In time the Indians would surely explore both branches of the ravine, and if the cunning savages should suspect their presence in the shaft there would be no hope for them.

These thoughts decided them to come to a stop as soon as they could find foothold.
About thirty feet from the top they found this, on a point of rock or ledge that jutted horizontally.

It was broad enough to give both standing room, and as they were now in the midst of amorphous darkness, they took stand upon it.
The Indians might at any moment arrive on the platform above.

They felt confident they could not be seen, but they might be heard.

The slightest sound borne upwards to the ears of the savages might betray them, and, knowing this, they stood still, scarce exchanging a whisper, and almost afraid to breathe.
It was not long before they saw that which justified their caution--the plumed head of a savage, with his neck craned over the edge of the aperture, outlined conspicuously against the blue sky above.