And with a weary sigh the old man once more turned to climb the steep-backed hill.
Meanwhile the other had disappeared over the edge of the cliff. A path scarcely to be made out led down the face of the western wall of the fearful chasm. Tufts of grass, and a few wind-cropped, stunted bushes, gave foothold or hand-grasp to the hardy climber. When he had nearly reached the middle of the chasm, and was but half-way down, he paused and looked about him.
"Ay, ay," he muttered, "'tis all right. They've not come back yet. There's the plank, where it ought to be."
The man then climbed down a little further to where a ledge in the cliff allowed a little more room to move. Against the face of the precipice was a somewhat larger bush of stunted thorn. Protruding from underneath its boughs was the end of a plank. The man drew it out. It was long and heavy. With ease, however, it was drawn to the edge of the little platform, and balanced for launching out to rest on the edge of a similar platform in the face of the opposite precipice.
After swinging the plank backwards and forwards two or three times, the man at last darted it violently forwards, and with such vigour and dexterity that it rested some inches on the opposite ledge. He then proceeded to walk steadily across it, and, having reached the further side, he drew the plank over after him. In this way he cut off all access to his standing-place. Behind him were a few bushes; stepping up to the largest of these, he disappeared behind it.
Had any one been observing him, it would have seemed that he had vanished into the face of the cliff, so close did the bush grow, and so bare and beetling did the face of the rock seem.
But behind the bush was a narrow rent in the cliff, wide enough to allow one man to pass through, and opening out inside into a space of sufficient size to accommodate three or four people.
Striking a light with a flint and steel, the man soon kindled a fire, the smoke of which, instead of curling out through the entrance, found its way to the upper air by some other exit.
Having thrown more fuel on the fire, the man sat down on a spar, which looked as if it had come from some wreck, and fell into a deep reverie.
The flickering light fell full upon his face and figure, showing dark, weather-beaten features, marked with deep lines, but bearing evidence of a strong will, high courage, and pride. His frame was very powerful, although the rough dress he wore did little to set it off. But the sinewy hands and strong neck, combined with great breadth of chest, showed a man capable of vast exertion. In spite of the rude dress, there was a certain air and look which told at once of superior position, and any stranger meeting him would at once have addressed him respectfully, in spite of his surroundings and attire.