But he knew they had been cut there by hand, and, though age-worn, he recognized them as steps cut in the rock by the cliff-dwellers.

With a pulse beginning to beat and hammer away his calmness, he eyed that indistinct line of steps, up to where the buttress of wall hid further sight of them.

He knew that behind the corner of stone would be a cave or a crack which could never be suspected from below.

Chance, that had sported with him of late, now directed him to a probable hiding-place.

Again he laid aside his rifle, and, removing boots and belt, he began to walk up the steps.