The burdens, soaked with water, had increased in weight very materially, and again Poyor overhauled them in order to throw away yet more of the load.
All the fishing tackle, two extra suits of clothes belonging to the boys, the spoiled provisions and, in fact, nearly everything except the ammunition and weapons, was left behind when the ascent of the mountain was continued.
It was not yet time for the sun to rise; but the gray light of coming day served to show the way, and Poyor strode on in advance at a pace which would have soon winded the boys had Cummings not ordered him to proceed more slowly.
"We must keep on without a halt until noon," he said, "and it would be bad policy to use a portion of the party up before the journey has fairly begun."
Even at the best pace possible the progress was by no means rapid, owing to the obstructions in the path. Here it was necessary to make a long detour that an overhanging ledge might be avoided, and there they were literally forced to scramble among boulders of every size at imminent risk of breaking limbs or being precipitated to the valley below.
Before half an hour had passed the rain ceased falling as rapidly as it had begun, and as the sun appeared the clouds at the foot of the mountain were dispersed.
Poyor halted and turned to look toward the valley.
Almost at the same instant a loud shout was heard and Cummings uttered an exclamation of dismay, as a party of at least a hundred Indians burst into view about a mile below.
"They halted rather than run the risk of passing us during the storm," he said half to himself. "Inasmuch as the slowest of that crowd can travel two yards to our one we are likely to be overhauled in a very short time."
"It is the end," Poyor said gravely. "There is little chance of escape, and none of running from them."