The roaring falls drowned all other sounds, yet the man roused from his dreamy contemplation of the waterfall when Joe rounded the corner.
"I heerd four shots," he said, as Joe came up.
"Yes; I got a squirrel for every shot." Wetzel led the way along a narrow foot trail which gradually wound toward the top of the ravine.

This path emerged presently, some distance above the falls, on the brink of a bluff.

It ran along the edge of the precipice a few yards, then took a course back into densely wooded thickets.

Just before stepping out on the open cliff Wetzel paused and peered keenly on all sides.

There was no living thing to be seen; the silence was the deep, unbroken calm of the wilderness.
Wetzel stepped to the bluff and looked over.