“It’s a long story,” responded Rob, in the same cautious tones; “the question is how are we going to get down again?”
“Gee whiz! that’s so. There’s no way of clambering down the sides. If only we had a rope.”
“We’ve got one. The canoe ropes joined together would be long and strong enough,” said Rob, “but how could you get them up to us? No trees grow close enough. I don’t see how——”
He stopped short. Tubby had suddenly begun to execute a grotesque sort of war-dance. His figure capered oddly about in the moonlight.
“Wait there till I come back!” he exclaimed, and suddenly darted off, followed by Jumbo.
“Well, if that isn’t just like Tubby,” said Rob; “what in the world is he up to now?”
But Rob knew Tubby well enough to divine that the lad would not have told him to wait if there had not been some good reason for it. So he sat down with what patience he could. It was some time before Tubby reappeared. When he did, he had something in his hands.
“Watch out!” he cried to Rob.
The leader of the Eagle Patrol watched his Scout carefully. Suddenly he realized what Tubby was doing. He had made a bow and arrow out of springy wood. Then he had attached one end of a light string to the arrow. To the other extremity of the string, which was long enough to reach the summit of the cone, was attached the knotted lengths of canoe and pack rope. Rob had hardly time to take in the details of this clever trick before the arrow came whizzing by his ear. He grabbed the string as it followed and began hauling in.
Before long he had reached its end, and started pulling on the rope. He made one end fast about a projecting pinnacle of rock, and then called down his congratulations to Tubby in a low but hearty voice.