There could be no disputing this decision, and all waited for Fred to make known his plan.
It was very simple, though of course attended with peril: he proposed that the grape-vine which had served him so well should now be used to assist each to the bottom of the ravine, where, in the deep shadow that prevailed, they would do their utmost to steal out into the open wood, and so pass over the mountain.
It seemed impossible to do this without detection from the Indians, who were besieging the fugitives, but desperate as was the risk, no one hesitated. In fact, Habakkuk McEwen proposed that he should go first.
"I can look around and see whether everything is all right; and if it isn't, I'll let you know, and you needn't come."
"Instead of being the first, you'll be the last," said Mr. Brainerd, curtly.
Habakkuk thought it not worth while to argue the matter, and he replied not to the severe stricture of the elder.
Fred Godfrey now ventured to the mouth of the cavern, where the vine was still dangling, the lower end being invisible in the darkness below.
From the platform in front of the cavern to the bottom of the ravine was something like twenty feet—not a very great distance, but too great for any one to let himself drop to the flinty floor below.
"The end of the support reaches half-way," said Fred, "and each must fall the remaining distance. If we are all careful, no harm will be done."
"Is it securely fastened above?"