Both boys had been silent and awe-stricken, gazing wonderingly on the impressive scene and thinking of their adventures in New Orleans and in Florida, when a faint cry seemed to float upward from the depths of the valley.
They listened, and some moments passed in silence, save for the peeping cry of a bird in a thicket near at hand.
"Begorra! Oi belave it wur imagination, Frankie," said the Irish lad, at last.
"I do not think so," declared Frank, with a shake of his head. "It was a human voice, and if we were to shout it might be—— There it is again!"
There could be no doubt this time, for they both heard the cry distinctly.
"It comes from below," said Frank, quickly.
"Roight, me lad," nodded Barney. "Some wan is in difficulty down there, and' it's mesilf thot don't moind givin' thim a lift."
Getting a firm hold on a scrub bush, Frank leaned out over the verge and looked down into the valley.
"I can see her!" he cried. "Look, Barney—look down there amid those rocks just below the little waterfall."