have defied anything short of an eagle's wings--and a
couple of hours before sunset the party set off again down the Pass.

CHAPTER THREE.

A LEAP IN THE DARK.

As the party sullenly descended the Pass, no one seemed in a
conversational mood, but Leigh noticed that his cousin took a very easy
pace, and urged them to feed well, just before the sun set.

No sooner was the darkness fairly upon them than Grenville turned short
in his tracks and quietly said, "I'm going back, Alf, and I'm going
through with this. There's a secret up there, and I believe it's a
black one, and I've no intention of playing into the hands of these
rascals by running away."

"But, my dear boy," remonstrated Leigh, with a rueful face, "you don't
know your way into the mountain; you aren't a bird to fly over it, and
you'll only get yourself shot."

"I believe I do know my way into the mountain, and I hope I shan't get
shot; so come along, old fellow," replied his cousin.

Grumbling and arguing, Leigh turned to follow, and very soon Grenville
imposed the strictest silence upon his companions.

The darkness was now something almost tangible, but after walking--or,
rather, feeling--their way at a funereal pace for a couple of hours, the
murmur of the waterfall broke upon their ears, and the stars now
beginning to grow bright, greater caution than ever became necessary.
Soon the trio were flat on the ground, wriggling along like three
gigantic lizards over the rough, knobbly rocks, which called forth many
a subdued groan from poor Leigh. The advance was, however, continued,
all obstacles to the contrary notwithstanding, and in another hour the
party lay securely hidden within a stone-throw of the waterfall.

A little later, becoming dissatisfied with his position, Grenville drew
his party back some fifty yards under the cover of a rock, and then
proceeded to act in a most singular manner. Divesting himself of his
hat, jacket, and hunting-shirt, he slipped a brace of six-shooters into
his hip-pockets, and, directing Leigh and the Zulu to stay where they
where--unless they heard him blow a small whistle, which he always
carried--he left the pair wondering at his extraordinary movements, and
gradually and cautiously approached the Fall. Arrived there, his
conduct became curious to a degree, for, lying flat on the rock, on the
very edge of the basin indeed, where the spray from the cataract fell in
a continuous and blinding shower, Grenv