Neither Dick nor Crusoe moved, for the sounds came from behind the heights in front of them, and they felt that the only way to solve the question, "What can the sounds be ?" was to wait till the sounds should solve it themselves.
Suddenly the muffled sounds gave place to the distinct bellowing of cattle, the clatter of innumerable hoofs, and the yells of savage men, while at the same moment the edges of the opposite cliffs became alive with Indians and buffaloes rushing about in frantic haste--the former almost mad with savage excitement, the latter with blind rage and terror.
On reaching the edge of the dizzy precipice, the buffaloes turned abruptly and tossed their ponderous heads as they coursed along the edge.

Yet a few of them, unable to check their headlong course, fell over, and were dashed to pieces on the rocks below.

Such falls, Dick observed, were hailed with shouts of delight by the Indians, whose sole object evidently was to enjoy the sport of driving the terrified animals over the precipice.

The wily savages had chosen their ground well for this purpose.
The cliff immediately opposite to Dick Varley was a huge projection from the precipice that hemmed in the gorge, a species of cape or promontory several hundred yards wide at the base, and narrowing abruptly to a point.

The sides of this wedge-shaped projection were quite perpendicular--indeed, in some places the top overhung the base--and they were at least three hundred feet high.