“Crater of a volcano, perhaps,” cried Chris.
“That’s it, lad; the one that played at pitch-and-toss with all these blocks of stone, and threw them all over the place.”
“Then where is the hole?” said Chris.
“I dunno; somewhere about,” said Griggs thoughtfully, as he looked about, peering in among the rocks.
“I shouldn’t wonder,” said Chris, as thoughtfully, “if it is quite close here, and when the mule kicked off the tubs they went rolling down into it and were lost.”
“Oh, don’t say that, boy!” cried Griggs excitedly. “You don’t think of what value that drop of water may be to us now.”
“Oh yes, I do. I’m so thirsty; but I say, Griggs, suppose the hole into which they have rolled is the one that the snakes live in.”
“Not it; they live in little holes and cracks just big enough for them to creep into. Well, I don’t know where the things have gone. Look sharp and find ’em; your eyes are younger than mine. We shall have the doctor after us directly to physic us both for not finding them.”
“Hurrah!” cried Chris. “There they are!”
“Where? I can’t see from here.”