CAUGHT IN THE DARK
Flung face downward on a rough, uneven floor of rock by that jarring
explosive crash, oblivion descended briefly upon Ruth Garnier. Brought
to consciousness by a sharp, stinging pain in her left wrist, her first
impression was that she had suddenly been stricken blind. Though her
eyes were open, all around her was impenetrable blackness. Where was
she? What had happened? She essayed to move her left hand, and moaned
with pain. Using her right, she groped feebly about in the Stygian dark,
her limp fingers coming in contact with what seemed to be solid rock,
she braced her hand against it and slowly raised herself to a sitting
posture.
Gradually she began to remember. First of all, that reverberating crash,
as though a cannon had been fired off within a few feet of her. And
before that? Now it was all coming back to her. She had gone to look for
Blanche. Then she had seen the opening in the rocks. She had stepped
into it, and found Blanche hiding there. She had tried to make Blanche
come away. Then something terrible had happened. But where was Blanche
now? How her head ached!
Still too greatly bewildered to reason out what had befallen her, Ruth
passed her uninjured hand across her forehead. It encountered a
good-sized lump near her right temple. The mere touching of it made her
wince. Next she felt gingerly of her left wrist. Pluckily continuing to
examine it, despite the pain it gave her, she decided that it was
sprained but not broken. She thought that she must have landed heavily
upon it when she fell forward. This much clear, her mind again reverted
to Blanche. They had been facing each other when that dreadful
thundering roar had begun. Now it seemed she was alone in the darkness
unless—
In the grip of a new fear, Ruth dropped to her knees. Feeling her way
with her sound hand she crawled slowly about in a little circle,
widening it as she went. She knew now that she was still in the cave;
that she was not blind. It was the light of outdoors, not her own
eyesight which had been mysteriously blotted out in a moment’s time. The
entrance to the cave was undoubtedly blocked by some huge object, hence
the impenetrable blackness.
A low sigh of horror welled to her lips as her investigating fingers
clutched a fold of wiry cloth. An instant and they had traveled upward
to an arm and on up to a face. She had found Blanche. With a little sob,
Ruth drew herself close to the motionless form and laid an ear against
Blanche’s heart. It was still beating. Groping for one of her
companion’s limp hands, she chafed it gently, calling out over and over
again, “Blanche! Blanche! It’s Ruth! Oh, you must come to yourself
soon!”
Hampered by her injured left hand, Ruth worked desperately over the
unconscious girl with her right, now rubbing first one wrist then the
other, now shaking her by the shoulders. A dash of cold water in her
face, or a whiff of pungent smelling salts would have easily restored
Blanche to consciousness. Ruth, however, had no remedy save that one
willing hand, coupled with desperate determination.
After what seemed hours, in reality minutes, a long, shuddering sigh
issued from Blanche’s lips. Ruth’s own heart almost skipped a beat when
a faint voice mumbled, “Wh-at—oh-h—” and trailed off into silence.
Creeping to Blanche’s head, Ruth raised it with difficulty, bracing it
against her right shoulder. “It’s Ruth, Blanche. Don’t you know me?” she
entreated.
“Y-es, Ruth.” Blanche’s voice was somewhat thick. Consciousness now
rapidly returning, she asked faintly: “What’s the matter? I can’t see.
It’s—so—dark. It’s night, isn’t it?”
“It’s night in here,” was the grim response. “It must be night outside,
too. You—I—well, we are in the cave that we found. Do you remember about
it?”
“What cave? No; I don’t remember it. There was something else; something
terrible. I can’t think. The back of my head hurts.” Unsteadily,
Blanche’s arm went up in a vain effort to locate her head.
“Lie still,” came the gentle command. “Don’t try to move or talk until
you feel a little better.” Ruth had decided that, for the present, she
would not try to inform Blanche of what had occurred. Time enough for
that later on.
Crouching there in the darkness, the full gravity of their situation was
borne upon her. Her brain now perfectly clear, she was of the conviction
that some natural disturbance of the rocky ledge above was responsible
for their imprisonment. For they were prisoners beyond a doubt. For how
long? Ruth shuddered. Only too plainly one woeful fact confronted her.
Both she and Blanche had slipped away from their friends without a word.
In all probability, no one had seen them go. They alone had discovered
the cave, and to their sorrow. She knew that long since, Miss Drexal
must have started a hunt for them. Undoubtedly, the terrific rumble of
falling rocks must have reached their ears. Yet how could they possibly
guess that the two missing girls were prisoned behind them?
Ruth’s confidence in the Guardian was such that she knew Miss Drexal
would insist on having every foot of the island explored in an effort to
find them. And there was Blue Wolf, too. Recollection of the intrepid
old Indian roused her to new hope. Had not the guide said that he knew
the island. “You get lost, me find,” rang like a clarion in her ears.
Perhaps _he_ knew of the existence of the cave. Surely he must know.
Mere meditating on that one possible source of rescue consoled her not a
little. It went far to alleviate the physical misery she was patiently
enduring. Her head still ached dully, and the throbbing pain in her
sprained wrist never stopped for an instant. Her whole body ached, too,
from sitting so still, while Blanche’s head was a heavy weight against
her shoulder. The latter had taken her advice, in that she had neither
moved nor spoken since Ruth had last addressed her.
Alarmed by the thought that Blanche might have again relapsed into
unconsciousness, Ruth was about to speak softly to her when a faint
far-off sound set her aquiver. Was she dreaming or had she really heard
it? Again it came, the distant ring of voices hallooing her name.
Shifting her burden to the floor of the cave, Ruth stumbled to her feet
and, moving quickly toward the blocked entrance, began to shout an
answer at the top of her lungs.
“What are you doing?” was the querulous question. “What is it? Stop
screaming. You hurt my head.”
Ruth paid no attention. Again and again, she repeated her frantic cries,
Blanche expostulating with every shout. Though she listened desperately
between calls, the welcome halloo she had just heard sounded only twice
more, each time more faintly. It told her that her own voice had not
been strong enough to penetrate the barrier that shut them in, and thus
reach the ears of the faithful searchers. Overcome by the bitterness of
her disappointment, Ruth dropped limply to the floor and sobbed aloud.
Her wild burst of tears did more toward bracing up Blanche than had all
her previous ministrations.
“What is it, Ruth? Please tell me everything. I’m all right now.”
Pulling herself together, Blanche crawled to where the other girl lay
huddled, guided by the sound of her sobs. One of her hands strayed until
it touched Ruth’s brown braids and rested there. “I know what’s happened
to us. We’ve been caught in the cave. It didn’t come to me until you
began to cry. Then I understood why you had shouted. Did you hear
someone call, or were you just trying to get help?”
“I heard the girls. I know I heard them.” Ruth stopped crying and sat
up. “I’m glad you are all right again, Blanche. It makes it easier for
me to tell you how things are with us. You remember the way the rocks
jutted out above this cave? Well, I think they just suddenly gave way.
Maybe for years they’ve been gradually getting ready to fall. You’ve
read about such things. You know I was walking around near that ledge
when I found the arrow-head. That might have started the whole thing,
though I don’t see how it could. Maybe Jane and Frances helped it along.
You see, they started for the ledge before you and I left the crowd. I
don’t believe anyone but myself saw you go. I’m afraid nobody saw me
follow you. I didn’t say anything when I went.” Not intending this as a
reproach, she continued hurriedly. “Those shouts we heard prove that
they are hunting us. I can’t believe that we’ll have to stay here long.
Surely Blue Wolf will find us. I’m putting my faith in him.”
“I—I—hope—so,” came the quavering response. For the first time in
her selfish life, Blanche felt the clutch of remorse. She alone
was responsible for the misfortune that had befallen them. Always
ready to blame others rather than herself, she had been convicted
at last by her own conscience. “How—how—you—must hate me,
Ruth,—for—bringing—this—on—you.” Her voice died to a sobbing
whisper.
“I don’t hate you at all,” was the prompt assurance. “I’d rather you
wouldn’t talk about—well—some things. Let’s both put our minds to work
to try to think what we’d best do. I was wondering when I first saw this
cave, if it went on underground and opened at some other place in the
woods. Looking in at it, I thought it went back quite a way. It might be
the beginning of a secret passage that the Indians used long ago to get
away from their enemies. For all we know, it might go clear across the
island and come out on the opposite shore of the lake.
“There’s plenty of air here. If the opening we came in at was the only
one, blocking it would shut off the air. I’ve felt a little draft ever
since I first sat up after the crash. What we must do is to find where
it comes from. Let’s stand up back to back and each walk ahead in
opposite directions until we touch the walls. We both know from what
little we saw of it that the cave’s not large. Then we’ll feel up and
down the walls, walking along till we meet. In that way we’ll manage to
get around the whole cave, and if there is an opening, we can’t miss
it.”
Blanche meekly agreeing, the two at once proceeded to follow out Ruth’s
plan. To go over every inch of the jagged walls as high as they could
reach was a tiresome labor, particularly to Ruth, who was obliged to
work single-handed. On entering the cave, she had judged it to be about
ten by eight feet, though she had not been able to see back into the
shadows. Now it seemed three times that size. Every few seconds she
would call out hopefully. “Have you found it?” only to be answered by a
discouraged “No.”
Gradually approaching each other, Ruth’s investigating hand suddenly
slid from rock to space. She felt air blowing strongly upon it, and
cried out sharply as she extended her well arm to its full length into
unmistakable vacancy. Sweeping it from right to left, she touched rock
on the right side. Another powerful swing and she had touched it on the
left. Next she took a bold step forward, prudently ducking her head.
Very slowly she raised her arm. A trifle above her head it collided with
something solid—a hard, rather smooth surface that had the moist, cool
feel of earth.
Hearing that cry, Blanche had stumbled toward it, calling as she came.
She bumped smartly into Ruth, who had stepped back again. “What—have you
found it?”
“Yes.” Ruth’s tones vibrated with eagerness. “It’s large enough to step
into standing up. Now the question is, ‘Dare we follow it in the dark?’
I don’t think we need be afraid of snakes. The only things that I see to
be afraid of are, if it went down suddenly into a deep hole, or if it
should get so narrow we’d be stuck, or so low we’d strike our heads.”
For a long moment Blanche made no reply. She dreaded the thought of
attempting this fearsome walk in the dark. She lacked the intrepid
spirit that urged Ruth on to seek release from their prison. She opened
her lips to protest, then in a flash she realized that at last she had
been given a chance to prove herself worthy to be a Camp Fire Girl.
“I’m not afraid,” she answered bravely. “I’m willing to try it.”
“Good! Then here we go. Get behind me, and take hold of my skirt with
your right hand. It’s going to be slow work. One very careful stop and
stop, then another and stop and so on. I’ll keep my right hand out and
above my head as we go. You feel for the wall on your left side. Then we
can tell if it’s getting low or narrow.”
Obediently, Blanche placed herself as Ruth had directed. “I’m ready,”
she signalled. “Go ahead.” Then the two forlorn adventurers went
cautiously forward on their hazardous undertaking. As Ruth had
predicted, it was indeed slow work. It meant constant vigilance of foot
and hand, for in the dense blackness their eyes were of small use to
them. Neither could they form any idea of their progress as to distance
or time.
“It must be hours since we started,” Blanche moaned at last. “I’m so
tired. Can’t we stop for a minute?”
“I don’t believe it’s even half an hour,” Ruth obligingly halted. She,
too, was feeling intense fatigue. “We are doing well, though. The air
seems to be getting fresher. I imagine the passage is about the same
height and width all the way.”
While they rested, Ruth forced herself to pretend cheerfulness. Still,
she made note of the fact that Blanche was behaving admirably.
“We’d better go on now,” she presently urged. “We are lucky to find the
ground under us fairly level,” she continued, as they moved forward
again. “If it weren’t—Oh-h-h!”
As Ruth screamed, she shot violently forward. Blanche felt the hand that
clutched her companion’s skirt jerking free of its hold. Clinging
frantically to it, she brought her other hand into lightning play, and
pulled Ruth so sharply backward as to lose her own footing and sit down
hard on the floor of the passage, dragging her companion with her.
Several seconds passed before either found breath to speak.
“You—saved—me—from—falling—into—something! I—don’t—know—what!” gasped
Ruth. Raising herself from Blanche’s lap, she clumsily got to her feet,
careful in spite of the jolt to still face the direction in which they
had been going. “I was almost over when you jerked me back.”
“I’m—g-g-l-l-ad I—caught—y-o-u!” Blanche’s teeth were clicking with the
terror of the narrowly averted calamity. Reaction setting in, she began
to cry. “We—can’t—go—on!” she wailed. “We’ll have to go back.
This—is—awful!”
“We will go back, Blanche,” soothed Ruth shakily. “Don’t cry. You’ve
done something for me that I never can forget. Now get up, dear. As soon
as you are on your feet, turn and face the other way. Tell me when
you’ve done so, then I’ll turn and take hold of your skirt. You’ll have
to lead going back, but it will be all right. We know it’s safe so we
can go faster.”
Facing once more the direction in which the cave lay, the dejected
adventurers plodded sadly back to their starting point. Returned to it
at last, they dropped wearily to the floor. In each anguished mind
brooded the same pertinent question, “How would it all end!”