the faint night breeze moved them backward and forward.

"There's a ledge up there," whispered the youngster. "Look! It's about
fifty feet from the ground. If we could climb a tree we might be able to
reach it from one of the limbs."

He had hardly outlined the proposition before we were swarming up the
trunk, Holman in the lead by right of discovery, and the nimble Kaipi in
the rear. Higher and higher the youngster climbed into the thick green
foliage. He reached the topmost branches, and selecting one that led
toward the rocky wall, he straddled it and worked his way slowly
forward.

Kaipi and I clung to the fork of the limb and waited, and as I watched
Holman the wisdom of our actions was assailed by a cold doubt. We had
left the two girls entirely unprotected, and if Leith reached the camp
before we returned, and heard from the chattering Professor the story of
the finding of the scrap of paper, it would be reasonable to suppose
that he would consider the moment had arrived for the perpetration of
any deviltry he had planned.

But Holman's actions interrupted my mental criticism of the wisdom of
our plans. The youngster had reached the extreme end of the limb, and he
was clawing madly at the rock to obtain a footing. He succeeded after a
five minutes' struggle, and he sent a breathless whisper back to our
perch.

"There's a ledge here," he murmured. "I think we can climb up from it.
Hurry along, and I'll give you a hand."