Unexpected Aid.
For a few minutes the two lads were so overcome by the horror of their position that they stood there in silence, afraid to move. Then Scarlett recovered himself a little, and said huskily—
“Pull the rope again, and make sure.”
“I’m sure enough,” said Fred, sulkily. “It’s all down here. How could you have tied it so badly?”
“I don’t know. I thought it was tight. Ah! there it is again.”
There was a whizzing, whirring sound heard above the plash and whisper of the water down below, and for a few moments the boys remained perfectly still.
“Why, I know what that is,” cried Fred. “Pigeons. I’ve often seen them fly into the holes of the rocks. They build in these places, and roost here of a night.”
“Wish I was a pigeon,” said Scarlett, sadly. “We shall never be able to climb up that hole.”
“We shall have to try,” said Fred, “unless we can find a way down. Here, let’s creep to the edge and look.”
Scarlett hesitated for the moment, but it was a work, of stern necessity; and together, using the greatest caution the while, they crept on hands and knees to the edge of the great shelf, and looked over to see that the light came in from some opening away to the right, to be reflected from the wall of rock opposite, and shed sufficiently strong a dawn to let them see fifty feet below them the creamy foaming water which flowed in and then ran back.