There was a murmur of approval all through the boat, and soon after the lines were made fast ashore, and Brace was one of the first to climb up to the level shelf the captain had marked out. From here he could command a view of the river banks for quite a mile before the narrow cañon curved, and they loveliness of the place was so surpassing that he stood speechless, forgetting everything in the beauty of the scene, green and golden in the level rays of the sun, with every here and there the shadows deepening into violet.
Brace started as if out of a waking dream as a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and he turned to face Briscoe.
“What can you see?” said the latter, in a low voice.
For answer Brace simply pointed along the cañon, and the American took a long look in silence before venturing to speak again.
“Yes,” he said slowly; “very pretty, but I’m not a very sentimental man. One minute I feel as if I should like to live here, and the next I feel certain it would be too dull. Can’t see any more signs of the Indians, can you?”
“No,” said Brace.
“What sort of a place have you got here? Oh! that’s all right; quite a cavern there. Do splendidly for Dan and the boys to make the fire in, out of sight, for we don’t want it to bring down strangers upon us. Let’s have a look.”
Brace had not noticed any cavern, but now his attention was drawn to it he saw at the back of the shelf that there was a broad rift in the cliff, some ten or a dozen feet wide and seven or eight high, while upon entering it was to find that they could look forward into darkness of unknown depth, while the roof seemed to rise as it receded.
“Looks big,” said Briscoe, raising his gun as if to fire.
“You had better not shoot,” said Brace, laying his hand upon his companion’s arm. “It would raise echoes all along the cañon, and perhaps bring down the Indians.”