"There's naught to see, William.
It's to hear.

There was a noise.

Molly and I heard it, and then we lost it.

There it is again!" Fronting the cabin, beyond the maize field and the rich green grass and the placid stream, rose two hills, steep and thickly wooded, and between them ran a narrow, winding, and rocky pass.

Down this gorge, to the listening pioneer, now came a confused and trampling sound.
"It is iron striking against the rocks!" he announced.