CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.
THE ESCAPE OF THE KITE.
The joy, which all felt at the miraculous escape of Ossaroo, more than compensated for their chagrin at the circumstance of the kite having returned to them: more especially, as they believed that the accident was not without remedy.

It might be attributed to the wind: which no doubt had lifted the kite from where it lay, detaching it from the rock, or whatever other object that had for the time entangled it.
They doubted not, but that they might again succeed in sending it up, and getting it fast as before; and this confidence hindered them from grieving over the unfortunate occurrence, as they might otherwise have done.
As the wind on that day was in the wrong quarter for flying a kite towards the cliff, they determined to postpone the attempt, till a more favourable opportunity; and, in order that their kite should not be in danger of getting spoiled by the rain, they once more shouldered, and carried it back, rope and all, to the shelter of the hut.
Nearly a week elapsed, before there was a breeze that blew in their favour; but during this interval, they had not been altogether unemployed.

Still uncertain of the length of time they might be detained in the valley, they had passed almost every hour of the daylight in increasing their stock of provisions--so as not to encroach upon the cured venison of the ibex, of which a considerable quantity was still to the good.
Their guns were no longer used for procuring food.

The last loads still remained in the barrels; and were not to be fired off--until every other means of capturing game should fail them.
Indeed, they were now so confident of being able to get out of their prison, that at times they almost fancied themselves already on their way down the mountains; and talked of keeping their guns loaded, against any danger from large animals they might encounter on their homeward journey.

For procuring food they knew that firearms were not necessary.
Ossaroo's bow was sufficient weapon for that.