The moment was propitious, for the rustlers were bustling
around, cooking dinner, unrolling blankets, and moving to and fro from
spring and corral. Hare crawled back a few yards and along the cliff
until he reached the split. It was a narrow steep crack which he well
remembered. Going down was attended with two dangers--losing his hold,
and the possible rattling of stones. Face foremost he slipped downward
with the gliding, sinuous movement of a snake, and reaching the grassy
bench he lay quiet. Jesting voices and loud laughter from below
reassured him. He had not been heard. His new position afforded every
chance to see and hear, and also gave means of rapid, noiseless retreat
along the bench to the cedars. Lying flat he crawled stealthily to the
bushy fringe of the bench.
A bright fire blazed under the cliff. Men were moving and laughing. The
cabin door was open. Mescal stood leaning back from Snap Naab,
struggling to release her hands.
"Let me untie them, I say," growled Snap.
Mescal tore loose from him and stepped back. Her hands were bound before
her, and twisting them outward, she warded him off.
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