And soon half a dozen similar silhouettes beside it, while they could hear distinctly the talk that was passing overhead.
Wilder had some knowledge of the Comanche tongue, and could make out most of what was being said.

Amidst exclamations that spoke of vengeance there were words in a calmer tone--discussion, inquiry, and conjecture.
From these it could be understood that the pursuers had separated into two parties, one following on the false track, by the path which the guide had baited for them, the other coming direct up the right and true one.
There were bitter exclamations of disappointment and threats of an implacable vengeance; and the fugitives, as they listened, might have reflected how fortunate they had been in discovering that unfathomed hole.

But for it they would have already been in the clutches of a cruel enemy.
However, they had little time for reflection.

The talk overhead at first expressed doubts as to their having descended the shaft, but doubts readily to be set at rest.
The eyes of the Indians having failed to inform them, their heads were withdrawn; and soon after a stone came tumbling down the cavity.
Something of this kind, Wilder had predicted; for he flattened himself against the wall behind, and stood as "small" as his colossal frame would permit, having cautioned his companion to do the same.
The stone passed without striking them, and went crashing on till it struck on the bottom below.
Another followed, and another; the third creasing Hamersley on the breast, and tearing a couple of buttons from his coat.
This was shaving close--too close to be comfortable.

Perhaps the next boulder might rebound from the wall above and strike one or both of them dead.
In fear of this result, they commenced groping to ascertain if the ledge offered any better screen from the dangerous shower, which promised to fall for some time longer.
Good! Hamersley felt his hand entering a hole that opened horizontally.
It proved big enough to admit his body, as also the larger frame of his companion.