“Go on.” Mills gave them a boost, and after a struggle they were on the other side. Then the way descended again, and suddenly the air seemed to clear.
“Whew, this is better,” Mills gasped, with relief, and they all paused a moment to inhale deeply.
“There’s daylight,” Red shouted a few minutes later, and with a bellow of joy, he sprang forward. His shout changed quickly to the snarl of terror, and a shriek of abject fear. The Buddies saw his feet slip from under him on the log he was crossing. His arms shot up in a frantic effort to catch hold of something, then his body twisted and dropped from sight, leaving a great hole in the rotten tree. An agonized wail split the air, then all was silent.
“What’s the matter,” gasped Lang fearfully.
“Quit shovin’, the thing’s rotten as hell,” Mills snarled and he threw his weight against the men who were pressing forward. “Get more light.”
Two more flashes were produced, illuminating the spot. It appeared as if half of the great log which was suspended from great boulders, had given way. The lights revealed a deep, narrow cavern, they could hear water gurgling as if it formed a passage for a small spring or stream, and after fumbling with the light, Mills finally was able to locate the huddled body of the red-headed man. Silently, and shivering, the group stood for several minutes.
“I’m going back,” Mills announced positively.
“Yes, come on.” As if they were one man they turned about.
“Don’t be quitters,” Lang urged. “This air is better than back there and we must be almost out.”
“Yeh, well, I’m going back.” The ropes which bound the Buddies were not forgotten, and in a minute they were retracing their steps, this time with more lights than when they came forward. Although Lang argued that they were giving up when they had almost won, no one paid the slightest attention to him. They seemed to forget their earlier discomfort and went swiftly until they reached the last stream.