Only a fraction of a moment had we to find footing along the yellow cliff, when, with a cracking roar, the mass struck the slippery granite.

If we had been on that slope, our lives would not have been worth a grain of the dust flying in clouds above us.

Huge stones, that had formed the bottom of the slides, shot ahead, and rolling, leaping, whizzed by us with frightful velocity, and the remainder groaned and growled its way down, to thunder over the second fall and die out in a distant rumble.
The hounds had hung back, and were not easily coaxed down to us.

From there on, down to the base of the gigantic cliff, we descended with little difficulty.
"We might meet the old gray cat anywheres along here," said Frank.
The wall of yellow limestone had shelves, ledges, fissures and cracks, any one of which might have concealed a lion.

On these places I turned dark, uneasy glances.