"Charley! Charley! where are you?" shouted the pioneer.
"Here I am," replied the little fellow—"down here in the rock. I can't get up."
Several of the party had already mounted the ledge, and they now saw what was the matter. There was a crevice or crack running through the rock from top to bottom, all the way from a foot to a foot and a half in width. Into this fissure the boy had fallen, and as the sides were steep and smooth, he could not possibly climb out. A hazel withe was cut, and one end given him, and he was speedily drawn to the surface.
"How came you in there, Charley?" asked his father.
"I fell in," answered the boy. "I was out there under that maple when the panther jumped on to Tige. I ran to the top of this rock, and stumbling, fell down in there. The panther came several times and tried to reach me, but he couldn't. Oh, I'm so tired and hungry!"
"We'll be at home soon," said his father. "Your mother will be looking for you."
They hastened toward the cabin with eager footsteps, and soon met the other party, who were returning from a fruitless search for boy or panther. Just then the report of a gun was heard at the settlement.
"What does that mean?" asked a brawny pioneer.
"I don't know," answered Goodwin. "Something must be the matter."
The party hastened their steps to a run.