THE RUSH OF WATERS
Echoes of the footsteps of the boy ranchers sounded and resounded as
they tramped along the now dry water-course of what had, only a day
before, been a life-giving stream of water. The rocky and
roughly-vaulted roof overhead gave back the noises like the soundbox of
a phonograph, and the lads had to speak loudly, in places, to make
their voices carry above the echoes. These places were spots where the
vaulted roof of the tunnel was higher than usual.
They had walked on, the semi-circular spot of light at the entrance
near the black pipe growing more and more faint, until it was not at
all visible.
"There she goes!" exclaimed Dick, looking back.
"What?" asked his brother.
"The last gleam of daylight," was the answer. "If anything happens to
our lanterns, so that they go out, and we get mixed up in some branch
passages--good night! That's all I have to say!" and Dick was very
emphatic in this.
"By Zip Foster!" exclaimed Bud, using that expression for the first
time in several days. "You're a cheerful chap to have along on a
picnic like this, Dick! Not!"
"Well, might as well prepare for the worst and hope for the best,"
laughed Dick, while Nort inquired:
"Why don't you tell us more about Zip Foster?"
"Oh--you--say, did you hear anything then?" asked Bud, and his voice
had in it such a note of anxiety that his companions did not, at the
time, imagine he might have been putting them off from a much-wanted
and often-delayed explanation of this mysterious Zip Foster personage.
"Hear what!" asked Dick.
"Something like water running," replied Bud. "I have a notion that our
stream--I call it ours for it doesn't seem to belong to anyone
else--our stream may just trickle off, now and then, into some other
underground course."
"Maybe it does," agreed Dick. "But I don't hear any water running."
"Nor I," added his brother.
"Maybe I was mistaken," Bud admitted. "But I sure would like to come
across that missing water of mine!"
He little realized, nor did the others, what fruit his wish was to
bear, and that very shortly.
"I guess what you heard was the echoes," spoke Dick. "I never heard so
many queer noises."
"It's like the cave of the winds," murmured Nort. "But it's a great
adventure all the same, Bud! I mean it would be great if we didn't
have to worry about the water not coming back," he made haste to add,
for he realized what it would mean to their new ranch in Flume Valley
if no drink could be had for the cattle.
"It beats the finding of the Triceratops all to slathers!" exclaimed
Dick, "and that was no slouch of a happening, either."
"Yes, no telling what's ahead of us," spoke Bud, as he walked along,
unsteadily enough for the way was rough and filled with stones. And,
as the boys tramped along in the tunnel, part of the time in the very
bed of the stream that had gone dry, their lanterns cast fantastic
shadows on the rocky walls. I have said that the stream was dry, but
this was not strictly true, for in places, where the uneven bed formed
depressions, there were pools of water. And, in some places, there
were even little rills trickling along. But they never would reach the
iron pipe that discharged into the reservoir.
On and on tramped the boys, pausing, now and then, to hold up their
lanterns and inspect the rocky walls of the underground tunnel which
echoed so strangely to their footsteps, and through which swept
strange, cold and clammy winds.
"Well, I reckon we'll have to go all the way to the end before we
discover anything, if we do find it," said Bud, when they had walked on
for over an hour. Their pace was slow because of the uneven footing.
"And when we get to the other end and find the water running into the
pipe at the dam in Pocut River, what then?" asked Nort.
"We'll hardly find that, I think," said Bud. "Or, I mean, we won't
have to go all the way to the other end if the water is found running
there."
"Why not?" asked Dick.
"Because, if the water's running in from the dam end of the pipe, we'll
meet the stream before we get all the way through the tunnel," Bud
explained. "I meant to call up on the telephone and find out if
everything was all right at the river end before we started out, but I
forgot. My theory is that the stream gets into this tunnel from the
river all right, but is shunted off before it reaches us," he added.
"How shunted?" Dick wanted to know.
"That's what I can't tell," spoke Bud. "But why try to puzzle this out
until we get something better to work on? I'm hungry! What do you say
that we eat?"
"Suits me," agreed Nort.
"I'm not going to vote in the negative," asserted Dick.
They judged that they were about a quarter way through the mysterious
tunnel now, and, setting down the lanterns on the rocky floor, the boy
ranchers took out the food they had brought with them. It would be
risky to kindle a fire in that enclosed place, Bud decided, as the
smoke might choke them, though so far they had found an abundance of
fresh air, a current blowing part of the time in their faces, and part
of the time in the opposite direction. This proved that there was a
good draft in the elongated cave, but it was voted best not to take any
chances, though there was plenty of dried driftwood on the tunnel
floor, and this could have been used for a blaze.
But the boys sat about in the gleam of their lanterns, and, while they
ate the sandwiches they had brought, they talked of the strange
happenings that had led up to this venture in which they were now
joined.
Suddenly Bud, who had just taken up a piece of fruit cake, part of a
chunk that his pretty sister Nell had sent over from the main ranch
house a day or so before, stopped chewing in order to listen better;
for, as you doubtless know, the action of the jaws precludes keen
attention to outside sounds.
"What's the matter?" asked Dick, noting his cousin's act.
"I heard something," Bud answered.
"I'm hearing things all the while!" declared Dick. "This is the most
weird place for mysterious noises I ever struck!"
"But this is different," insisted Bud. "Listen!"
Nort and Dick stopped chewing and strained their ears to catch the
sound that had attracted Bud's attention. A strange, rushing,
whispering echo seemed to fill the tunnel.
"Doesn't that sound like rushing water?" asked Bud.
"Yes," agreed Dick, after a moment of intentness; "it does."
"Look out!" quickly yelled Nort. "It _is_ water, and on the rush, too!
Jump for your lives! It's a flood!" and making a grab for one of the
lanterns, that they might not be left in total blackness, he sprang
toward the rocky side of the tunnel, an example followed by his
companions.
And the rush of waters filled the underground cave with a mighty,
roaring sound.