lost to mortal sight in the dust and debris he carried below for a
shroud. Sounds of his striking--dull, leaden sounds, tremendous in the
all-pervading silence--came clearly up to the top. Then Van found his
feet could be rested on the shelf, and he let himself relax to ease his
arms.




CHAPTER III

A RESCUE

Beth had uttered that one cry only, as man and horse careened above the
pit. She now sat dumbly staring where the two had disappeared.
Nothing could she see of Van or his pony. A chill of horror attacked
her, there in the blaze of the sun. It was not, even then, so much of
herself and Elsa she was thinking--two helpless women, lost in this
place of terrible silence; she was smitten by the fate of their guide.

Van, for his part, looked about as best he might, observing his
situation comprehensively. He was safe for the moment. The ledge
whereon he was bearing a portion of his weight was narrow and crumbling
with old disintegration. The shrub to which he clung was as tough as
wire cable, and had once been stoutly rooted in the crevice. Now,
however, its hold had been weakened by the heavy strain upon it, and
yet he must continue to trust a part of his weight to its branches.
There was nothing, positively nothing, by which he could hope to climb
to the trail up above.