"Not exactly. Wait and I'll show you."
He walked forward a few steps further and turned to the right, approaching a large stone that looked heavy enough to require the strength of a Hercules to stir it. Nevertheless, with one hand he turned it aside, it being so nicely poised that there was no trouble in using it as a door on hinges. Drawn back, the astonished whites saw the entrance to a cave beyond. The indications were that, at some remote time, the stones had been placed in position by a party of aborigines of the country, and used by them as a retreat or dwelling.
"It is the very place," said Rosa; "for I have been inside."
"You? When?" asked her brother.
"Lena-Wingo brought me here one day last fall, when we were caught in a storm in these mountains!"
"What kind of a place is it?"
"There could be no better one for us. I thought of it this morning, and spoke to Lena-Wingo about it."
"What did he say?"
"He replied that he would probably take us here, if he found we had to keep out of sight for awhile."
"That is well, then. Mr. Worrell has done for us what the Mohawk meant to do later in the day."