Nan and Rex wandered down the cañon below where they had first entered it, but were unable to find a way out. After a supreme effort they were able to climb back over the rocks to where the slide ended, but were unable to go any farther.
‘It doesn’t look very promising,’ said Rex wearily.
Nan sat down on a rock, tired out from the climb. She realized better than Rex did what they were up against. Unless help came to them, they were doomed to starvation in the bottom of Coyote Cañon. She knew that it was only through a great piece of luck that Rex had been able to kill those quail.
‘If we even had a gun,’ she said helplessly. ‘Perhaps they could hear the echo of it.’
‘But there must be a way out,’ insisted Rex. ‘It seems to be an impassable pocket, but there must be a way. I almost wish we were buzzards,’ he said. ‘They are able to fly out with scarcely any effort.’
‘They are not the only buzzards in this country,’ said Nan.
‘You mean—human buzzards, Nan?’
‘Yes. Whoever shot your horse must know we are down here. They don’t know whether we are alive or dead. How did the crazy man get down here, I wonder? That must be his horse.’
‘Yes, it is all very queer. I wonder if he is still alive? Perhaps he knows a way out, Nan. It seems a brutal thing to leave him up there alone in that cave. But what can we do? At least, he is unconscious, and does not seem to be suffering. But I wish he would wake up sane again, because he might know a way out.’
‘He wouldn’t know. I guess we better go back to the cave and gather a supply of wood. All we can do is to pray that some one will look down here for us.’