Some brothers were carrying unslaked lime from the kiln to the quenching troughs. When one of then reached the striking-place, where the mule drivers wait sitting on a stone bench for the fathers to meet them and unload, the basket slipped askew (from the mule’s back), and the brother tried to put it straight again but the mule shied, the basket was upturned by the operation of the Enemy, and both (man and beast) fell headlong into the precipice. The depth of the ravine is about ten fathoms. The basket was rent asunder and dragged away by the torrent, then in flood; but the brother came up with the donkey through the garden back to the monastery, safe and sound, giving thanks to the Lord together with all the others.
(transl. Leah Di Segni)