Then I found a cooler air blowing on the top of my prostrate skull, and I judged that we were approaching the scarp of a ridge.
Shalah's hand held me motionless.

He wriggled on a little farther, and with immense slowness raised his head.

His hand now beckoned me forward, and in a few seconds I was beside him and was lifting my eyes over the edge of the scarp.
Below us lay a little plain, wedged in between two mountains, and breaking off on one side into a steep glen.

It was just such a shelf as I had seen in the Carolinas, only a hundred times greater, and it lay some five hundred feet below us.

Every part of the hollow was filled with men.