After weaving his way through the thick band of trees along the base of the chain of foothills without striking what could be considered a healthy stream, he stopped to consider. He reminded himself that he had overheard Blue crying out that it was a thirty-minute ride back to the cabin. If that was true, then the stream he had just left had to be the only one the cabin was on. He had to figure he had missed the tracks he was looking for, so he decided to turn back and look again. He had a strong feeling now that the cabin he looked for was high up the mountain before the stream went underground. One thing for sure, when he had been standing there, watching the water splash out of the face of that cliff, there was no way to climb up that way. The challenge was to find out how Tater had ridden up to the cabin. There was evidently an easier way up. So, Hawk turned around and went back the way he had come. Upon reaching the creek again, he rode up it until coming to the spot where he had lost Tater’s trail. Just before reaching the cliff, the trail had crossed a rocky shelf that stopped at the stream. He had assumed that Tater had continued on across the shelf to the stream. But he had found no tracks on the other side of the stream. On foot now, he backtracked the trail, looking for some sign that would tell him Tater had left the trail before he reached the stream.

While Rascal drank from the stream, Hawk walked back across the rocks once again looking for sign he felt had to be there. Walking almost to the start of the rocky ledge, he stopped short when he saw it, a narrow path that started between two boulders. When he first glanced at it, it appeared to be nothing more than a path into the solid face of the rock wall. When he walked over to stand inside the boulders, he discovered a passage that led around the rock wall. Well, I’ll be . . . he thought, because he knew he had found the path to the hideout. There were no tracks on the flat rock shelf. He whistled softly, and the big buckskin came to him at once. Due to the narrowness of the path, he thought it better to lead Rascal. Even then, it was a tight fit for a horse. He tried to imagine five men with packhorses negotiating the constricting double turns before reaching the upper end of the rock formation. Once clear of the rocks, the path, though not so confining, was still well hidden as it climbed up through the trees and away from the stream.