"It won't reach," declared Chunky, who, with hands in pockets, legs spread wide apart, stood looking up at the flaring top of the great tree.
The guide stopped chopping long enough to squint at the fat boy.
"It'll reach you all right, if you stay where you are," he said, then resumed his vigorous blows.
Stacy promptly took the hint and moved a safe distance away.
"Get from under!" shouted the guide finally. One more blow would send the tree crashing downward.
All hands scrambled for safety. One powerful blow from the axe, and with a crashing and rending, the great tree began its descent. When it struck the onlookers fully expected to see it broken into many pieces, but the bushy top, hitting the rocks first, broke the blow, and the body of the tree settled down gently without even breaking its bark.
"Fine! Hurrah!" shouted the boys.
"It won't reach to the edge. Going to pull it over?" questioned Stacy.
"Not exactly, but we're going to get it there. Perhaps we shall not have it in place in time to explore the caves to-night, but we shall be ready to do so early in the morning. It took our friends longer to do this job, two hundred years or more ago, than it will take us. We have better tools to work with."
"And better bosses," suggested Stacy.