"Anybody that don't mind riskin' their necks kin. But it's an awful job, an' nobody with any sense would try it," growled Dugan. "Onct, I was foolish enough ter go up with some fellers. We set out early, an'"—Dugan paused; the recollections brought out the wrinkles on his forehead again—"I'll never forgit it. After a-climbin' an' climbin', we came to a wall of rock risin' most straight up in the air."
"Well, what happened?"
"The fust thing we did arter that was to run inter a hornet's nest, an' in tryin' ter git away from the pesky bugs I fell down a bank, every blessed cent I had rolled out of me pockets, an', for all I know, they're a-rollin' yet."
Bob politely refrained from smiling at Bill Dugan's ludicrous expression of disgust.
"Not only that," went on the driver, "but I ruined me best pair of boots, an' was laid up for a week with a bad arm. An' all that jist to hear the sound of a waterfall in the distance—always did run in mean luck."
"Climb the wall of rock?" queried Bob.
"I did not," snorted Dugan. "T'other chaps wanted to, but I says, 'Not fur me.'"
"Then you never saw the waterfall?"
"No! An' don't want to, nuther. Some fellers has, but the pesky birds an' animals kin do all the lookin', as fur as I keer. As I tole you afore, anybody what gits caught in that gorge is a goner. Where the river comes out there's a current that would make you shiver to look at. No boat could git up it."
"How is the mountain on the other side?"