AN UNDERGROUND CRUISE
"Paddle on, quick!" cried Ned in an agony of fear. "We may reach a break
in the cliff."
Nugget, who was half a canoe's length in advance had sufficiently
presence of mind to obey. He paddled off with desperate strokes, and Ned
crowded him closely.
A few yards down stream the wall of rock jutted out slightly and then
receded. As the canoes rounded this a great heaving wave--the vanguard
of the flood--tossed them high on its crest and cast them, like a stone
from a catapult, straight toward a black, semi-circular hole in the base
of the cliff. A furious current swept in the same direction, and even
had the boys realized the nature of this new peril they could have done
nothing to help themselves.
Nugget dropped his paddle with a cry of terror and clutched the combing.
The next instant he shot into the gaping hole, scraping his cap from his
head by contact with the top, and disappeared from view.
Ned was dazed by what he had just witnessed, and his turn came before he
realized it. He had hardly time to twist his paddle around longwise and
duck his head when the current sucked him under the cliff. He heard a
quick, grating noise, and then the dim gleam of light faded, leaving him
in utter darkness.
The canoe pitched and tossed dizzily, and by the cold air that surged on
his face, and the spray that spattered him, Ned knew that he was moving
at rapid speed. Suddenly a cry rang in his ears with the sharpness of a
pistol shot and reverberated through the cavern. An instant later he
felt a violent concussion on the right, and reaching out his hand he
touched the combing of Nugget's canoe.
He clung to it with all his might and managed to keep the two canoes
side by side as the current whirled them on through the darkness.
Nugget was not aware of this at first, for he uttered another piercing
cry for help. It was impossible to carry on any conversation owing to
the confused booming noise made by the water, but Ned leaned to one side
and shouted at the top of his voice: "Cheer up, Nugget. I'm here beside
you. We'll find a way out of this."
Nugget must have heard and understood, for he was silent after that.
It was characteristic of Ned to cheer his companion. He was thoroughly
unselfish, and was always more concerned about others than himself. In
this case his consoling words meant nothing. He was still dazed by the
overwhelming calamity that had befallen him, and had not begun to
realize its extent.
He remembered the lantern that was in the forward hatch and the match
safe in his pocket, but the former was out of reach and the latter was
on his right side. He could not get it with his left hand, and he was
afraid to trust the holding of the canoes to Nugget. So a light was out
of the question at the present time.
The painful suspense of the next few minutes made them seem like hours.
The canoes whirled on and on with a dizzy swaying motion, but not the
faintest ray of light broke the intensity of the darkness.
Ned cautiously thrust his paddle out to the left, and it struck
something hard with a ringing noise. He did not repeat the experiment
for fear of upsetting.
All at once the roar of the water seemed to deepen, and the canoes
settled into a swift, steady rush that made the air fairly sing about
Ned's ears. What followed was never very clear to him afterward. He
remembered a dash of icy spray in his face, and then a terrible
collision that landed him somewhere on his hands and knees.
He was stunned and dizzy for a little while, and when finally he
staggered to his feet his first thought was of Nugget. He called him by
name, and a hollow groan was the only reply. Even that was better than
silence, and with a trembling hand Ned drew out his match box and struck
a light.
Both canoes lay upset at his feet, and between them was Nugget leaning
on his elbows with a very dazed expression on his face.
Three more matches enabled Ned to right the Pioneer, procure his
lantern, and light it. Then, seeing that Nugget was uninjured, he
scrutinized his surroundings more closely.
He understood at once what had happened. The underground stream made a
sharp curve at this point, and the force of the current had thrown the
canoes far out on a sandy beach. From above, the yellow flood came
roaring and tossing through a passage some twenty feet wide, and nearly
the same in height. Below the angle it plunged on under the same
conditions.
The beach was about ten yards long, and sloped back half that distance
to a slimy wall of rock. On the opposite side of the stream the wall
fell sheer into the water, and overhead was a jagged roof that glittered
and sparkled in the rays of the lantern.
Ned formed his own conclusions as to the nature of the place, and they
were not entirely unfavorable, for the speed and impetuosity of the
muddy stream had given him a good deal to think about. He dismissed his
reflections until a more favorable time, and placing the lantern on the
sand turned to Nugget, who was in a pitiable state of fright.
"Are you hurt any, old fellow?" asked Ned, "or only a little stunned?"
"Oh, I don't know, I don't know," moaned Nugget. "What awful place are
we in, Ned? It seems like a dream. I hardly remember what happened. And
where are Clay and Randy?"
"I hope they are safe," replied Ned evasively. "In fact, I really think
they are, Nugget. They landed some distance below us, and no doubt found
a place to climb out before the flood caught them."
"And what happened to us, Ned? Didn't the current drag us into a hole in
the cliff?"
"Yes," said Ned, "that's it exactly, and we are now in an underground
cavern. Don't be alarmed," he added quickly, noting the sudden pallor on
his companion's face, "our situation is not so terrible after all.
Caverns of this sort are always found among limestone hills, and they
usually have two outlets. This one is no exception to the rule, and I'll
tell you why I think so. In the first place you must remember that the
creek was nearly four feet high before that dam broke. The extra volume
of water is what makes this terrific current through the cavern and the
very fact that the water goes on through without damming up proves to me
that it has an outlet.
"When the creek is at its normal level I don't believe any water flows
into the cavern at all, and even with a four foot raise I don't think
much goes through. It was the first rush of the flood that carried us
into the hole. And now do you see what I am driving at? As soon as the
back water from Honck's dam has spent itself--and it can't take very
long--the stream in front of us will become shallow, and then all we
need to do is to follow it down to the outlet. It probably cuts across
some bend and re-enters the creek. And we have penetrated such a
distance from the mouth that the outlet can't be far away. I can't swear
to all this, Nugget, but I am pretty well convinced that I am right. A
very short time will settle the question one way or another."
"I hope what you say will come true," replied Nugget dolefully. "This is
a horrible place to be in. It gives me the shivers to think of it. But
if all the water runs out, won't we have to leave our canoes behind?" he
added quickly.
"We won't wait that long," said Ned. "Don't be downhearted. There is
surely a way out of this cavern, and we'll find it. Our situation might
be far worse than it is. We have matches and a lantern, and there are
crackers in my canoe."
"Are there?" exclaimed Nugget eagerly. "I think I'll eat a few. You're
an awfully good fellow, Ned. I don't feel half as bad now."
"It's a good sign to be hungry," replied Ned laughingly. He brought some
of the crackers, and both ate them as they sat side by side on the
sand.