About a yard below Henrietta was a projecting piece of rock just large
enough for a man's foot to stand upon. The next moment Henrietta saw the
herdsman mount to this place. He himself was a good fathom in height and
his head reached up as far as Henrietta's hips. He looked up at her with
a friendly smile, as if he had merely come there to help her down from
her horse. Then he said to her in Roumanian: "_Noroc bun Domna!_" which
means "Good luck to you, my lady!" So even in this perilous situation it
occurred to him to say something pleasant.
"The horse took a false step, my lady," said he, "but all's well that
ends well. Prithee, mount upon my shoulder, this bush will not hold fast
much longer, it is only a juniper, its roots are weak." Henrietta's
heart failed her. This man surely does not imagine that he will be able
to carry her down on his shoulders.
"Come, my lady, don't be afraid, I can easily carry you down. Why I
often roam about like this after my kids when they fall into the
precipice; and you are no heavier than a young kid, I'm sure."
And then, with the hand that remained free, he plucked at the remainder
of the damaged bush. Henrietta perceived with astonishment that the
roots which had not snapped asunder beneath his weight were loosened
from the rock by the mere tug of the man's hand. But what was he going
to do with them?
The herdsman bade the lady fear nothing; no further accident could
happen, he said; then, sticking the torn out stump between his legs like
a hobby-horse and pressing it against the rock with one hand, he himself
turned his back to the mountain-side and suddenly, stretching his legs
wide apart, let himself glide down the shelving rock.
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