"Don't fear for me so long as I am with White Buffalo," replied Dave; and this speech pleased the Indian chief very much. "Don't you try to go down to the stream by way of the hill," cautioned Sam Barringford. "If you do you may break your necks." The old frontiersman had sprained his foot, but he did not deem it best to mention that fact. Nevertheless, if he had been better able to walk he would probably have accompanied Dave and White Buffalo in spite of the first search made by him. "It's a shame, thet's wot it is," he declared, after the youth and the Indian had departed. "It distresses me oncommonly to think such a thing could happen to Henry." "I hope with all my heart he is alive," responded James Morris. "But if he is dead--?" "Then I shall return to Will's Creek without delay, and start for the west some time later--after I have given my brother and his family all the comfort I can," said the trader soberly. CHAPTER XI HAPPENINGS OF A STORMY NIGHT It is now high time that we return to Henry and see how he fared after his sudden and unexpected disappearance over the edge of the cliff. The young pioneer was well aware of his peril and as he rolled out of Sam Barringford's sight he clutched wildly at every bush and projecting rock that came near his hand. Once a sapling, growing in a cleft of the cliff, struck his shoulder. Around this he managed partly to twist his arm, and this saved him from serious injury. He struck some rocks, however, with considerable force and for a moment was stunned. "What a tumble!" he muttered, when he had regained his breath. "It is a wonder that I didn't kill myself." With an ache in the side occasioned by the rough experience, Henry arose and started to look for some spot along the cliff where he might climb to the top. Where he stood it was almost totally dark, and he had not taken over a score of steps when he floundered into a hollow filled with water and mud. He leaped across this, to find himself in a split of the cliff, where the bushes were unusually high and thick. Here the rain hung heavily from every twig and soon soaked him worse than ever. He thought he heard Barringford calling and started to answer. Then he pushed forward once more, hoping each moment to gain higher ground. But the pocket,--for such it really was,--grew deeper, and suddenly he found himself at the edge of a deep hole. He tried to step back, but the dirt under his feet gave way and he plunged downward he knew not whither. He felt his head strike some projection, and felt some dirt come down on top of him, and then, for the time being, he knew no more. The young hunter came to his senses slowly. His first realization was that his head pained him greatly, and that some weight was trying to force the air from his lungs. He tried to move his hands, to learn that each was covered with the dirt which had come down on top of him.