, they had succeeded in their design, and
their victims were now helplessly enclosed in the dark catacomb--slowly,
despairingly to perish.

"All up wi' us, I reck'n," said the guide, as he once more let himself
down upon the ledge to communicate the particulars to his companion.

Hamersley ascended to see for himself. They could only go one at a
time. He examined the edge of the orifice where the rock rested upon
it. He could only do so by the touch. Not a ray of light came in on
any side, and groping round and round he could detect neither crevice
nor void. There were weeds and grass, still warm and smouldering, the
_debris_ of what had been set on fire for their fumigation. The rock
rested on a bedding of these; hence the exact fit, closing every crack
and crevice.

On completing his exploration Hamersley returned to his companion below.

"Hopeless!" murmured Wilder, despondingly.

"No, Walt; I don't think so yet."

The Kentuckian, though young, was a man of remarkable intelligence as
well as courage. It needed these qualities to be a prairie merchant--
one who commanded a caravan. Wilder knew him to be possessed of them--
in the last of them equalling himself, in the first far exceeding him.

"You think thar's a chance for us to get out o' hyar?" he said,
interrogatively.

"I think there is, and a likely one."

"Good! What leads ye to think so, Frank?"

"Reach me my bowie. It's behind you there in the cave."

Wilder did as requested.

"It will depend a good deal upon what sort of rock this is around us.
It isn't flint, anyhow. I take it to be either lime or sandstone. If
so, we needn't stay here much longer than it would be safe to go out
again among those bloodthirsty savages."

"How do you mean, Frank? Darn me if I yet understan ye."

"It's very simple, Walt. If this cliff rock be only sandstone, or some
other substance equally soft, we may cut our way out--under the big
stone."

"Ah! I didn't think o' thet. Thar's good sense in what ye say."

"It has a softish feel," said the Kentuckian, as he drew his hand across
one of the projecting points. "I wish I only had two inches of a
candle. However, I think I can make my exploration in the dark."

There was a short moment of silence, after which was heard a clinking
sound, as of a knife blade being repeatedly struck against a stone. It
was Hamersley, with his bowie, chipping off a piece from the rock that
projected from the side