Frank reached the path which led up the cliff.
Here he halted and listened.
It was somewhile before he was satisfied that the coast was clear.
Then he whispered:
“All right, Bill; come on.”
The trapper followed without question.
Like silent phantoms they crept up the winding path. Up and up they went until they could overlook the Death Valley.
And there a curious spectacle was presented to their view.
In different quarters of the valley myriads of dancing balls of fire, ghastly in their radiance, seemed to spring from the soil, linger in the air a few moments, and then vanish.
It looked like a literal display of fireworks.