ridge in pursuit. Without hesitation she
chose the chances of death in the cavern to the certainty of the torture
waiting for her outside. Foot by foot she lowered herself, making the
most of every irregularity in the rock wall that offered a grip for hand
or foot. The distance down seemed interminable. She worked herself into
a position where she could move neither up nor down. While her foot was
searching for a brace one of her hands slipped and she went the rest of
the way with a rush.

For a time she lay there in the darkness, shaken and bruised by the
fall, a sharp pain shooting through one of her legs just above the
ankle. During those minutes of daze voices came to her from the slit of
light above. The painted face of an Apache leaned over the edge of the
wall and looked into the gulf.

The girl made not the least movement. She did not stir to relieve the
pain of her leg. Scarcely did she dare breathe lest the sound of it
might reach those above.

The Apaches began to fire into the fissure. Ramona noiselessly dragged
herself close to the overhanging wall. Shot after shot was flung into
the cavern at random. Fortunately for Ramona the strain of the situation
relaxed abruptly. A wave of light-headedness seemed to carry her
floating into space. She fainted.

When she came to herself no sound reached the girl from above. The
Indians had no doubt concluded that their victim was not in the cavern
and taken up the pursuit again. But she knew the cunning of the Apache.
Probably one or two braves had been left to watch the cleft. She lay
quite still and listened. All she could hear was the fearful beating of
her heart.

For hours she lay there without making a sound. The patience of the
Apache is proverbial. It was possible they knew where she was and were
waiting for her to deliver herself to them.

'Mona had one ghastly comfort. The little revolver she had brought along
with which to shoot rattlesnakes was still in its scabbard by her side.
If they would give her only a moment or two of warning, she would never
fall alive into the hands of the redskins.

Time was unmarked for her in the darkness of the cavern. She could not
tell whether it was still morning or whether the afternoon was nearing
an end. Such a day, so full of dreadful horrors, so long from morning
till night, she had never before passed. It seemed to her that a week of
hours had come and gone before the light above began to fade.

CHAPTER