way."

Don caught up the basket and backed into the shelter of the trees,
keeping in a stooping position, while Jem followed, and now, with all
the sensation of indolence gone, they hurried along the rugged and
dangerous path, to spread the alarm in the village far below, where they
had left the inmates dreaming away their existence in happy ignorance of
the danger so close at hand.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

A PERILOUS DESCENT.

The heat was terrible, and it seemed to Don as if the difficulties met
with in their outward journey had been intensified on their return.
Thorns caught in their garments, and, failing these, in their flesh.
Twice over Jem stepped a little too much off the faint track, and had
narrow escapes of plunging into pools of hot mud, whose presence was
marked by films of strange green vegetation.

Then they mistook their way, and after struggling along some distance
they came out suddenly on a portion of the mountain side, where to
continue their course meant that they must clamber up, descend a sheer
precipice of at least a hundred feet by hanging on to the vine-like
growths and ferns, or return.

They stopped and stared at each other in dismay.

"Know where we went wrong, Mas' Don?" said Jem.

"No; do you?"

"Not I, my lad. Think it must ha' been where I had that last slip into
the black hasty pudding."

"What shall we do, Jem? If we go back we shall lose an hour."

"Yes! Quite that; and 'tarn't no good to climb up here. I could do it;
but it's waste o' time."

"Could we get down here?"

"Oh, yes," said Jem drily; "we could get down easy enough; only the
thing is, how should we be when we did get down?"

"You mean we should fall to the bottom?"

"Well, you see, Mas' Don," said Jem, rubbing one ear as he peered down;
"it wouldn't be a clean fall, 'cause we should scrittle and scruttle
from bush to bush, and ketch here and snatch there. We should go right
down to the bottom, sure enough, but we might be broke by the time we
got there."

"Jem, Jem, don't talk like that!" cried Don angrily. "Do you think it
possible to go down?"

"Well, Mas' Don, I think the best way down would be with our old crane
and the windlass tackle."

"Do you dare climb down?"

"Ye-es, I think so, Mas' Don; only arn't there no other way?"

"Not if we want to save them down at the village."

"Well, but do we want to save 'em, Mas' Don? They're all werry well,
but--"

"And have been very kind