He carefully settled down until he was in a sitting posture. He was on a narrow, shelving rock, and there he remained for a few moments to rest, for the trip thus far had been exceedingly trying.
"The water's fine, Chunky," he called up cheerfully.
"The water's fine," bellowed Chunky, glaring at his companions. Then a sheepish grin spread over his countenance when he realized what he had said. "I mean, that's what Tad called," he explained, amid a roar of laughter.
"He won't find it so fine if he falls in," muttered Walter.
"Bad spirits in water," grunted the Indian.
"Unfortunately for us, they're not all down there," growled Ned. But his barbed wit failed to penetrate the tough skin of the red man.
"Tend to business, boys," warned the Professor, observing a series of frantic gestures on the part of Stacy Brown. "What does he want, to be lowered?"
"Yes, yes, don't you understand?"
"No, we don't understand motions in a foreign language," laughed
Walter, permitting the rope to slip through his hands a little.
"How's that?" queried Professor Zepplin.