Once beside me the faithful fellow began rubbing my limbs briskly to renew their circulation and ease the bruises, and it was not long before I felt sufficiently restored to announce my resolve to continue the adventure.
“Come on, Nux,” said I, scrambling to my feet, “we must get that gold before Daggett and his gang come back.”
The black was staring at the rocking-stone, now removed from our table-like refuge by a good twenty feet.
“How we get back again?” he asked, in perplexity.
“I don’t know,” said I. “That’s a question we’ll have to face afterward. The main thing is to get the gold, and it’s certain that if we can find no way to escape the robbers will be as badly off themselves.”
Nux shook his head.
“Dat won’ help us, Mars Sam,” he said, gravely.
But already I was engaged in eagerly peering over the edge of the peak to find the ledge by which the men had descended, and in an instant I discovered it. It started with a projection scarcely six inches wide, which lay nearly four feet from the top, and it is small wonder that I looked at it dubiously, at first. For if I let myself over, and missed my footing, I would be tumbled sheer down the face of the cliff.
“I go first,” decided Nux, who had also glanced over the cliff.
There was a crack in the rock, near the edge, which afforded him a hold for his hands, and clutching this the black let his body slide over until his feet touched the projection.