"And leave you there all night—buried in a cave!"
Back came the faint answer:
"I don't mind. This is a big place, and there's plenty of fresh air. Stand by until morning, and then see what you can do."
This seemed the only advice possible under the circumstances. The light of the fire was too uncertain to permit of the rescue work going on. It was a dreary night. Occasionally Will called to Jed, who answered, and the younger lad sat by the campfire, which he kept up, anxiously waiting for the dawn. He dozed off toward morning, and awoke with a start to see a streak of light in the east. Then, calling to his imprisoned brother that he was going to begin soon, he brought up his pick and shovel from the packs.
"Stand back as far as you can toward the sides of the cave," advised Will. "I may shake down a lot of dirt. But first, are you sure there's no other way out?"
"I can't see any," was the faint reply, and with that Will set to work.
He located the place where he could hear Jed's voice the plainest, rightly judging that to be the thinnest part of the top of the cave—the earth-crust that held his brother a prisoner. Cautiously he began to dig, using the pick lightly, and slowly shoveling out the dirt he loosened.
As he got down with his shaft he found that the soil was a sort of clay, which was firmer than the loose earth on top, and not so likely to break through with a rush when he had nearly finished his work.
"How are you now, Jed?" he asked when he was down about three feet.
"Pretty fair," was the reply, and the answer was plainly heard, showing that there was not much more earth to be taken out.