With exultant voices echoing throughout the Pass, and back around the lake again, they made camp. Now and then their shouts rang boldly and daringly up toward the hollow and reverberated over the precipice, defying the eagles now from a safe distance. But the day sped onward, crammed full of things to do, and still there was no sign of their erstwhile enemies. “Wa-al,” explained Uncle Jeb, when Westy eagerly asked him if he thought they were liable to nest somewhere else, “it’s a-happened afore, thet they go way fer a spell like thet, ’n if we hain’t a-seen ’em so fur, ’tain’t likely yure a-goin’ ter see ’em fer a while longer.” They were sitting cozily content around a bright crackling fire, the stars shimmering overhead and a new moon making its initial bow, as yet just faintly visible in the distant heavens. Uncle Jeb had been gazing in front of him, his eyes gradually roving up toward the hollow and around over the Pass. For a moment, it seemed to Westy that he started a little. Then he continued to look again. “I guess I’m plumb crazy, boys,” he began, “but I cud a-swore I seed one o’ them durn flashlights afore on thet precipice, movin’ back’n forth.” Artie and Westy straightened up, aroused. They knew Uncle Jeb was never given to seeing things. But, to their disappointment, they couldn’t discern anything up on the cliff at all. The moon was still in its infancy, and around the hollow and through the Pass one could not penetrate the inky blackness. “Yit,” said Uncle Jeb, as if trying to reason it out with himself, “I’m as shure of it as I kin be, but then thar isn’t a pusson aroun’ these parts thet would go up on a bet, ’ceptin’ you rascals!” They laughed at the faint hint of admiration that would creep into his voice whenever he referred to the incident. Resuming his thoughtful preoccupation, they tried to concentrate their vision also, but soon gave it up. Evidently, Uncle Jeb discerned nothing further either, as he arose and yawned sleepily. Putting the fire out they all turned in. Now Westy, being the romantic and imaginative boy he was, lay rolled in his blankets, gazing fixedly at the stars overhead. The cool night wind caressed his face, as he pondered and turned over in his mind what Uncle Jeb had mentioned about no one around those parts who would dare venture up on the cliff. He suddenly remembered with a thrill the discovery he had made and forgotten about until now. There was no doubt about it, now that he came to think of it again. The day that Artie and he ascended that forbidden trail, the marks were perfectly plain. Another person had traveled that trail, other than they. CHAPTER XXXV—GHOSTS How long he lay awake thinking about this, Westy did not know. In fact, he could not even remember having fallen asleep at all.