Night soon came on, but not darkness. It chanced to be a clear moonlight; and they saw at once that it would then be quite as perilous to go down the ravine as it had been during the day. They could hear the snorting and growling of the monster below; and they knew she still held the pass. Should they attempt to descend, she would discover them long before they could get down. She could hear them clambering among the rocks and bushes. The advantage would be hers, as she could attack them unawares. Besides, even had the coast been quite clear, they would have found it difficult to get down the steep descent in the night. They dared not attempt it. After much deliberation, therefore, they resolved to wait for the morning.
Throughout all the live-long night they kept awake. They heard their steeds neighing below—wondering, poor brutes, what had become of their masters. The hinny of Jeanette echoed wildly from the cliffs, and was answered by the bark and howl of the prairie-wolf. These sounds, together with the more ominous snort of the bear, kept sleep from the eyes of our adventurers. They dared not go to sleep, unless by perching themselves in the trees; as they knew not the moment the bear might come up to the summit. Sleeping upon the slender branch of a mountain pine is more painful than pleasant; and all three preferred keeping awake.
Morning broke at length. The first light showed that the shaggy sentinel was still at her post. She sat upon the same spot, as though she was guarding her dead offspring. The young hunters, but particularly Basil, began to grow impatient. They were hungry, though there were still left some fragments of the wild mutton, which they could have eaten. But they were thirsty as well. The juice of the cactus allayed, but did not quench, their thirst. They longed for a draught of cool water from the spring below. The buffaloes, too, were gone northward, “on the run.” They might never overtake them. They might never again have such an opportunity of procuring that for which they had endured all this suffering. These thoughts influenced all three, but Basil more than any. Some attempt must be made to reach the plain, and escape from their elevated prison.
Basil proposed provoking the bear, by firing upon her. She would pursue them, he urged, as the other had done, and meet with a similar fate. This might have succeeded, but it would have been a dangerous experiment. Lucien suggested that two of them should go round the edge of the precipice and examine it more carefully, while the third kept a watch upon the bear. Perhaps there might yet be found some other path that led to the plain. This offered but a faint hope; still it would take only a few minutes to make the examination, and Lucien’s proposal was therefore agreed to.
“If we only had a rope,” suggested François, “we could let ourselves over the cliff, and then the old grizzly might stay there for ever, if she pleased.”
“Ha!” shouted Basil, as if some plan had suddenly come into his mind, “what dunces we have been! Why did we not think of it before? Come, brothers! I’ll get you down in the twinkling of an eye—come!”
As Basil uttered these words, he strode off towards the spot where they had butchered the big-horns. On reaching it he drew his hunting-knife; and having spread out one of the skins, proceeded to cut it into strips. Lucien, at once guessing his design, assisted him in the operation; while François was sent back to the head of the ravine, in order to watch the bear.
In a few minutes the brothers had cut up both of the hides, until the ground was covered with long strips. These they knotted firmly together—placing cross-pieces of pine branches in the knots—until they had made a raw-hide rope over one hundred feet in length!
They now proceeded to a convenient point of the cliff—where a pine-tree grew near its edge—and tied one end of the new-made rope around the trunk. To the other end they fastened Marengo, the three guns—for François had arrived upon the ground—and, along with these, a large stone—in order to test the strength of the rope before any of themselves should venture upon it. All these things were now lowered down until they could see them resting upon the prairie below.
The rope was next made taut above; and the weight of the stone—which was too heavy for Marengo to move—kept all fast below. François slipped down the rope first. There was but little difficulty in his doing so; as the pieces of wood formed rests, or steps, that prevented him from sliding too fast. Lucien followed next, and then Basil; so that in less than half an hour, from the time that this plan of escape had occurred to them, all three found themselves safe upon the level of the prairie!