IN LUCK AGAIN
"Frank! Oh, Frank!"
No longer did Lanky feel that sickening sensation in the pit of his
stomach at having the solid ground underfoot heaving and grumbling. So,
almost unconsciously, he had shrieked out that one word--the name of
his faithful chum, on whose arm he had come to lean as though it were
indeed a tower of strength.
"I'm here close by you, Lanky!" he heard.
"But you're not badly hurt, I hope, Frank?" burst out the other, a new
anxiety discernible in his quavering voice.
"Nothing to cripple me--a few bruises, and such things. How about you?"
"Not saying a word, I'm so tickled to be alive. The bumps I got were
just gentle taps to what I might have picked up, if only we hadn't been
just on the outer edge of the slide."
When once more they came in contact the grateful boys shook hands in
mutual congratulation.
"As near a miracle as ever I expect to run across, that's right," Lanky
asserted. "And, Frank, the wind storm that started all this business
going has petered out."
It was indeed a fact, for no longer did the boys catch that roaring
series of noises as the storm rushed over the mountains. The black
clouds hid the heavens, however, and made such a pall that it was
almost dark around them.
"Let's try to have a look-in," suggested the once-more eager Lanky.
"We'll see what sort of new stamping ground we've lit on after our run
down on the avalanche."
All about them great masses of rock and trees that had come down from
above, were piled up in confused heaps, with strange looking gullies
lying between that Lanky started to call coulees, after the Western way.
"One thing's sure," said Frank, after they had climbed around for a
short time, with more or less difficulty; "we're not going to get back
to camp this night. As darkness comes on it would be foolish for us to
keep moving about in this wilderness of upturned things."
"I reckon you told the truth when you said that," admitted the other,
grasping the still serious nature of their predicament. "Why, we might
start another slide on the jump! Some of these boulders seem to be set
on a pivot and the least shove would set 'em rolling, knocking others
off their perch, and--Frank! what's that long split off there that
looks as if the face of the rocks had been burst open?"
"Just what happened here, Lanky; but not with this slide. It might be
a thousand, or ten thousand, years ago when that big fissure was made.
Let's crawl over that way and investigate."
"Well, I'm going to be prepared for anything," ventured the other. "I
want to say that we were some lucky not to lose our guns when coming
down on that toboggan slide. Sometimes these black-looking caves are
dens for wild animals."
"All right," said Frank quickly. "Keep on your guard, then. But you
mustn't forget we're out skirmishing for a cave; and on that account we
ought to look this one over."
A brief investigation convinced the two boys that it was too big an
undertaking for them to handle that afternoon.
"This is as good a place for us to camp in as any," suggested Frank.
"If we're of the same mind in the morning, why, we'll put in some work
here. I don't know just why I should feel that way, but some sort of
hunch seems to tell me we'll find something worth our while if we go
far enough."
"Wow! but it's as black as my pocket inside there, Frank." As he said
this Lanky, on hands and knees, was staring past the guardian jaws of
rock into the ugly looking fissure.
"That's why we'll have to wait for morning before we try to explore
what lies inside the mountain," replied Frank.
"You mean we'll have to lay in some torches, so as to see our way--is
that the idea, Frank?"
"A whole lot of faggots that will burn, but not too fast," the other
answered, having already mapped out this part of the scheme. "You can
understand what a pickle we'd be up against, wandering around in an
unknown cavern with our last torch flickering to its wind-up."
"That would be tough, I own up, Frank; I hope it doesn't come along.
But we sure do seem to get our feet in a heap of stirring happenings.
It's like jumping out of the frying pan into the fire with us these
days. But say, when do we eat, I'd like to know?"
Frank chuckled as he went on to say:
"Finished the last crumb of our lunch at noon, you remember." At the
words his companion in trouble emitted a groan and began to rub the pit
of his stomach sympathetically. "But wait till you hear how manna seems
to come down to us, as it did to the Children of Israel in the Arabian
desert long years ago. Look over yonder, Lanky. What do you see, boy?
Tell me!"
Lanky looked, started, and rubbed his eyes, half suspecting that he
must be "seeing things" that had no actual foundation.
"Frank-- Why, say, it er--looks like a deer!" he exclaimed.
"It is a deer--caught in the big jam and killed clean by that rock
covering its head. A young buck in the bargain, I'd say, and just
begging to be cut into slices for two hungry fellows' supper."
"Lead me to it, Frank!" ejaculated Lanky, as he drew his hunting-knife.
"Talk to me about favorites of fortune, we're sure the luckiest fellows
west of the old Mississippi. Venison for supper--plenty of it for a
whole week--and thrown in front of us like that!" snapping his fingers.
"Whoopee! what's the use worrying when things come tumbling along by
themselves?"
So the two boys settled down to making camp then and there. Frank
started his fire, with a vast abundance of fine fuel to be had for the
picking up, while Lanky undertook to skin the deer. He then cut off
steak and chops until Frank warned him they were only two in the mess,
and not a whole regiment.
As evening drew near they sat down to enjoy a fine spread, cooked
in genuine hunters' style, with no limit to anything save their own
capacity.
The sky cleared as they sat there, and it was difficult for them to
realize that only a few hours before all nature seemed to be reeling
and rocking and being turned upside-down in a vast convulsion.
Morning arrived, and after a good breakfast they cooked quite a lot
of the venison, to carry along with them in their exploration of the
promising cave back of the jaws of the wide fissure.
Next they fashioned a pile of inflammable torches by the aid of Lanky's
handy little camp hatchet, which he always carried attached to his belt
and had often found valuable for use in emergencies like the present.
"All ready, Frank! Let's get a move on!" announced the impatient one,
as he bound a large share of the torches to his back, picked up his
gun, and awaited the word to make the plunge.
One torch at a time was all they intended to use, since it would give
enough illumination for their purpose and almost double the capacity of
their stock in hand.
"Fills the bill like fun," announced Lanky, after Frank had succeeded
in lighting a billet of dry wood, the flare really illuminating the
walled-in space between the rocky barriers. "Now to find out if this is
going to lead two plucky prospectors to the corn-crib where they'll get
their fill."
As the boys proceeded it became evident the strange fissure in the side
of the rocky mountain was but a "breathing space," as Lanky called it,
for much more wonderful things hidden further in the underground depths.
Sometimes Frank held the blazing torch, and then when a fresh one
happened to be needed it would be Lanky who gripped it.
Several times they feared they had come upon the end of the passage.
In each instance, however, a fresh way to continue was found, even
though it was necessary for them to get down flat and wriggle along in
snake-like fashion.
"Huh! we'll remember this last crawl as 'Fat Man's Misery,'" Lanky
granted, after negotiating the difficult place successfully.
"It's got me guessing where we'll be apt to come out, what with all
this twisting and turning," observed Frank, still later on, as they
found themselves looking upon a capacious cavern, with a lofty ceiling
where stalactites hung like immense icicles.
"And it's bothering me," spoke up Lanky, "how we could find any outlet
at all, if our supply of torches or matches should give out. What with
all this hard work, I'm as thirsty as--Frank, we made a foozle play
after all!"
"Forgot to fetch any water along--that's a fact," admitted the other,
realizing the mistake when it was too late to remedy it. Then, on
second thought, he continued: "After all, we hadn't even a canteen
to hold any supply. Besides, I reckon there's aplenty dripping from
these stalactites and trickling down the walls. It ought to quench our
thirst."
Lanky tried the plan and found there was no taste to the cold water,
though it certainly must contain more or less lime, to make those odd
formations.
They had left this monster cavern and were passing along another chain
of queer-shaped pockets, all connected, when Lanky, who held the torch,
came to a sudden pause, so that Frank bumped into him.
"What's the matter?" demanded Frank.
"I glimpsed a pair of yellow eyes ahead! And listen to the growling,
will you?" gasped Lanky.