“Nana! Nana!”
The hand let go its hold before Dalima could bend forward to grasp it. It was gone—gone!
Then the Javanese girl flung herself flat upon the ground and peered over the edge of the fearful precipice which yawned beneath her. What she saw there was enough to freeze the young blood in her veins. But she had no time to waste in gazing with horror at what was going on below.
Once again she shrieked, “Nana! Nana!”
Just then she felt some one grasp her arm. She looked up, and van Nerekool was standing beside her.
“You here, Dalima!” cried he, not understanding in the least what was going on. “Where is nonna Anna?”
“Allah! tobat toean!” cried Dalima, still lying on the ground, but pointing with horror down into the deep.
“There? There?” exclaimed Charles beside himself with terror, while he flung himself down on the ground and gazed into that frightful precipice.
Fortunately Grenits and Murowski were close behind their friend. He was in a fearfully dangerous position, as he, regardless of all caution, hung over the wall of rock, and it was well for him that his friends firmly grasped his legs.
“Charles! Charles!” they cried.