flexed his calf and, screaming with exertion, brought his encumbered ankle up to his butt, then looped his other foot twice in the rope and pulled up again with that foot. Below, Gravor tried to pull himself as best he could, wrapping the slack around his forearm. Berry extended his first leg again, twisted it into the rope and pulled again. Thus, like a slow-motion swimmer, Blueberry, his face as red as a cherry, towed Gravor's bellowing carcass inch by inch up the steep incline.
When his hand reached the top, Gravor clambered onto the goat path in a burst of fury. He lay on top of the wheezing Blueberry, not thinking or seeing, only breathing, until he'd caught his breath enough to cry. The two men moaned and sobbed and rocked together on the ground until they spent the very last of their reserves and passed out in the dust and goat stool, still locked in their mutual embrace.
Near sunset, Gravor started awake. Berry's eyes, about three inches from his own, shrugged dreamily open.
"Hey, I know you!" Berry exclaimed through a pungent yawn.
Gravor frowned. "Are you wearing any pants?" he asked.
