We are being pursued;
There is only one way to run:
Towards the cliff.
After that, we have to find a way Down.

The first reaches the edge:
She ties off a rope
To A rock
At
	The Edge.

She quickly descends
Followed
	By
		The others.

I look behind me;
\They are gaining.

One by one
			We vanish
		Over
	The
Edge.

I am last.
I let them ahead.
Fear is nothing to me-
There are worse things
	Than Death.

They are coming Fast,
Too Fast,
And I am at the Edge.

Quickly my brain shouts,
‘Untie the rope!’
If I left it,
They would
	Follow.

The only thing I can do:
	Jump.
	Fall.
They are nearer.

I call down to him,
‘catch me!’
He is transfixed

As I turn to face
	Our foes
	And
		With
			A Gleam
		In My
	Eye
I find myself grinning.

I lean back

			And
				Fall;
			Praying
		That
	He
Catches
	Me.