The well-defined trail passed into this place, and the Ranger followed it up into the gloomy defile.
Frank had to raise the boat every few moments, as the path sloped at an acute angle.
After awhile they reached a level plateau at the top of the cliffs and observed that the trail ran to the left.
The Ranger still pursued it.
“How fortunate that no wind or snow storm occurred here since these tracks were made,” commented Frank. “Had it occurred the trail would have been eliminated.”
“Wha’ de deuce dat chile gwine up heah fo’?” asked Pomp.
“He must have had some purpose in view for doing it.”
“Begorra, there’s no ind to ther spalpeen’s walkin’,” said the Irishman. “It’s off we’ll foind his legs when we roon across him.”
“Hark! What’s that?” interposed Frank.
They all listened.