just as quickly. In his mind's eye he could see his father helpless at the bottom of the cliffs, with a broken leg or a fractured rib, or suffering for the want of food and warmth. Such thoughts were terrifying, and caused him to shudder from head to foot.
"This must be the place!"
He spoke the words as he came to a spot where footprints In the snow were plainly visible. He looked around eagerly and made out where his father had slipped from that cliff to the hollow below. Here was a long icy slide, and Dave did not dare to venture too close to the brink, for fear of going over.
"That hollow must be at least a hundred feet deep," reasoned the youth. "How am I ever to get down there?"
He called out, but no answer came back. Then he walked slowly to the far end of the cliff, behind and over some jagged rocks which at first seemed to completely bar the way.
He heaved a long sigh, then looked at the very end of the cliff. Here the rocks were notched and uneven, and he found a spot where he could drop a distance of fifteen feet in safety. But after that?
"If I get down there perhaps I won't be able to get back—if I want to," he reasoned. "But I'm going down, anyway—and find out what became of father," he added, recklessly.
