"I think it is all very strange, and very wonderful," said the girl with a blush. "And very encouraging to us. Mr. Fawcett has come through so much. And I should just love to see that Japanese gentleman,—Kobo, did you call him?" At dusk Bob returned with Ah-Sam to the farther end of the cavern and let the loose end of the rope dangle down the cliff-side. It fell short of the top of the slope, the spot from which the hapless bear had rebounded, by a distance of apparently some ten feet. On to level ground the drop would have been easy, but on to the slope it might prove fatal to Bob as to the bear. There being no more rope available, only one thing could be done: the length of rope in the cleft above, some four or five yards, must be reduced. Ah-Sam untied the end and reknotted it to the shaft, using less of the rope; then, carefully examining the fissure, Bob discovered that the shaft was just long enough to be jammed vertically between a depression in the floor and a projection in the roof, about a yard from the mouth. When this had been done, he found that the lower end of the rope just touched the slope beneath. "Allo velly good, massa," said Ah-Sam with an air of satisfaction. "Yes. Now may it soon be dark. I am going down; you will remain here, and if you feel a tug on the rope, that means that I am coming back." "My savvy; my no wailo; no fear!" Waiting until all was dark, Bob let himself over the edge, and by aid of the loops, in which he was able to stand upright, thus resting his arms at intervals, he climbed easily down. When he reached the slope he found that the upper portion of it was steeper than it had appeared above, and he was glad the rope was long enough to enable him to steady his steps down the first few feet. Then he dropped to a sitting posture, and moved cautiously on hands and heels to the bottom. So careful was he to avoid making a noise, by displacing a loose stone or striking the rock too heavily with his boots, that it was nearly ten minutes before the descent was completed. When at last he rose to his feet, he looked around to take his bearings if possible. Fortunately the clouds that had obscured the sky for some nights past were gone; there was no moon, but a faint radiance from the stars, by which he saw that there was nothing to serve as a landmark save the two upright rocks that framed the mangled body of the bear. Carefully noting the position of these in relation to an irregular fissure in which there still lay a drift of snow—all snow on the surrounding hillside being now melted—he turned his back on the steep cliff and skirted round the rugged spur that hid the mouth of the cavern from observers below. This spur, though only a few yards wide at the summit, increased in width as it approached the level until it measured fully fifty yards at the base.