220 MARTIN RATTLER.

It flowed down the valley between high rocks, and,
a few hundred yards below the pool, it ran straight
against the face of a precipice and there terminated
to all appearance ; but a gurgling vortex in the deep
_water at the base of the cliff, and the disappearance
of everything that entered it, showed that the stream
found a subterranean passage. There was no sign of
its reappearance, however, in all the country round.
In short, the river was lost in the bowels of the
earth.

From the pool to the cliff where the river was
engulfed the water ran like a mill-race, and there
was no spot on either bank where any one could land,
or even grasp with his hand, except one. It was a
narrow, sharp rock that jutted out about two feet
from the bank, quite close to the vortex of the whirl-
pool. This rock was Martin’s only hope. To miss
it would be certain destruction. But if he should
gain a footing on it he knew that he could climb by
a narrow fissure into a wild, cavernous spot, which it
was exceedingly difficult to reach from any other
point. A bend in the river concealed this rock and
the vortex from the place whereon he stood, so that
he hoped to be able to reach the point of escape before
the savage could descend the slope and gain the

summit of the cliff from whence it could be seen.