“Wall, I reckon we had better foller ther trail fust.”
“All right.”
Frank led the way, and once more they climbed the cliff trail.
They were not far in the rear of the party which had just come out of the valley.
Their voices and footsteps could be plainly heard, and the two scouts pushed ahead to overtake them.
But suddenly the trail ceased its upward course, and Frank and Beaver Bill saw lights ahead.
They had reached the summit of the cliff, and were now upon a broad, level stretch of plateau.
Upon the western side the wall of the plateau jutted down perpendicularly fully a thousand feet into the Death Valley.
From this point a lofty view could be had.
The eastern wall of the plateau jutted down into the Great Basin with a sheer descent.