There was no raft in sight; nothing but the strange, troubled water, ever bubbling and leaping up; and with a shudder, as we thought of the struggle we had had, we turned away, but not without seeing that the sand strip was now about half bare.
It was no time for being nervous. We knew that to live we must find a means of exit while our candles lasted, so started once more to thread our way along through the rift and right on to the huge cavern where the cascade of water came thundering down.
Here we halted for a time to gain breath, and then set to work to thoroughly explore the place; so we pushed on nearer and nearer, to find that, as we expected, we could pass right round behind the waterfall, over the slippery, wet stones, worn into seams, as if at one time the stream had rushed down them; but no trace of rift or passage could we find save one small crevice through which it seemed possible that a body might be squeezed.
“Never mind, Mas’r Harry, that can’t be the way; let’s try farther round this other side.”
Tom led now and I followed, leaving the cascade behind us, and thoroughly examining the other side of the amphitheatre, but without avail; when we sat down, worn out, about opposite to the rift where we had entered, too disheartened to speak, till Tom said:
“We shall have to try and crawl through that hole, Mas’r Harry—there, under the waterfall.”
“A dog could hardly do it, Tom,” I said bitterly, and then I started. “Stop a moment,” I cried. “That was a regular crack or split in the rock that we came through, Tom; such a one as might have been made by an earthquake.”
“Sure it was, Mas’r Harry; but you don’t think as another one has come and shut it up, do you?”
“No, no, Tom,” I cried, leaping up and forgetting my fatigue; “but why should not that crack be continued on this side—here, just opposite where we are? Come, climb higher with me, and let us have another try.”
My thought was a bright one; for far up, just where the side of the amphitheatre began to curve into the dome which formed the roof, we found a crack answering to the one through which we entered on the other side; and squeezing ourselves through, we found that we were in another narrow passage—so narrow, though, that we proceeded with great difficulty.