When Jerry recovered consciousness he found himself sitting on the ground, while Ned and Nestor were bathing his head with water that Professor Snodgrass was bringing up in his hat.
“Where am I? What happened?” asked Jerry.
“You’re still on the map,” said the miner, “and as for what happened, it was what often happens out here. Part of the mountain parted company from the main hill, that’s all.”
“Is the auto smashed?” asked Jerry.
“It appears to be damaged some,” replied the miner, and Jerry felt his heart sink. “But never mind that. It’s lucky we’re not all killed. You were struck on the head by a stone and knocked unconscious. The rest of us were just spilled out when the machine turned over. But how do you feel?”
“I’m all right, only a little weak,” replied the boy. He stood up, and, aside from a little dizziness, he found himself in good shape. His head ached from the blow and was cut slightly, but he was too anxious about the machine to mind his hurts.
With legs that trembled somewhat, he made his way to where the auto had overturned from the force of the landslide. The machine presented a sorry sight. The baggage was spilled out and things were scattered all about. There was a break in the water tank and the fluid had run out. The steering-post was also bent, and one chain was broken. What other damage was done could not be seen until some of the dirt was removed.
“I wish Broswick would come along with his spade,” said Nestor. “We need him.”
“There he comes now,” spoke up Ned, pointing back on the road they had come. At the top of a gentle slope a figure on horseback could be made out. The man waved his hand. It was the hunter, and in a short time he came up to the wreck.
“Waal,” he remarked, “looks like ye had trouble.”