"You know this lets me off from my promise," said he, nodding backward
toward his elbows. "I'll get away if I can."
Saleratus Bill, for the first time, permitted himself a smile.
"There's two ways out of this place," said he--"where we come in, and
over north on the trail. You can see every inch--both ways--from here.
Besides, don't make no mistakes. I'll shoot you if you make a break."
Bob nodded.
"I believe you," said he.
As though to convince Bob of the utter helplessness of any attempt,
Saleratus Bill, leaving the dishes unwashed, led the way in a tour of
the valley. Save where the wagon road descended and where the steep side
hill of the north wall arose, the boundaries were utterly precipitous.
From a narrow gorge, flanked by water-smoothed rock aprons, the river
boiled between glassy perpendicular cliffs.
"There ain't no swimming-holes in that there river," remarked Saleratus
Bill grimly.
Bob, leaning forward, could just catch a glimpse of the torrent raging
and buffeting in the narrow box canon, above which the mountains rose
tremendous. No stream growths had any chance there.
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