"Looks like it," Tug admitted. "Here, Rex!"
A more distinct yelp, as though the dog was in pain, came to their ears, and they began to search in all the shadowy places.
"Poke up the fire a bit, Jimmy—let's have a little more light."
Jim hastened to follow out this suggestion, and in doing so entered the little thicket which I have mentioned between the shoulder of rock and the log. Suddenly he pitched almost headlong into a dark hollow. He drew back hastily, but as he did so, parting the bushes, he heard Rex's yelping come plainly up, as though from beneath the sod.
"Hello! Rex has fallen down a hole," he exclaimed. "Come here, Tug!"
Sure enough, there was the mouth of a pit, how deep they could not tell, though they could see the Newfoundland's eyes shining at what did not seem so very great a distance.
"Why, Rex, old fellow, are you hurt?" they called out; and the dog answered by a short bark, which ended in a pitiful whine of pain.
"Get the lantern, Jim; we must try to see what kind of a place this is; and look out where you step. This is a cave country, as I told you awhile ago. You may fall through 'most anywhere in this darkness."
The lantern was brought, and tied on the end of a pole, with a handkerchief. Rex began to utter a series of peculiarly short, sharp barks when he saw the light descending, and they knew he was dancing about by the way his eyes moved.
When about twelve feet of the pole had been lowered the lantern rested, and they knew the bottom had been reached. By its faint glow Rex could be seen standing on his legs, apparently not much hurt.