Which was true; for five hundred feet below lay a fleecy stratum of cloud, through which on the edges projected the tops of trees, but which in the middle was as unbroken as a placid sea. Across the valley the sun was setting in the west, its rays red as blood upon the side of the mountain behind them and upon their faces. Then the sun seemed quite suddenly to slip below the mountain top, the sky became colder in appearance, and a chill wind swept down out of the mountains, while the cloud sea below began to stir and toss a little under the wind’s fretting.
“By Jiminy,” said big Bob, “I’ll bet it’s so deep down there, if I toss this stone overboard you’ll never hear it fall.”
He suited action to word. The stone ripped through the clouds and the boys held their breath to listen. Not a sound came back to them.
“Whew,” shivered Frank. “Come on, let’s get away from the precipice before some demon pushes us in. Up here I begin to believe in demons and warlocks, kobolds and gnomes.”
They hurried toward the fire which Carlos and Pedro had built.
On another occasion, as they were climbing early one morning out of a high valley over the shoulder of a mountain, Jack slipped on a rock that turned under his foot, and, falling to his side, began sliding down hill. Not far away was another precipice, with a sheer drop into a rocky ravine where there were not even any trees to break his fall.
Mr. Hampton made a leap for his son, but he was too far away to be able to reach him in time. Jack meanwhile was clawing desperately at the ground, in an attempt to stay his downward progress. Frank, who was nearer than Mr. Hampton, also started for Jack, impeded, however, by the necessity of watching his own footsteps to prevent slipping. It was big Bob, however, who saved his comrade, and he did it in a novel way.
At a glance, his quick eye took in the situation. He saw that the ground sloped so sharply that whoever should run to Jack’s rescue might merely hasten his descent by further loosening the loose rocks that lay everywhere about and sending them down on the sliding figure.
Further, would there be time for a man to reach Jack? He believed not.
But by his side, over a pack on the mule with which he had been keeping pace, hung a coiled lasso. Two years before, during their stay in New Mexico, Bob had been fascinated by the manipulations of the lasso, of which his cowboy friends were capable. He had worked under their tutelage, and had acquired considerable dexterity. On his present trip, he had amazed the monks by his skill, and had kept his hand in with constant practise.