He was willing, for care sat lightly upon him, as upon her; and in another moment both had forgotten it entirely. For their inspection of the chasm was hastened by an accident which drove all other matters out of mind.
There was, apparently, an easy point of descent a few yards from where they had been sitting, peering over the abyss. Intermingling grasses and shrubs grew at the top, upon seemingly solid ground; but as they touched it, still walking hand in hand, it gave way beneath their weight and they felt themselves slipping, sliding, sinking—they knew not whither.
Carlota’s face blanched, but she did not cry out. Probably, she did not realize the extent of their danger as her brother did, for he had grown more familiar with the region and knew how full it was of “man-traps” and hidden perils. Yet, at the first instant of danger, his heroism roused:
“Don’t fear, Carlota! Try—to slide—slow—hold yourself—back—keep hold of me—and—Say your prayers, quick!”
God does not desert those who put their trust in him. The children reached the end of that terrible slide in safety. The whole downward passage had been made smooth for them, as it were, by the bed of a once rapid waterfall. Into this channel had now washed dirt, seeded with the rich vegetation of the spot. The seeds had found still a little moisture, had sprung to life, and had thus prepared a natural carpet over which the imperilled ones passed to the bottom. But, even thus, their fall was so sudden and swift that, for some time after it was over they lay crouched and breathless, failing to realize that they were still unhurt.
Then they looked up and shuddered! At any other point they would, inevitably, have been torn or mangled. But Carlota’s faith was not disturbed by this, which her brother saw and suggested.
“But—it wasn’t at any other point, Carlos! It wasn’t. It was just right there where we would be safe. God knew. He took all the care. And—Carlos! Carlos, see there! See there!”
She forgot her shaken nerves and trembling limbs as she now sprang to her feet and eagerly pointed forward.
“Well, what, dear? I see nothing but a patch of queer blue blossoms. You are flower-crazy, I do believe. Was it for them you wanted to come down?”
“Yes, yes, oh! yes. Why—don’t you yet understand? It is old Paula’s flower! That always grows where the black stuff is; the stuff which makes a flame and warms the people! See! There’s some of the stone, too. Oh! joy, joy! We’ve found what our father said was as good and benefaction-y as any gold mine! What he was trying to find for the rich men. This is the flower he told me of, the same kind that Paula knew. Where it grows—Break off some of the black rock, brother! Quick! Then let’s get back to the top. We’ve found a mine! We—have—found—a—Mine!”