It might be ten feet, it might be a hundred--in any case enough to make the peril appalling.
Wilder had gone first, and soon bethought himself of a test.

He unslung his powder-horn and permitted it to drop from his hand, listening attentively.

It made scarce any noise; still he could hear it striking against something soft.

It was the brush thrown in by the Indians.
This did not seem far below; and the half-burnt stalks would be something to break their fall.
"I'll chance it," said Walt, and almost simultaneous with his words was heard the bump of his heavy body alighting on the litter below.
"You may jump without fear, Frank.

'Taint over six feet in the clar." Hamersley obeyed, and soon both stood at the bottom of the chimney--on the hearthstone where the stalks of the creosote still smouldered..