Yer hain’t no show;
Yer too dern patient’——ther hull raft
Just laffed, an’ laffed, an’ laffed, an’ laffed.”
“That will about do for this morning,” laughed Frank. “We will have breakfast now.”
That day Frank set about a systematic search for some method of getting into the Enchanted Valley, as he had called it. Having broken camp and packed everything, with the entire party he set about circling the valley. It was slow and difficult work, for at points it became necessary that one or two of them should take the horses around by a détour, while the others followed the rim of the valley.
Midday had passed when at last Merry discovered a hidden cleft or fissure, like a huge crack in the rocky wall, which ran downward and seemed a possible means of reaching the valley. He had the horses brought to the head of this fissure before exploring it.
“At best, it is going to be a mighty difficult thing to get the horses down there,” said Bart.
“We may not be able to do it,” acknowledged Merry; “but I am greatly in hopes that we can get into the valley ourselves at last.”
When they had descended some distance, Frank found indications which convinced him that other parties had lately traversed that fissure. These signs were not very plain to Bart, but he relied on Merry’s judgment.
They finally reached a point from where they could see the bottom and look out into the valley.