They ran, and as they did so the lantern flickered up for the last time and went out. Then Dave stopped short and Roger clung to him.
"Don't stop here, Dave!"
"I won't—but we must go slow, or we'll knock our heads on a rock or on the icicles."
They advanced with all the caution they could command. Each was filled with a nameless dread, for if there was no opening ahead what should they do? To go back the way they had come was next to impossible in the dark. A dozen steps, and both went down in a hollow, Roger rolling on top of his chum. The spot was like a huge washbowl, and all of the sides were covered with ice. They tried to scramble out, only to slip back over and over again.
"This is the limit!" cried Roger, desperately.
"If we—— Oh, wait!" He felt in his pocket.
"Hurrah!"
"What is it?"
"I've got five matches. I'm going to light one."
"Make it last as long as possible," was Dave's advice.