"That right, him plenty safe here for time." The Indian explained how huge rocks near the wall of the Gap made a satisfactory hiding place for both the Ranger's white stallion and his own paint horse. "Where was your camp, Tonto?" Tonto told about the clearing on the side of Thunder Mountain and the trail that led from the clearing downhill to the Basin and uphill to the mountain's top. From the top of the mountain it was possible, despite all rumors to the contrary, to ride in many directions. "Then the Basin can be entered without going through this canyon?" Tonto nodded. "I've always been told that was impossible." "It not impossible. You see bimeby. Get rest first. Get well. Then we ride." The wounded man was eager to leave the cave and start upon a campaign of vengeance in behalf of his fallen comrades, but when he tried to rise, Tonto pressed him back to his seat. "You wait," he said. "You not ready yet." The effort made the Ranger quite aware that he was still weaker than he had supposed. While Tonto rebuilt a tiny smokeless fire of very dry bits of wood and prepared a new supply of hot food, he told how, the day before, he had ridden down the Gap to the spot where the massacre had taken place, and then heard shooting far beyond. He had risked discovery by going as far as the entrance of the Basin. From there he could see the activity around the house. He saw Mort's body carried to the big ranch house and a little later saw the girl, Penelope, take the children to the same rambling structure. Then the body of Rebecca had been taken there. He told all this in his jerky, stilted manner while he put things on the fire to cook and then redressed the Ranger's wounds. "You need plenty more rest," Tonto told the convalescent man. "We talk more bimeby." "But, Tonto, tell me more about what you've seen. Did you find or see anything of my guns and cartridge belt?" "Talk more after you strong." "Have you any idea who ambushed us?" "Me got plenty scheme," the Indian said. "Talk bimeby." "It was you who called Silver away from me--I remember your night-bird's call. Why did you do that?" Tonto refused to give the Texan any satisfaction. He explained that he had several things that needed doing outside the cave, and that he was in something of a hurry to get away. He further impressed the wounded man with the importance of rest, then more rest, to give the healing broken flesh a chance to mend beyond the danger of tearing open anew. The freshly made broth was steaming-hot and tasted good. When he finished drinking it, the Ranger felt drowsiness creeping over him again despite all of his recent sleep. The effort of even so short a talk with Tonto seemed to have tired him. He felt strangely secure, now that his Indian friend was with him. The sleep he needed now was natural sleep without the nightmares of the pain and fever.