Part 21 (1/2)

Even the youngest of the party could not understand why it was some of the Senecas could be so near, and fail to detect them.

Mr. Brainerd leaned forward, and peering down into the dense shadow, fancied he saw the crouching figure going lower and lower, until the end of his support was reached.

The father was holding the vine, as if to steady it, when it suddenly jarred in his hand, and seemed to draw up as though relieved of a heavy weight.

Such was the fact; just the faintest possible thump reaching his ear at that moment: manifestly, it was caused by the feet of Fred G.o.dfrey as he dropped lightly to the bottom.

A soft and barely audible ”_st, st!_” followed, and told the truth that one of the little company at least had made the descent in safety.

The understanding was that Mr. Brainerd should be the next. He had already secured his gun to his back, so as to leave his arms free, and he now wrapped his legs about the sinuous support and gripped it tightly with his hands, saying not a word to his friends as he began sinking out of sight.

His descent was a different matter from that of his predecessor. He was not so strong and active, while his body was more bulky; in fact, Fred G.o.dfrey, as he looked anxiously upward through the shadows, was oppressed by the misgiving that the vine would give way under the additional weight, and bring woful disaster.

But his father did better than was antic.i.p.ated, even by himself. He blistered his fingers, and wrenched his muscles, but he went downward steadily, and without any break or noise, until he found the end of the vine in his grasp.

”It's only a short distance,” whispered Fred, who was able to touch his hand; ”let go.”

The elder did as directed, and the next second stood erect beside his son, only slightly jarred by his leap.

”I'm relieved beyond expression,” said Fred; ”I knew the hardest task would be for you to get down.”

”I don't know why you should think so,” said Mr. Brainerd, half jocularly, ”when you knew my strength and activity.”

”But you are the heaviest, and I feared your weight would break the vine.”

”And having sustained me it is good for the rest.”

”Undoubtedly it is; _st, st!_”

The signal was understood by Aunt Peggy, who, a minute later, came down the vine with very little effort.

Eva was next, and but for the danger, it would have been rare sport to slide down such a frail support in that fas.h.i.+on, and, under similar conditions, Maggie would have found it equally jolly.

As it was, Mr. Brainerd and his family let themselves to the bottom of the ravine with much less difficulty and trouble than was feared.

Only Habakkuk McEwen remained above.

”There's no use waiting for him,” said Aunt Peggy, in an undertone; ”he's no help to us.”

”It would be cruel to leave him there,” interposed Maggie.

”Of course _you'd_ object,” snapped the vinegary Aunt Peggy; ”he is as worthless as Jake Golcher himself.”

”Keep quiet,” interposed Mr. Brainerd; ”there's too much talking here.”

”You are correct,” added Fred; ”all this is out of order--there comes the fellow now.”

The words spoken had been in whispers, but they were not needed, and nothing now was heard but the sc.r.a.ping of Habakkuk's legs against the vine which he was descending.