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In the Pecos Country

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<h2> CHAPTER XXVIII. THE EXPLORING TOUR </h2> After gently tossing the stick in his hand, like one who endeavors to ascertain its weight, Mickey smelled of it, and finally bit his teeth into it, with a very satisfactory result. “Now, that's what I call lucky, as the old miser obsarved when he found he was going to save his dinner by dying in the forenoon. Do you mind that shtick—big enough to sarve as a respictable shillalah at Donnybrook Fair? Well, my laddy, that has done duty as a lantern in this very place.” “As a torch, you mean?” “Precisely; just heft it.” As he tossed it into Fred's hand, the latter was astonished to note its weight. “What's the cause of that?” he inquired. “It's a piece of pine, and its chuck full of pitch. That's why it's so heavy. It'll burn like the biggest kind of a candle, and me plan, me laddy, is to set that afire, and then start out to larn something about this new house.” Nothing could have suited the boy better. He sprang to his feet and took the gun from Mickey, so as to leave him free to carry the torch. One end of the latter was thrust into the fire, and it caught as readily as if it were smeared with alcohol. It was a bit of pine, as fat as it could be, and, as a torch, could not have been improved upon. Then Mickey elevated it above his head, it gave forth a long yellow smoke blaze, which answered admirably the purpose for which it was required. “I'll take the lead,” said he to his young friend, when they were ready to start. “You follow a few yards behind and look as sharp as you can to find out all there is to be found out. You know there is much that depends on this.” There was no possibility of Fred failing to use all his senses to the utmost, and he told his friend to go ahead and do the same. Mickey first headed toward the cascade, as he had some hope of learning something in that direction. Reaching the base of the falls, they paused a while to contemplate them. There was nothing noteworthy about them, except their location underneath the ground. The water fell with such a gentle sound that the two were able to converse in ordinary tones when standing directly at the base. Both knelt down and tasted the cool and refreshing element, and then Mickey, torch in hand, led the way up stream again. Through this world of gloom the two made their way with considerable care. Mickey cherished a lingering suspicion that there might be some one else in the cave besides themselves, in which case he and Fred would offer the best target possible; but he was willing to incur the risk, and, although he moved slowly, it was with a decision to see the thing through, and learn all that was to be learned about the cave. The stream was followed about a hundred yards above the falls, when the explorers reached the point where it entered the cave, and the two made the closest examination possible. On the way to the point the two had acquired considerable information. The roof of their underground residence had a varying height from the floor of from twenty to fifty feet. The floor itself was regular, but not sufficiently so to prevent their walking over it with comparative ease. The stream was only five or six feet in width and wherever examined was found to be quite shallow. It flowed at a moderate rate, and it entered the cavern from beneath a rock that ascended continuously from the floor to the roof. “Freddy, my laddy; do you take this torch and walk off aways, so that it will be dark here,” said Mickey to his companion. The latter obeyed, and the man made as critical an examination as he could. His object was to learn whether the water came into the cave from the outer world, or whether its source was beneath the rock. If the former, there was possibly a way out by means of the stream, provided the distance intervening was not too great. Mickey thought that if this distance were passable, there would be some glimmer of light to indicate it. But, when left alone in the darkness, he found that there was not the slightest approach to anything of the kind, and he was compelled to acknowledge that all escape by that direction was utterly out of the question. Accordingly, he called Fred to him, and they began the descent of the stream. When they reached the falls, they paused below them, and Micky held the torch close to the water, where it was quiet enough for them to observe the bottom. “Tell me whether ye can see anything resimbling fishes?” The lad peered into the water a minute, and them caught a flash of silver several times. “Yes, there's plenty of them!” he exclaimed, as the number increased, and they shot forward from every direction, drawn to the one point by the glare of the torch. “There's enough fish for us, if we can only find some way to get them out.” “That's the rub,” said Mickey, scratching his head in perplexity. “I don't notice any fishlines and hooks about here. Howsumever, we can wait awhile, being as our venizon isn't all gone, and we'll look down stream, for there's where our main chance must be.” The Irishman, somehow or other, had formed the idea that the outlet of the water would show them a way of getting out of the cavern. Despite his careless and indifferent disposition, he showed considerable anxiety, as he led the way along the bank, holding the smoking torch far above his head, and lighting up the gloom and darkness for a long distance on every hand. “When your eye rists on anything interesting, call me attention to the same,” he cautioned him. “I'll be sure to do that,” replied Fred, who let nothing escape him. The scenery was gloomy and oppressive, but acquired a certain monotony as they advanced. The dark water, throwing back the light of the torch; the towering, massive rocks overhead and on every hand; the jagged, irregular roof and floor—these were the characteristics of the scene which was continually opening before and closing behind them. In several places the brook spread out into a slowly flowing pond of fifty or a hundred feet in width; but it maintained its progress all the time. At no point which they examined did the depth of the water appear greater than three feet, while in most places it was less than that. It preserved its crystal-like clearness at all times, and in all respects was a beautiful stream. When they had advanced a hundred yards or so, the camp-fire which they had left behind them took on a strange and unnatural appearance. It seemed far away and burned with a pale yellow glare that would have seemed supernatural, had it been contemplated by any one of a superstitious turn. As near as Mickey could estimate, they had gone over a hundred and fifty yards when the point was reached where the stream gathered itself and passed from view. Its width was no greater than four feet, while its rapidity was correspondingly increased. After Mickey had contemplated it awhile by the light of the torch, he handed the latter to Fred, and told him to go off so far that he would be left in total darkness. This being done, the man set to work to study out the problem before him. His theory was that, if the passage of the stream from the cavern to the outside world were brief, the evidence of it could be seen, perhaps, in the faintest tinge of light in the water, The sun was shining brightly on the outside, and unless the stream flowed quite a distance under ground, a portion of the refracted light would reach his eye. Mickey peered at the base of the rock for a few minutes, and then exclaimed, with considerable excitement: “Be the powers! but it's there!” It was dim and faint, as light is sometimes seen through a translucent substance, but he saw it so plainly that there could be no error. When he looked aloft at the impenetrable gloom, he was sensible of the same dim light upon the water. He tested his accuracy of vision by looking in different directions, but the result was the same every time. The almost invisible illumination being there, the Irishman wanted no philosopher to tell him that it was the sun striking the water as it reached the outside, and the outer world, which he was so desirous of re-entering, was close at hand. Mickey was in high glee at the discovery, but when he regained his mental poise, he could not shut his eyes to the fact that if he attempted to reach the outer world by means of the stream, he ran a terrible risk of losing his life. There was no vacancy between the water and the stone which shut down upon it. The outlet was like an open faucet to a full barrel. The escaping fluid filled up all the space at command. No one can live long without air. A few seconds of suspended respiration is fatal to the strongest swimmer. If the distance traveled by Mickey, when he should attempt to dive or float through to the outer world, should prove a trifle too long, the stream would cast out a dead man instead of a live one. But he was a person of thorough grit, and before he would consent to see himself and Fred imprisoned in this cavern, he would make the attempt, perilous as it was. Was there no other way of escape? Was there not some opening which had been used by those who had entered this cave ahead of him? Or was it possible that the imprisoning walls were to thin and shell-like in some places that there was a means of forcing their way out? Or was there no plan of climbing up the side of the prison and reaching an opening in the roof, through which they could clamber to safety? These and other thoughts were surging through the mind of Mickey O'Rooney, when an exclamation from Fred caused him to turn his head. The boy was running toward him, apparently in great excitement. “What's the matter, me laddy?” asked Mickey, cocking his rifle, which he had taken from him at the time of handing him the torch. “Oh, Mickey, Mickey! I saw a man just now!” <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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