"You show a great deal more courage and manliness than most of your acquaintances give you credit for. I can only tell you to do your best, as you always do."
"How shall I got away widout being seed?"
"That's the trouble, but you know this side of the ravine is in deep shadow, and I think if you move slowly up the footpath we followed in coming here, you won't be seen."
"Dat's jis what I'll do, den—good-bye." And before any one suspected it, the African was gone.
As the faithful fellow was running such risk, Mr. Brainerd crept forward, and with some danger to himself thrust his head and shoulders out, so as to watch the actions of his servant.
Gimp assumed a crouching posture, and began moving up the narrow, sloping path like the shadow that creeps over the face of the dial.
"I wonder whether it is possible to see him," the elder one asked himself, with a pang of fear, as he looked across the brief intervening space; "it hardly seems credible that they would leave the door wide open in that manner."
But speculation was useless: Gimp was outside the cavern, and if really detected by the watchful red men, he was beyond help.
Mr. Brainerd could hear the rustling of the African's body as he slowly glided along, often loosening the dirt and gravel with his hands and knees, and sending it rolling down toward the mouth of the cavern, but there came no sign from the rocks beyond, where it was believed the main body of their enemies was gathered.
Like a huge turtle the bulky negro climbed the steep path, until his outlines were lost in the gloom as he neared the top, and his master drew back into the cavern and wondered what it could mean.