One or more men had gone through the woods, monkey fashion, in the trees, and when at the edge had wound a rope, probably a lasso, to the bough by which to lower themselves to the ground, taking heed to land with their toes towards the course they had followed. Once afoot, they had used an ironshod staff to execute a giant's stride off the damp place under the sheltering tree upon the hard, dry stone. Hence the metallic line noticed by the hunter.
What they were and what their number little worried him. The main point was that he could find them readily. They might conceal themselves temporarily amongst the chaos of boulders, but escape was out of the question! Beyond was an immensely deep abyss, of which the adventurers were doubtless ignorant. They had entered into a no thoroughfare.
After overhauling his rifle, the hunter crept and glided among the large stones, looking in all directions, and stopping now and anon to listen avidly. He came to a spot where the whole of the rocky sea was comprehended in one view. A strange sight was offered him, which filled him with a kind of admiring surprise.
Two men had managed to throw a lasso over a jutting crag right over a large fissure serving as window to the Grotto. One had wound the rope about his middle, and with perfectly alarming boldness, was dangling over the fathomless abyss of the Cutoff with the hope to pry into the cavity.
At the nick when Bill Williams caught sight of this, the suspended man was about climbing up, and with the help of his comrade, was hastening to land on a ledge.
The Raven of the Cherokees allowed him to just get a footing, and whilst he was uncoiling the cord from his waist, Bill aimed at the second man and let the lead fly. It took him fair in the bosom, so that he leaped up in the air tremendously, and fell over into the gulf with an almost endless but more and more faint scream of agony.
Bringing another cartridge into readiness for an immediate shot, the Half-breed strode steadily towards the second bandit, who trembled all over in the greatest dread at his approach.
"My poor brother is shaky with too much weariness," remarked he, when nearer. "It must be as near hard work as ever you tried to hang by the girdle on a rope—and highly risky, too, for the string might snap, and there's no telling how deep you might drop."
The man stared at him as though not understanding the bitter jest. It was Bill who laughed.
"After such a job, you ought to have a rest," he went on. "Don't you fret—you'll have plenty of rest before I get through with you."