Twenty minutes or more was consumed by Worrell, in conducting the fugitives to the hiding-place, where he promised they should be secure from all molestation from their enemies. In making this journey they walked slowly, often pausing to examine the ground passed over, and to listen for those unfavorable signals which the straggling settler was sure he heard from the Iroquois. Thus it was that, in spite of the time consumed in making the expedition, they were really at no great distance from the starting point, and both Ned and Jo were confident that they could retrace their steps without difficulty. "Here we are!" As the guide uttered these words, he paused before a mass of boulders, or large stones, where there was an abundance of undergrowth, and the trees were so numerous that the view in all directions was almost cut off. "I see we are here," responded Ned. "But what for?" "Here is the hiding-place I told you about." "Where?" All three were looking inquiringly around, but their eyes saw nothing that could explain why the man called this a place of concealment. "Do you mean that we are to crouch behind some of these stones, just as you did behind the rock, when you found I was looking at you?" asked Ned Clinton, with a laugh. "Not exactly. Wait and I'll show you." He walked forward a few steps further and turned to the right, approaching a large stone that looked heavy enough to require the strength of a Hercules to stir it. Nevertheless, with one hand he turned it aside, it being so nicely poised that there was no trouble in using it as a door on hinges. Drawn back, the astonished whites saw the entrance to a cave beyond. The indications were that, at some remote time, the stones had been placed in position by a party of aborigines of the country, and used by them as a retreat or dwelling. "It is the very place," said Rosa; "for I have been inside." "You? When?" asked her brother. "Lena-Wingo brought me here one day last fall, when we were caught in a storm in these mountains!" "What kind of a place is it?" "There could be no better one for us. I thought of it this morning, and spoke to Lena-Wingo about it." "What did he say?" "He replied that he would probably take us here, if he found we had to keep out of sight for awhile." "That is well, then. Mr. Worrell has done for us what the Mohawk meant to do later in the day." "I don't know that I would not have proposed to you that we should come here after he left, if I had been sure of finding my way, but I wasn't." "Is the interior comfortable?" "It is in warm weather, for none of the sun's rays can enter, and the stones seem to give it coolness." "As dark as a wolf's mouth, I suppose?" "Not at all. There are several windows, made by crevices between the stones, which let in enough light to help us see where we are." "The young lady speaks the truth," said Worrell. "She has been in and remembers all about it." "How came you to find it when it is so well concealed?"