Dean knew he was being foolish beyond any measure of reason to venture even the short distance that would allow him to see beyond the overhang. His gloves, adequate for snow shoveling, were poor equipment to safely grasp a rope that supported his full weight. He wound the line around his left hand twice while playing it out with his right hand. He leaned back over certain death, a hundred bouncing, smashing, flying feet below. His sole security was the loop of this rope around his body, between his legs, across his back and over his shoulder, which he then grasped as if his life depended on it. Which it did.
In his mind's eye Dean could picture climbers rappelling downward in great lunges, covering many feet in long swings, reaching the bottom in but a few mad leaps into space. He forced the picture from his mind and leaned backward, testing the rope against his weight. He gave no thought to how he'd reverse the process and return to the ledge above.
"Shipton!" he continued to yell as he paid out more of the line, moving down the short but near-vertical slope of snow-covered rock, his eyes fixed above on the receding bank of trees and safety. Abruptly the scratching sound of the crampons beneath his feet told him he'd reached the first mounds of solid ice. Stomping harder, he tried to plant the spikes, as if gravity would bow to so meager a hold against its forces. He stole a glance downward for the first time but found he hadn't cleared the edge far enough to see below. Gingerly, he played out more rope and descended lower, the slope now near-vertical so the toe of his crampon bit into the rock-hard ice. Water dripped from above and tiny snowballs cascaded down the slope, bouncing off his un-helmeted head and under his collar as his line scoured the bank of snow above him.
He was startled by a voice below him, causing him to nearly lose his grasp with its closeness. Jerome Shipton was scarcely a dozen feet lower, off to his left.
"Did you bring my camera?" he asked as he smiled up at Dean. "This would make a hell of a picture."
"Shipton, climb back up! Your line may not be safe!"
"That was a onetime accident, buddy. This is another rope."
"Shipton, think about it!" Dean cried, struggling to maintain his precarious position. "The first rope was cut. Why not the second one, too?"
Shipton dismissed Dean's concern with a smile. "She wasn't that smart."
"Don't be stupid and take the chance! You've already fallen once!"