"Hello!" Dave called. "Who are you, and what do you want? Where are you?" he asked, for he could see no one. "Over here. To your right. I can see you, but you can't see me. I'm down behind a rock. I'm caught, and hanging over a gully. Wait, I'll toss up my handkerchief. Watch for it!" Dave looked as nearly as he could tell in the direction of the voice. An instant later something white flashed up in the air, and fell down softly. Crow started violently. CHAPTER VII THE RESCUE "Whoa there, old boy! Steady!" Dave spoke to his horse, and the animal, that had been frightened by the sudden throwing into the air of the handkerchief, stood still. "I see where you are!" Dave called to the unknown and unseen one--a man, evidently, by the tones of his voice. "I'll be with you in a minute!" "Be careful of yourself," was the caution. "I had a bad fall in here, and I don't want to see any one else get into trouble. Go a bit slow." "Thanks, I will," Dave said "But I know this ground pretty well. Stand still now, old fellow," he went on to his horse. "I don't want you falling, and breaking your leg or neck." Crow whinnied as though he understood, and Dave, slipping the reins over the neck of the intelligent animal as a further intimation that he was to stay where he was without wandering, climbed from the saddle, a bit wearily it must be confessed, and started for the rock, behind which lay the injured man, and from which point the young cattleman had observed the white handkerchief. "Careful now." cautioned the voice again. "All right, don't worry about me," said Dave, easily. A moment later he had turned around the intervening rock, and saw, stretched out on the ground, hanging half way over a deep and rock-filled gully, a man about twenty-seven years of age. Dave guessed this much though he could see only a part of the man's body, for his head and shoulders were hanging down over the ledge. "What are you doing there?" was Dave's first question. "Why don't you get up?" For it was exactly as if the man were lying face downward on top of a cliff, looking down. "I can't get up," the man answered, his voice being a bit muffled because his head was hanging over the cliff. "My foot is caught in a cleft in the rocks, and I'm afraid to move for fear it will pull loose. If it does I'll lose my balance and topple, for I'm hanging more than half-way over this cliff now. And it doesn't look like a good place into which to fall." This was true enough, as Dave knew, for the bottom of the gully was covered with jagged rocks. More than one straying steer had fallen over there and had been dashed to pieces. "Steady!" called Dave. "I see how it is. I'll soon have you out of that. I'm going back for my rope." "Are you a puncher?" asked the man. "Yes," answered Dave, briefly. "But don't talk. Save your strength. I'll have you out in a jiffy."