If two active boys like Tom and Jack Dacre had had great difficulty in doing so, it was hardly likely that the outlaws, men of irregular lives and clumsy movements, would be able to accomplish it.
A howl of surprise greeted the first knowledge the men on shore had of the disappearance of the boys, which came when their figures suddenly vanished from the rock. The general consensus of opinion following that was that they had fallen off and been swept to death in the swift current.
But an old fox like Bully Banjo was not the sort of man to leave the bank on that account. On the contrary, he determined to wait till daylight if necessary, and at that time he settled within himself, he would make certain if the boys had really drowned or if they had only found a spot on the rock where they could not be seen from the shore.
He ordered no move, but that the rock was to be watched, however. And so, in silent, dogged determination, the outlaws sat down to await the coming of the day. At last it began to grow faintly, dimly light. A nebulous chilly glow diffused itself through the canyon, bringing out its rough walls and their ragged, towering groups of pines and other conifers.
With the coming of day the men on the shore began to stir. Parties walked off along the rim of the stream in either direction, their purpose being to find, if possible, some trace of the boys.
In the meantime, the coming of the light had not, as Tom had hoped, revealed another rock between the one on which they stood and the shore. Instead, thirty feet or more of raging and, apparently, deep water lay between them and the other bank. It was impossible to jump it and already they were growing weak and faint from exposure and suspense.
The ledge was narrow, too, and slippery, and it was no small exertion in itself to keep a foothold on it for the length of time to which the lads had clung there. Both of them felt that they had almost reached the limit of their endurance. But neither of them wanted to admit it just then.
“I reckon they think ashore that we have drowned,” said Tom, at length, rightly fathoming the surmises of Simon Lake’s men. “If they knew what a fix we are in, they would start peppering again, I’ll bet.”
“To tell the truth,” said Jack, “I don’t see that we are in a much better position than we would be if we were ashore. We can tell by the voices that Lake’s men are on watch for us. If we show ourselves, it will be the signal for a fusillade.”
Tom shook his head.