DESPAIR
In the course of an hour Ned's prediction began to be verified. The roar
of the flood ceased entirely, and the water receded from the beach until
the stream looked as shallow and quiet as a meadow brook. Ned waded
clear across to the opposite wall without going over his knees.
"The flood from the dam has spent itself. I'm afraid we'll have to wade
through and pull the canoes after us. I can see shoals and ledges not
far below. I'll lead the way with the lantern."
This proposition was far from pleasing to Nugget, but he uttered no
remonstrance. He had implicit faith in Ned by this time.
The canoes were pulled into the water, and without delay the boys
started down the gloomy channel. They pushed the canoes ahead of them,
and in this way supported themselves and lessened the danger of
slipping.
For a while they made fair progress and encountered but few shoals. The
stream was nowhere more than knee deep.
Under these favorable circumstances Ned relaxed his caution, and the
consequence was that his feet slipped on the smooth stone, and down he
went into a pretty deep hole. The lantern fell from his hand was
extinguished, and the canoe shot ahead of him.
Nugget's cry of alarm was the first thing that Ned heard when he
recovered his footing, and he found himself almost breast deep in water.
He was shivering with cold--and with something else as well, for he
realized the full meaning of the disaster, and for a moment he was sick
and faint.
"I'm all right, Nugget," he shouted. "Stay where you are. Don't move a
foot."
Then he waded cautiously forward until the channel was knee deep again,
and shaking the water from his hands as well as he could, he drew out
the precious match and struck a light.
His canoe had lodged on a reef a few feet down stream, but the lantern
was gone beyond recovery. The situation was serious. Nugget's lantern
was in Randy's canoe, and worse than all, only four matches remained in
the box.
"It's a bad fix," thought Ned; "but we must make the best of it.
Nugget," he added aloud, "push your canoe along the right side. I think
the water is shallow there."
Nugget obeyed, and joined his companion without difficulty.
"Have you any matches?" asked Ned.
"Not a single one." Nugget went through his pockets to make sure, and
turned a shade whiter when he saw Ned's scanty stock, two of which were
already exhausted.
"This is terrible," he exclaimed huskily. "What can we do now?"
"Not very much," replied Ned. "Keep your spirits up, though; that's the
important thing. Here, take these, and burn one at a time."
He handed the match box to Nugget, and quickly drew the canoes side by
side. He took a stout fishing line from his pocket and tied them
together at bow and stern.
Then he rummaged the hatches in a vain search for something that would
burn. Even the paper that was around some of the bundles was damp from
spray and leakage.
"Well, Nugget, we must make the best of it," he said. "All we can do is
to push on in the dark. Is that the last match?"
"One left," answered Nugget dolefully, and heaved a long sigh.
"Don't use it, then. It may come in handy later on. The situation is not
as bad as it looks. We can stick close together and push the canoes
ahead of us. In that way we won't run any risk of striking the wall. Of
course we can't move very rapidly, but our getting out of the cavern is
only a question of time."
"I hope it won't take long," said Nugget. "A day or two of this would
drive me mad."
Just then the match he was holding burnt to the end and fell in the
water. He restored the box to Ned, and taking hold of the canoes at the
stern ends, they moved slowly through the darkness.
No words can adequately describe the suffering and thoughts of the two
lads during the next hour. Nugget could not repress an occasional
complaint, and even the stout hearted Ned felt at times as though he
must cry out.
The fate of Clay and Randy weighed almost as heavily upon him as his own
misfortunes. He knew their chance of escape had been very slight, and he
feared they had not been able to take advantage of it. Little wonder
then that he looked forward with almost equal dread and joy to reaching
the end of the cavern.
That ordeal, however, promised to be long delayed. It was a painfully
laborious task to accomplish even a snail-like progress through the dark
passage.
What lay before them the boys could only imagine, and they constantly
feared some calamity. It was impossible to keep the canoes straight.
They veered to right and left, striking the rocky sides of the channel,
which actually seemed to be growing narrower.
Every few moments they stuck fast on a shoal or submerged reef, and then
Ned had to feel his way to the front with his paddle, and dislodge them
by main force. The water was of variable depth, and half a dozen times
the boys suddenly plunged breast deep into a hole, but fortunately did
not let go of the canoes.
At the end of an hour the situation was unchanged. As yet not a ray of
light was visible ahead. Ned cheered his companion with hopeful words,
and both struggled on and on, straining their eyes through the gloom to
catch the first glimpse of light.
They felt that their powers of endurance would soon be spent. They were
intensely weary, and chilled to the bone by their dripping clothes.
Contact with the rocks had bruised their hands and feet, and every step
was a torture.
At last the canoes grounded on some yielding surface and refused to
budge. Ned staggered forward and found their prows imbedded in what he
judged to be a bar of sand and gravel stretching across the channel. He
walked on a few steps to ascertain its width, and was amazed and
frightened by coming in contact with a solid wall of rock.
"Come here, quick, Nugget!" he called hoarsely.
Nugget waded alongside the canoes, and was soon on the bar.
"What is it?" he cried. "Anything wrong?"
For answer Ned took the last match from the little metal box, and
lighted it.
As the little blaze flared up the boys looked curiously about them. One
brief glimpse revealed the awful truth. The sandy bar was in reality the
end of the passage. Beyond it rose a smooth, slimy wall, and overhead
was a low jagged roof dripping with moisture. The canoes lay in a quiet
pool of water that was as dead and void of current as a mill pond.