The ranger moved away at a run, winding in and out among the bushes, leaping over little runlets and brushing through thick undergrowth; but his comrades kept pace with him, so that when he halted under a gnarled oak, whose great branches hung so heavily that he had to stoop to pass beneath them, the others were but a little way behind.
"Is this the place?" Herman asked, bending low to look for Engel, who was completely hidden.
"Yes. We'll waste no time now we are here," said the ranger. "Stand there awhile and get your breath," he said to Roye, who was panting with his run. "I will go first, and what I do you must copy."
Getting a foothold on the trunk of the tree, he climbed among the foliage and disappeared. Herman could hear him mounting, the rustle of the branches telling how he was moving.
"Art coming?" Engel asked presently, in a tone which warned the others to be cautious.
"I'm coming," Herman whispered back, but he turned to Roye. "You had better go next, then I shall know that you are safe. I am used to climbing trees, but possibly you are not."
"'Tis true," said the elder man, but he followed Engel, and before long word came in the darkness that he was safe.
When Herman stood with the others in the great fork, which formed a natural platform, the ranger dropped on his knees, and felt about in the darkness with his hand.
When he had found what he wanted, he began to descend into the body of the tree, the trunk proving to be hollow. The others could hear the sound of his feet, as though he stepped on iron. The fancy became reality when Engel produced a light, and while he held a lantern in his hand, they saw him below, waiting for them to follow.
"Put your feet on those irons, and hold tight with your hands, or you may get a nasty fall," he whispered, pointing to some iron loops which had been driven into the inside of the tree, forming what was equivalent to a ladder. Herman descended, feeling with his feet for footing as he went, Roye following closely.