“Is there no danger?”
“It would have been dangerous if we had been there.”
“But where is ‘there’?”
“Up yonder,” said the guide, pointing over the pine-wood toward the top of the wall of rock, a perpendicular precipice fully three thousand feet in height. “The rock split off up the mountain somewhere, rushed down, and then fell.”
“Can we see?”
“Oh yes; I could find the place,” said the guide, looking at Dale.
“No, no: we will go on,” said the latter. “It would take us two or three hours. That sort of thing is often going on out here, Saxe.”
“But why did it fall? Is any one blasting rock over there?”
“Yes, Nature: blasting with cold and heat.”
Saxe looked at him inquiringly.