I'd like it better if they were a hundred miles away instead of only a few hundred yards.

But lead on, Tayoga, and we'll say what we think of this inn of yours when we see it." The hollow was not so bad, an indentation in the stone, extending back perhaps three feet, and almost hidden by dwarfed evergreens and climbing vines.

It was not visible twenty feet above or below, and it would have escaped any eye less keen than that of the Onondaga.
"You've done well, Tayoga," said Willet.

"There are better inns in Albany and New York, but it's a pretty good place to be found in the side of a cliff fifteen hundred feet above the water." "We'll be snug enough here." They crawled into the hollow, matted the vines carefully in front of them to guard against a slip or an incautious step, and then the three lay back against the wall, feeling an immense relief.

While not so worn as Robert, the bones and muscles of Willet and Tayoga also were calling out for rest.
"I'm glad I'm here," said the hunter, and the others were forced to laugh at his intense earnestness.
Robert sank against the wall of the cliff, and he felt an immense peace.