For some time after their outfit was concealed among the rocks
Wabigoon sat with his mouth close to the old pathfinder's ear. Then he
returned to Rod.

"Muky understands. He has never seen or heard of a madman, and it is
hard for him to comprehend. But he knows--now, and understands what he
must do."

"Sh-h-h-h-h!"

"What is it?"

"I thought I heard a sound!" breathed Rod. "Did you hear it?"

"No."

The two listened. There was an awesome silence in the chasm now,
broken only by the distant murmur of running water, a strange,
chilling stillness in which the young hunters could hear the excited
beating of their own hearts. To Roderick the minutes passed like so
many hours. His ears were keyed to the highest tension of expectancy,
his eyes stared into the gloom beyond them until they ached with
his efforts to see. At every instant he expected to hear again that
terrible scream, this time very near, and he prepared himself to meet
it. But the seconds passed, and then the minutes, and still there came
no quick running of mad footsteps, no repetition of the cry. Had the
madman turned the other way? Was he plunging deeper into the blackness
of this mysterious world of his between the mountains?

"I guess I was mistaken," he whispered softly to Wabigoon. "Shall we