"Looks like that might be the hole ahead," he ventured.
"I can see something that seems blacker than the night itself; is that what you mean, Frank?" asked Bob.
"Yes," his chum continued. "When Joe pointed up this way I took note of just the line, and followed it closely. That was why we came so near the precipice. And if that is the opening to the cave, we want to lie here and listen."
"Why, do you really believe the racket comes out of that hole?" demanded Bob, astonished at the very idea of such a thing.
"Wait and see," replied the other, confidently. "In the meantime, here's our opportunity to pick up a few candles that will come in handy."
They had come to a halt directly under a tree; and Bob had already discovered that the ground was thickly strewn with broken branches. Some of these were apt to be fat with the inflammable gum that exudes from certain species of cedar, and would, as Frank said, make splendid torches.
Frank was already on his hands and knees searching for suitable ones; and as Bob grasped the idea he, too, set to work.
"I have four already; how do you stand?" asked Frank, presently.
"Just as many—no, here's the fifth one, and the best of the lot," came the reply from the Kentucky lad, who went into everything with ardor and enthusiasm.
"That ought to do for us," Frank went on. "And now, listen for all you're worth, because the war is on again!"