While we were waiting I took my gun and tried to climb up high enough to see how much longer this horrible canon was going to last, but after many attempts, I could not get high enough to see in any direction.

The mountain was all bare rocks in terraces, but it was impossible to climb from one to the other, and the benches were all filled with broken rocks that had fallen from above.
By the time I got back to camp, Walton was dry and warm and could talk.
He said he felt better, and pretty good over his rescue.

When he was going under the water, it seemed sometimes as if he never would come to the top again, but he held on and eventually came out all right.

He never knew how he got to shore, he was so nearly dead when rescued.
The next morning Walton was so well we started on.

We were now very poorly armed.