He took a few steps back and ran up and kicked it. Not easy to do in greaves. Nothing, the frame was solid. Good. He gripped the pole that had been the host of the rope and bucket. It bent alarmingly under his strength. He grimaced. Rushing off, he searched the outbuildings of the farm. There had to be something there he could use, anything. He let out a victorious shout when he found one of the things he was looking for in one of the larger, more intact sheds: a solid metal pole.