Slowly down, down, sunk the Irishman, until half the distance was descended, and he looked at his feet to make sure of reaching their support. Carefully the rough vine slid through his hands, until at last he touched the edge of the table, and believing his support secure, he let go his hold, and stood at the mouth of the cavern.
As he looked in the twilight of the chasm, he saw something move, and instantly after, to his unbounded amazement, discerned two Blackfoot Indians!
“Begorra! but I didn’t dhrame that, either,” he muttered, as he prepared to defend himself as best he could.
CHAPTER X.
THE WONDERFUL CAVERN.
Teddy O’Doherty had no time to wonder how these red-skins had got there. It was sufficient to know that he was thrown among them, and that there was no retreat for either party.
The Irishman anxiously peered into the cavern to see how many foes he had, but was somewhat relieved to find that he had but two to combat.
“Begorra! if ye’d only lay aside yer wippons,” he muttered, “and take yer shillaleh like a Christian mon, I’d wilcome the chance that threw me in yer way, and as it is, whoop, hurrah! and come on, and the divil take yees!”
With which he executed a leap in the air, flipping one of his heels with the flat of his hand, and uttering a defiant whoop at the same time, as a challenge for his dusky enemies to advance to the encounter.
The two Indians were without guns, they having laid them down, no doubt, at some other place, but each possessed his tomahawk and knife. Teddy had his cuchillo also in his girdle, although it had not been left there with any thought that it would be called into requisition for any such purpose.