“Now we can have a meal,” remarked Bob, as he began to loosen the pack he transported on his horse. Each one carried part of the camping outfit, consisting of blankets, food, and cooking utensils. “Will it be safe to make a fire in here?” he asked.
“Why not?” inquired Jerry. “There’s nothing much to burn.”
“I thought maybe the smoke would smother us.”
“There’s a good draft in here,” declared Ned. “The air is good and fresh. Go on, Chunky, light up. Some hot coffee will go to the right spot.”
The saddles were taken off and the horses tethered further back in the cavern. Its extent was not even guessed at, but it seemed large. Cromley found some dried grass, probably carried in and left there when water had entered the cave, and this served as fodder for the horses, the animals seeming to relish it.
Stripping off most of their wet garments, the refugees gathered about the genial blaze Bob started, and while their clothes were hanging about on pinnacles of rock to dry, a meal was gotten ready.
As Ned had observed, there was a good draft in the cave, and the smoke went up, losing itself in the vastness of the vaulted roof. Near the entrance the wind blew in, bringing rain with it. Also the sound of the storm could be heard.
While the coffee was boiling Jerry and Tinny, wrapping blankets about them, blankets that had been kept dry inside the rubber-covered saddle roll, walked to the cave entrance.
As they reached it and looked out into the almost complete darkness, they were startled by a great flash of lightning. In its glare they saw a strange sight.
Across the trail was the side of a hill, and as the two looked part of this hill seemed to separate and slide down, being loosened by the rain or because lightning shattered some holding rock.