THE ESCAPE
“Climb up, Andy! Climb up! Every time you see a lightning flash!”
“But where are we going, Frank?”
“Out of this cave! Don’t you see what has happened? There’s a hole in
the roof, and it slopes right down to us here. Crawl up on your hands
and knees, but don’t slip back. It’s our only chance!”
It was a few minutes after the stunning crash that had actually opened
up a way of escape for the two lads imprisoned in the cave. Frank was
quick to see and take advantage of it. A sort of sloping way was now
before them, and it was possible to crawl up along it.
But there was danger, too, for the rain was pouring in through the
opening in the roof—a veritable stream of water, probably diverted from
some puddles that had gathered from the heavy downpour. And to climb up
through this, along a muddy, slimy slope, was no easy task. But it was
their only means of escape, for back of them the tide was still rising
relentlessly.
“All ready, Andy?” called Frank.
“As ready as I ever shall be,” was the grim answer.
“Well, don’t move except when you see where you’re going by means of the
flashes. It’s the only safe way. Go ahead; I’ll follow.”
Slowly the younger lad took his feet and hands from the niches. He was
stiff from holding the same position so long, but his young blood was
soon in circulation again. He crawled out on the slope. It was quite
steep, but considerable earth had been jarred and washed from it so that
it was no worse than going up the peaked roof of a house, and Andy and
his brother had often done this in carrying out some of their boyish
pranks.
Slowly and painfully the younger lad toiled upward, followed by his
anxious brother. It was but a comparatively short distance up which to
climb, but going on their hands and knees made it seem doubly long.
Finally it was accomplished, however, and Andy crawled out of the ragged
hole and stretched out on the wet earth above, almost exhausted.
“Come! Get up!” cried Frank, as he finished the perilous journey and
sought to raise his brother. “You mustn’t lie there. You’ll get cold and
stiff. Move around—get warmed up. We’re safe now, Andy! Safe!”
“Yes, I know, but I’m so tired—I—I want a rest.”
“There’ll be time enough to rest when we get to some shelter. It’s
raining cats and dogs, and we can’t get much wetter. Let’s see if we can
make out where we are, and maybe we can get back to camp, and find some
grub. I’m starved.”
“So am I. What time is it?”
“My watch has stopped,” answered Frank, looking at the timepiece by a
lightning flash. “The water did it.”
“Mine’s not going either. Well, let’s see if we can find our camp. Some
grub wouldn’t be bad. Only we’ve got to look out for that man.”
“Which side shall we go down?” asked Frank, as they paused on the summit
of the cliff.
“It’s hard to decide,” answered Andy. “Let’s try this,” and he motioned
to the left.
Down they went, slipping and stumbling, pausing now and then to get
their breaths, and again to speak of the terrible fate they had escaped.
“Don’t mention it any more,” begged Andy with a shudder. “I can’t bear
to think of that tide rising—rising all the while, and no way of getting
out!”
“Lightning probably struck a place on top where the earth was thinner
than anywhere else, made a hole, and the rain did the rest,” was Frank’s
theory.
[Illustration: THE RACER BOYS STUMBLED ON IN THE DARKNESS.]
Drenched to the skin, covered with mud from the climb up the slope,
tired and weary, the Racer boys stumbled on in the darkness. Sometimes
they fell over huge boulders or were tripped on outcropping tree roots.
But they did not halt until they were on the sandy beach, where the big
waves were pounding. There, at least, the going was easier.
“Now, which way?” asked Andy, as they halted to rest.
“It’s hard to say. Camp might lie in either direction, and it’s too dark
to see. I guess it doesn’t make much difference. We’ll come up to it by
morning, anyhow, if we can keep going that long. Let’s head off this
way.”
Frank started to circle the island shore to the right, and Andy
followed. At times the rain would cease, and then it would begin its
downpour again. The lightning was less frequent, but they did not need
the flashes to guide them now.
That night seemed almost a year long, they said afterward. Sometimes
they fell from very weariness, only to get up again and struggle on.
Frank placed his arm about his brother and half carried him at times.
They covered many miles. As yet they had seen no indication of their
“camp,” as they called the place on the beach opposite where they had
left the _Gull_ riding at anchor, and where they had placed their small
boat and a supply of provisions.
“We must have come the wrong way, and have almost made a circuit of the
island,” said Andy wearily.
“Never mind, it can’t be much farther off now,” and Frank tried to speak
cheerfully. But it was hard work.
The rain had ceased for some time now, and, looking up the boys saw the
faint gleam of stars.
“It’s going to clear,” observed Andy.
“Yes,” assented Frank.
Another mile was covered. A dim glow seemed to suffuse the sky. It grew
brighter.
“It’s morning!” cried the older lad.
“Yes, and look there!” suddenly exclaimed Andy. He pointed ahead.
“There’s where our camp was,” he added.
Frank gazed for a moment in silence. Then he gasped:
“But our small boat’s gone.”
“And so is the _Gull_!” fairly shouted the younger lad as he waved his
hand toward the place where it had been anchored. “That man has taken it
and gone off! We’re marooned on Cliff Island!”