LOST UNDERGROUND
“Oh!”
That was the single cry which Harry uttered as he plunged over the edge
of the cliff into the stream below.
As he went down his gun was torn from his grasp by the bushes, and an
instant later he struck the stream with a splash and went down straight
to the bottom.
The breath was knocked out of him by the fall, and when he came again
to the surface he was more than half unconscious. He felt himself borne
along by the current, and there followed a strange humming in his ears.
Then his senses completely forsook him.
When Harry was once more able to reason he knew little outside of the
fact that he had a severe headache, and that all was pitch-dark around
him. He lay in a shallow pool with the swiftly flowing river within an
arm’s length. Absolute darkness was on all sides of the youth.
For a long time he lay still, gasping for breath and putting his hand
feebly to his forehead. Then he sat up and stared about in bewilderment.
“Joe!” he stammered. “Joe!”
Of course there was no answer, and then Harry slowly realized what had
happened--his rapid run through the forest, his coming to the cliff,
and his unexpected plunge into the river beneath.
“I’m still in the water,” he thought. “But where?”
This question he could not answer, nor could he explain to himself how
it was that he had not been drowned. But with even so much of peril
still around him he was thankful that his life had been spared.
Feeling cautiously around the pool, he soon learned which side sloped
to the river, and which toward a sandy underground shore, and slowly
and painfully he dragged himself up to the higher ground.
“I am not at the cliff, that is certain,” he mused, as he tried to gaze
upward. “I can’t see a star.”
The conviction then forced itself upon him that he was underground, and
this being so he quickly came to the conclusion that the flow of the
river had carried him to this locality. But how far he was from the
spot where he had taken the fall he could not imagine.
He was too weak to travel, or even to make an examination of his
surroundings, and having moved around a distance of less than a rod
along the bank of the underground stream he was glad enough to sink
down again to rest.
As Harry sat there, his head still aching, his mind went back to Joe.
“I suppose he thinks I am dead,” was his dismal thought.
Slowly the time wore away and Harry sat in something of a doze, too
weak to either move or speculate upon his condition, very much as one
does who is recovering from a long spell of sickness.
Thus the night wore away and morning came to view outside, with clear
warm sunshine and singing birds. But in the cavern the darkness
remained as great as before.
At last Harry felt that he must do something for himself. He was
beginning to grow hungry, and he knew that many hours had passed since
he had taken the plunge into the stream.
“I must see if I can’t follow the river back to where it ran under the
rocks,” was what he told himself. “That ought o bring me back to the
cliff, and perhaps I’ll find Joe looking for me.”
With extreme caution he felt of the water, to find in what direction
it was flowing, and then essayed to follow the stream up its course
between the rocks and along the sandy beach.
It was a difficult task, and more than once he had to stop to get back
his strength. At certain points he had to climb rocks which were sharp
and slippery, and twice he fell into the stream and pulled himself out
only with much labor.
And then came the bitterest moment of all, when he reached a point
where the beach came to an end and found that the opening further up
the stream was completely filled with water, which roared onward,
dashing the spray in all directions. Here Harry could see a faint gleam
of daylight, but only sufficient to show him how completely he was a
prisoner.
“I can’t get through that,” he muttered. “If I try it I’ll surely be
drowned.”
But if he could not get through what was he to do? To remain where he
was would be to starve like a rat in a trap.
“Perhaps the stream leaves this cave at the other end,” he reasoned.
“But that may be a long way from here.”
There was no help for it, and with slow and painful steps he retraced
his way along the underground river bank, often falling over the rough
rocks and stopping every few rods to rest and get back his breath. He
was now hungrier than ever, and eagerly gnawed at a bit of birch wood
which he happened to pick up out of the water as he moved along.
As Harry journeyed onward, he came to a sharp turn of the stream. Here
the water appeared to divide into several parts, and two of these sunk
out of sight amid the rough rocks on all sides. A small stream flowed
to the left. From some point far overhead a faint light shone down,
just sufficient to reveal the condition of affairs to the youth.
“What a cave!” murmured Harry to himself, and he was right. It was
certainly a large opening, but nothing at all in comparison to the
great Mammoth Cave of that territory, discovered some years later, and
which covers many miles of ground. The roof was fully fifty feet above
the young pioneer’s head, and the walls were three or four times that
distance apart.
Having even a faint light made walking easier, and once again he went
onward, following the single stream that remained in sight. Twice he
heard a rush of birds over his head, which made him confident that the
open air could not be far off. The cave turned and twisted in several
directions, and at last he saw sunshine ahead and fairly ran to make
certain that he had not been deceived.
When he was really out into the open air once more, Harry sat down on
the grass, trembling in every limb. To him the time spent underground
seemed an age. Never before had the sun and the blue vault of heaven
appeared to him so beautiful.
But it was not long before the pangs of hunger again asserted
themselves. He had already taken note of some berry bushes, and he
hobbled to these and ate what he wanted of the fruit. They stilled the
gnawing in his stomach, but did not satisfy him.
In his pocket the young pioneer had some fishing lines and several
hooks, and also a box with flint and tinder. He laid the tinder out
to dry on a warm rock, and then with the line went to fishing, after
having turned up some worms from under a number of small stones.
His catch of fish amounted to little, but soon he had enough for a
single meal, and then he made himself a tiny fire. He could hardly
wait to cook the fish, and it must be confessed that he gulped them
down when still half raw,--for Harry’s appetite had always been of the
best, and in those days pioneers did not dare to be over-particular
concerning their food.
By the position of the sun Harry judged that it was nearly noon. As the
orb of day was almost directly overhead it was next to impossible for
him to locate the points of the compass.
“If I felt stronger I would climb a tree and take a look around,” he
told himself. But he was still so shaky he felt that there would be too
much danger of falling.
A grassy bank close to where he had cooked the fish looked very
inviting, and he threw himself upon it to rest--for just about ten
minutes, so he told himself. But the ten minutes lengthened into
twenty, and then into half an hour, and soon he was sleeping soundly,
poor, worn-out Nature having at last claimed her own.
When Harry awoke he felt much refreshed, and his headache was entirely
gone. He sprang to his feet with an exclamation of surprise, for the
sun was setting over the forest in the west.
“I must have slept all afternoon,” he murmured ruefully. “Well, I
reckon I needed it. But I should have been on my way before dark.”
He now felt more like climbing a tree, and was soon going up a tall
walnut that stood on a slight hill near by.
From the top a grand panorama of the rolling hills of Kentucky was
spread out before him--that captivating scene which had but a few years
before so charmed Daniel Boone and other pioneers who had entered that
territory. Here and there a stream glistened in the setting sun, and
at one point Harry could see an open stretch of grass with a small herd
of buffalo grazing peacefully, while at another point, evidently a
salt-lick, several deer were making themselves at home. As Daniel Boone
had said, it was truly the land of plenty.
But Harry’s mind was just then centered upon but two things--to find
Joe and to get back as soon as possible to the camp,--provided anything
was left of the latter, which was questionable. As he thought of the
Indians he shook his head doubtfully.
“They won’t give up this land to us if they can help it,” he told
himself. “They will fight for it to the bitter end. For all I know to
the contrary, all of the others, including Joe, may be either dead or
prisoners.”
From his position in the tree Harry tried to locate the camp which he
had left the morning before, but all he could see was a smoldering fire
far in the distance.
“That looks as if it might be where the camp was,” he reasoned.
Descending to the ground once more he determined to make his way in the
direction of the smoldering fire. Before setting out he cut himself
a stout club. He mourned the loss of his gun, and wondered what he
should do if confronted by the Indians, or by some wild beast.
But the forest seemed deserted, and he passed a good quarter of a mile
without meeting anything but a few rabbits and a fox, and these lost no
time in getting away.
The sun was already out of sight behind some trees when he struck
another brook, that upon which the fated camp had been located. Here
he stopped for a drink, getting down on his hands and knees for that
purpose.
Having satisfied his thirst, Harry was on the point of rising, when
a noise behind him attracted his attention. He whirled around, to
discover a big black bear moving on him with great deliberation.
“Hi! get back there!” he yelled and swung his stick at the beast. He
did not mean to throw the object, but it slipped from his hand and,
sailing through the air, struck bruin fairly and squarely on the nose.
At once the bear let out a snort of pain and then an added snort of
rage. His den was in that vicinity, and, thinking the youth had come
to invade it, he arose on his hind legs and came for Harry in a clumsy
fashion.
There now remained but one thing for the young pioneer to do, and this
he did without stopping to regain the club. He started off on a run up
the brook.
The bear immediately dropped down on all fours and came after him.
Although totally unconscious of it, Harry was running directly for the
bear’s den. This enraged the beast still more, and he did what he could
to close the gap between the boy and himself.
The bear was almost on top of Harry when the young pioneer came to a
wide-spreading tree with low-hanging branches. One of the branches was
within easy reach, and as quick as a flash the youth swung himself up,
just as bruin made a leap for him. The bear caught him by the toe, but
the boy’s foot-covering gave way and the beast fell back.
Harry lost no time in climbing higher up in the tree. Then he made his
way to the trunk, and, hanging to one of the limbs, drew his hunting
knife and waited for the bear to climb up.