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for secrets of the ravine。 So deep and dark and cool was this sequestered nook
that here late summer had not dislodged early spring。 Everywhere was a soft；
fresh； bright green。 The old gray cliffs were festooned with ferns； lichens
and moss。 Under a great； shelving rock； damp and stained by the copper…colored
water dripping down its side； was a dewy dell into which the sunshine had
never peeped。 Here the swift brook tarried lovingly； making a wide turn under
the cliff； as though loth to leave this quiet nook； and then leaped once more
to enthusiasm in its murmuring flight。
Life abounded in this wild； beautiful； almost inaccessible spot。 Little brown
and yellow birds flitted among the trees； thrushes ran along the leaf…strewn
ground； orioles sang their melancholy notes； robins and flickers darted
beneath the spreading branches。 Squirrels scurried over the leaves like little
whirlwinds； and leaped daringly from the swinging branches or barked noisily
from woody perches。 Rabbits hopped inquisitively here and there while nibbling
at the tender shoots of sassafras and laurel。
Along this flower…skirted stream a tall young man； carrying a rifle cautiously
stepped； peering into the branches overhead。 A gray flash shot along a limb of
a white oak； then the bushy tail of a squirrel flitted into a well…protected
notch； from whence； no doubt； a keen little eye watched the hunter's every
movement。
The rifle was raised； then lowered。 The hunter walked around the tree。
Presently up in the tree top； snug under a knotty limb； he spied a little ball
of gray fur。 Grasping a branch of underbush； he shook it vigorously。 The
thrashing sound worried the gray squirrel； for he slipped from his retreat and
stuck his nose Over the limb。 CRACK！ With a scratching and tearing of bark the
squirrel loosened his hold and then fell； alighting with a thump。 As the
hunter picked up his quarry a streak of sunshine glinting through the tree top
brightened his face。
The hunter was Joe。
He was satisfied now； for after stowing the squirrel in the pocket of his
hunting coat he shouldered his rifle and went back up the ravine。 Presently a
dull roar sounded above the babble of the brook。 It grew louder as he threaded
his way carefully over the stones。 Spots of white foam flecked the brook。
Passing under the gray； stained cliff； Joe turned around a rocky corner； and
came to an abrupt end of the ravine。 A waterfall marked the spot where the
brook entered。 The water was brown as it took the leap； light green when it
thinned out； and below； as it dashed on the stones； it became a beautiful；
sheeny white。
Upon a flat rock； so near the cascade that spray flew over him； sat another
hunter。 The roaring falls drowned all other sounds； yet the man roused from
his dreamy contemplation of the waterfall when Joe rounded the corner。
〃I heerd four shots；〃 he said； as Joe came up。
〃Yes； I got a squirrel for every shot。〃
Wetzel led the way along a narrow foot trail which gradually wound toward the
top of the ravine。 This path emerged presently； some distance above the falls；
on the brink of a bluff。 It ran along the edge of the precipice a few yards；
then took a course back into densely wooded thickets。 Just before stepping out
on the open cliff Wetzel paused and peered keenly on all sides。 There was no
living thing to be seen； the silence was the deep； unbroken calm of the
wilderness。
Wetzel stepped to the bluff and looked over。 The stony wall opposite was only
thirty feet away； and somewhat lower。 From Wetzel's action it appeared as if
he intended to leap the fissure。 In truth； many a band of Indians pursuing the
hunter into this rocky fastness had come out on the bluff； and； marveling at
what they thought Wetzel's prowess； believed he had made a wonderful leap；
thus eluding them。 But he had never attempted that leap； first； because he
knew it was well…nigh impossible； and secondly； there had never been any
necessity for such risk。
Any one leaning over this cliff would have observed； perhaps ten feet below； a
narrow ledge projecting from the face of the rock。 He would have imagined if
he were to drop on that ledge there would be no way to get off and he would be
in a worse predicament。
Without a moment's hesitation Wetzel swung himself over the ledge。 Joe
followed suit。 At one end of this lower ledge grew a hardy shrub of the
ironwood species； and above it a scrub pine leaned horizontally out over the
ravine。 Laying his rifle down； Wetzel grasped a strong root and cautiously
slid over the side。 When all of his body had disappeared； with the exception
of his sinewy fingers； they loosened their hold on the root； grasped the
rifle； and dragged it down out of sight。 Quietly； with similar caution； Joe
took hold of the same root； let himself down； and when at full length swung
himself in under the ledge。 His feet found a pocket in the cliff。 Letting go
of the root； he took his rifle； and in another second was safe。
Of all Wetzel's retreatsfor he had manyhe considered this one the safest。
The cavern under the ledge he had discovered by accident。 One day； being hotly
pursued by Shawnees； he had been headed off on this cliff； and had let himself
down on the ledge； intending to drop from it to the tops of the trees below。
Taking advantage of every little aid； he hung over by means of the shrub； and
was in the act of leaping when he saw that the cliff shelved under the ledge；
while within reach of his feet was the entrance to a cavern。 He found the cave
to be small with an opening at the back into a split in the rock。 Evidently
the place had been entered from the rear by bears； who used the hole for
winter sleeping quarters。 By crawling on his hands and knees； Wetzel found
the rear opening。 Thus he had established a hiding place where it was almost
impossible to locate him。 He provisioned his retreat； which he always entered
by the cliff and left by the rear。
An evidence of Wetzel's strange nature； and of his love for this wild home；
manifested itself when he bound Joe to secrecy。 It was unlikely； even if the
young man ever did get safely out of the wilderness； that any stories he might
relate would reveal the hunter's favorite rendezvous。 But Wetzel seriously
demanded this secrecy； as earnestly as if the forest were full of Indians and
white men； all prowling in search of his burrow。
Joe was in the seventh heaven of delight； and took to the free life as a wild
gosling takes to the water。 No place had ever appealed to him as did this
dark； silent hole far up on the side of a steep cliff。 His interest in Wetzel
soon passed into a great admiration； and from that deepened to love。
This afternoon； when they were satisfied that all was well within their
refuge； Joe laid aside his rifle； and； whistling softly； began to prepare
supper。 The back part of the cave permitted him to stand erect； and was large
enough for comparative comfort。 There was a