was smooth rock, but long banks of gravel lay
resting in the hollows at so steep a slope that it was evident that a
footstep would be sufficient to dislodge them. Indeed, without that,
every now and then some of them broke away and plunged down into the
valley. Close behind the party a wall of crags rose sheer for a
hundred feet at least. Kinnaird glanced up at them with a frown.

"I fancy we should find another level strip above," he said; "but
since we can't get up the only thing to do is to push on. From what I
saw through my glasses when I went up the lake, there is certainly an
easier slope once we get around the corner."

They went on, wearily, with the wall of rock creeping out nearer and
nearer to the edge of the declivity, and it became quite clear to
Weston that the girls' strength was rapidly failing. Still, he quietly
urged them on, for it was now becoming a somewhat momentous question
whether they could get down before darkness fell; and as a rule the
white mists settle heavily upon those ranges with the dusk. Then the
margin between rock and declivity almost disappeared, and Weston,
looking down on the somber tree-tops, felt reasonably certain that
there was now another wall of crags between the foot of the slope and
them.

"I suppose you are quite sure, sir, that the face of the hill is less
steep around the corner in front of us?" he asked.

"I am," replied Kinnaird. "I traced out the route with my glasses from
the head of the lake. Where I was wrong was in not heading for higher
level. The bench I intended to follow is clearly above us."

Weston glanced at Ida, and noticed that her face was very weary and a
trifle gray, but she smiled at him reassuringly; and they floundered
on until the wall of rock pushed them right out to the edge of the
declivity. They clung to it here and there with their hands while they
felt for a foothold among the banks of gravel. Suddenly, Ida slipped
and clutched at Weston. Her hand fell upon the package of provisions
that he had slung behind his shoulders with a strip of deerhide, and,
for she was of full stature and not particularly slender, it broke
away. Then there was a roar of sliding stones, and Weston, dropping on
his knees, flung an arm about the girl. She fell as he did it, and
they slid down together a yard or so before he drove one foot deep
into the gravel and brought himself up. Then he risked a glance at
her.

"Don't look down!" he commanded sharply.