“No,” he said, or seemed to say, for they could only judge by the movement of his lips. “No,” and he shook his head, and seating himself, gazed calmly and placidly at the water, as if there were no such thing as danger.
In fact, to the great savage there was no such thing as peril in any of the objects of nature. Full of strength and calm matter-of-fact courage, climbing rocks or making his way into such a place as this was a very commonplace affair. His idea of danger was in the sight of enemies thirsting for his blood. Now that they were out of reach, and he believed that he had thrown them off the scent, he was perfectly content, and ready to smile at the perfection of the hiding-place he had sought.
“Can you hear me, Jem?” said Don at last, after they had sat on the wet stones for some time, watching the falling water and listening to the thunderous roar.
“Yes, if you shout quite close?”
“Isn’t it an awful place?”
“Ay, ’tis.”
“Do you think we shall escape?”
“I was thinking what a good job it was that we had managed a good feed.”
“How are we to get away again?”
“Dunno. P’r’aps there’s another way out.”