recently been completed and the scaffolding was still coiled round it all the way to the top like a monstrous snake. There was no smoke.
We reached the chimney in about fifteen minutes.
“Are you sure it’s two hundred and fifty feet?” said Chō looking up. “It doesn’t seem that high from here.”
“Come on and see,” said Kichikō. “You’ll get dizzy just standing down here staring at it.” He bent his head back and looked up to the top. “Imagine working up there, though,” he added. “They wouldn’t get me to work on a chimney like that for anything.”
We took off our coats and threw them on the ground next to the solid-looking brick foundation; then we removed our shoes and socks and wetted the palms of our hands with spittle. I put one foot on the rickety scaffolding and glanced back at the city: under the deep blue sky the roof-tops stretched out in solid black rows; they looked very safe.
Kichikō started climbing first; after him went the rotund Chō and finally myself. The steps were not built straight, but circled round the chimney in an endless looking spiral. The narrow iron rungs dug sharply into the soft soles of my feet.
I had not realized what this climb would be like. As the other two moved steadily upwards round the chimney, I gradually began to fall behind. When I had reached about the half-way mark, I suddenly felt I could not continue. By glancing down, I realized that it would be at least as hard to start going down. From now on, I forced every muscle in my body to continue climbing. My feet no longer hurt, but my legs were trembling uncontrollably and although I planted myself firmly on each rung, I had the uncomfortable feeling that at any moment my body would float off into space of its own accord.
The wind was blowing quite hard up here and I could hear some of the looser boards of the scaffolding clatter noisily. If just one of these flimsy rungs should slip or break, I’d lose
