It was quite time. Another step forward would have sent them tobogganing into a brawling stream. With a shiver of fear Amy realized this.
"O-oh! Oh! You knew best, after all! You wouldn't come till I made you; and now—how shall we get out! Hark! What's that?"
The burro had already pricked up her ears. There was a shout from somewhere.
Amy managed to slide off and fling herself flat against the slope. When she tried to climb back to a less dangerous spot the twigs she clutched broke in her hands and the rocks cut her flesh. The adventure which had been fascinating was fast becoming frightful.
"Hil-loa! Hil-l-loa!"
Clinging desperately to the undergrowth, she managed to move her head and look down. Far below in the ravine somebody was waving a white cloth.
"Hilloa, up there!"
She was too terrified to speak; yet, after the salute had reached her several times, she dared to loose one hand and wave a returning signal.
"You—just—hold on! I'll come—and get—you!"