Again the floor of the cavern was ascending, very gradually, but none the less positively for all that. Little Rifle suspected that the dryness of the rocks, over which they were crawling, meant that they had passed from beneath the river bed, and were under the solid earth, but with little prospect of ever reaching the surface. But the most gratifying and welcome fact of all, was that they were getting away from the tormenting uproar of the waterfall. With every foot they advanced through the labyrinthine cavern, that terrible continuous crash grew less and less distinct, until it finally sounded like the dull roar of the distant ocean. The relief was unspeakable, and the ringing din in their ears speedily subsided, so that they began to feel something like their natural selves again. It would be easy enough for them to remain in this part of the cavern until the coming of night, and Little Rifle concluded that this was what they would do. As they got further away from the tumult, of course they found use for their tongues, and, as may be supposed, they made good use of them, as a sort of recompense for their enforced idleness. “Suppose the Blackfeet follow us here?” inquired Harry Northend. “I don’t think there is any danger,” replied Little Rifle, who then made known--what we have already stated to the reader--his belief that the Indian whom they had shot, was not in pursuit of the lads, and indeed did not know or suspect their presence behind the falls. This theory was entirely new to his friend, who, after hearing the reasons for his belief, was disposed to believe it implicitly. “Then all we have to do,” he continued, “is to wait here until night comes, and go out the same way that we came in. Isn’t that it, Little Rifle?” “I am afraid it is, unless we can find some other way out. What time of day is it?” “It must be past noon; I remember just before I went over the falls, that I took my last look, as I supposed, at the sun, and it was then directly overhead, so it must have been about mid-day.” “Yes,” returned Little Rifle, “the afternoon is only fairly begun, for things have moved lively with us, since then. If we stay here until night, we have got a good six hours’ stretch before us at least. I have waited many a time for a much longer period than that, but it isn’t the most pleasant thing to do, especially when you don’t know whether you are going to make any thing by it or not. I hope we can do better.” “You have hinted that same thing before,” said Harry; “what do you mean by it?” “You know that I told you that Old Ruff Robsart has been here before us. It was a long time ago, and I do not remember what he told me; but I suspect that he found his way out by a different passage from the one he used in entering.” “And you think there is a possibility of our finding the passage?”