In a few moments more the falls burst upon their view like a great silver curtain suspended against a black wall.
In the rock, over which the waters fell like a great apron, was the ranger’s secret home, the water concealing from view the entrance, which could only be reached by passing through the descending torrent.
“Behind that wall of water, Miss Sanford, is my home, and to reach it we must pass through the descending sheet; and as it will be pitchy dark beyond, and the windings of the cavern are difficult to follow, I had better go in alone, light a torch, and return to you. You can wait there upon that rock, can you not?”
“Oh, certainly,” replied Silvia, springing to her feet.
Alongside the canoe was a rock, some three feet across, and projecting several inches above the surface of the stream. Upon this Silvia stepped to await the ranger’s return. He took up the paddle and drove the canoe forward, and when he had disappeared in the mist and spray, a feeling akin to terror crept over the maiden. But she could only wait—listen to the roar of the falls and the black waters chafing the rock on which she stood. And as she lifted her eyes and followed the dark summit of the ridge that rose up before her, what dark objects were those she saw moving athwart the clear sky?
They were savages, though Silvia did not know it.
Presently a light streamed through the mist and falling water, and looking, Silvia saw that the latter had been parted near the middle, and about ten feet above the stream by some contrivance of the ranger, and that the light was burning in the mouth of the cavern, several feet beyond.
In a moment the canoe with the ranger shot out through the opening and came alongside the rock where Silvia stood. Assisting her in as though she had been a child, the kind-hearted ranger took a gum blanket that he had brought from the cavern, and wrapped it, hood-like, over her head and shoulders, that the spray and dropping water might not drench her. He then took up the paddle and drove the canoe through the mist and vapor, between the parted waters of the falls, and as far beyond as the water had backed beneath the jutting rock.
“Here we are, Miss Sanford,” said Rainbolt, removing the blanket from Silvia’s head and shoulders.
She glanced around and above. A glaring pine torch, fixed in a niche in the wall, lit up the place. From the rim of the canoe a spiral row of stone steps led up into the great rock. Overhead the rocky ceiling was studded with countless numbers of stalactites, on the sharp points of which hung drops of water that flashed like so many diamonds. Here and there a little jet of water poured down in ribbons of foam.