Besides, if he was right, MacDonald would run into no danger in that direction.

Their menace was to the north--beyond the chasm out of which came the rumble and roar of the stream.

When Donald had disappeared up the slope he looked more closely at the rugged walls of rock that shut them in on that side.

He could see no break in them.

His eyes followed the dark streak in the floor of the plain, which was the chasm.