“Thank goodness we’ve got more grub and another coffee pot—or something that will do for one,” remarked Bob. His companions did not make any joke about his first thought after their escape from danger having to do with eating. They were too thankful over their good fortune to think of anything else for the time being.
In the gathering darkness after the dust caused by the landslide had blown away, they looked down into the valley. Part of it was made level and the floor of it was covered with the rocks and other débris, splintered trees and shredded bushes.
“Well, it broke our trail,” remarked Tinny, pointing to where the slide had cut squarely across the road they had taken to reach their present whereabouts. “We can’t go back that way—we’ll have to keep on!”
“And we want to keep on,” said Jerry. “We want to get Noddy and his gang and save Bill.”
“That’s right!” chimed in Ned. “Maybe Noddy ran up against one of these things himself.”
“They’re common enough out here,” said Tinny. “But this is the nearest that one ever came to me, and it was altogether too close for comfort.”
“Do you think it’s likely to happen again?” asked Jerry, as he spoke to his horse and patted the animal to soothe and quiet it.
“It might, but it isn’t very probable,” was the reassuring answer.
“What causes these landslides?” asked Ned.