He landed at last on the ledge where the Wolf stood waiting. He detached the rope, and once more it was drawn up. The trapper’s weapons were next lowered, and the Wolf placed the tomahawk and knife in the prisoner’s belt and leaned the rifle against the rock, regarding him, meanwhile, with a mocking smile. “Long-knife has his weapons,” he said; “he can shoot the antelope beneath him.” “Blast ye, who cares?” retorted Wild Nat. “Think yer’ll tanterlize me, I s’pose, leavin’ ’em here; but yer won’t.” “The Long-knife has killed his last warrior,” continued the Indian, exultingly. “He will take no more scalps. Long-knife is conquered; his carcass will be food for the vultures, and his bones will bleach in the suns of a hundred years.” He fastened the rope about his waist, the trapper looking on in silence, and mentally cursing his fate. “Ef I war only loose, I’d topple ye over,” he muttered. “I’ll bet thar ain’t a bird livin’ thet would dirty his bill with ye, ef ye war dead forty times.” The Wolf gave the signal, and was slowly drawn up. The Indians then went to the plain below, where, in full view of the trapper, they executed their war-dance, and exulted savagely for the space of an hour, at the end of which time they mounted their horses and rode away. The trapper was alone. He watched them as they gradually disappeared in the gathering gloom, and then looked at his narrow prison. What a place to meet death in! What a fearful death, to die of starvation and thirst! But the trapper had no weak spot in his nature and was not likely to give way to despair. As soon as the Indians were fairly gone, he began trying to free himself. In vain he struggled and writhed; the ligatures were too securely fastened. Pausing, at last, from sheer exhaustion, he looked about for means to accomplish his purpose. His hands were tied behind him, so that the knife in his belt was wholly useless. As he speculated, his eye chanced to rest on a single slender edge of rock, projecting from the wall. To this he speedily wriggled himself, and though from the extreme narrowness of the ledge, he was in danger of falling, he placed his hands against it and drew the bonds back and forth across it, until they snapped asunder. It required a great length of time to accomplish this, but Wild Nat had no lack of patience, and he persevered. His hands once free, it was only a moment’s work to cut the other bonds, and in a short time he stood upon the ledge free, at least to move as far as its narrow limits would permit. But that availed him little, comparatively. In that vast wilderness there was scarcely a possibility of human aid, and he was powerless to help himself. The narrow ledge was likely to prove his sepulcher. CHAPTER II. A WILD CHASE.