It proved to be passable, and at the end of another quarter of an hour we were upon fairly level ground, open, and in the full sunshine, ready to rest, bask, dry our clothes, and sit down to what seemed to me the most delicious meal I had ever eaten.
In spite of the length of time which we had apparently spent in the darkness, it was still early in the day, and it was not long, after a good rest upon a hot rock in the sunny glow, before the two sufferers from their plunge were able once more to go about in quite dry clothes.
By this time we had made use of pocket compass and glass, taking bearings, so to speak, and pretty well made out our position to be only a few miles to the south and west of Puma Valley, while my uncle was in ecstasies with the promising appearance of the district, for as a collecting ground we had mountain, forest, plain, valley, and the lovely river-gorge waiting to be farther explored.
“If the quetzals are to be found, Nat,” said my uncle, “we ought to see them here.”
“What about going back, uncle?” I said, interrupting him.
“Back!” he cried. “What, are you tired already?”
“No, I was thinking about the possibility of getting up the tent and some more stores so as to be able to thoroughly explore these higher grounds.”
“Yes,” he said; “that’s what we must do. I fancy we can make our way back without going through that hole again; but it was well worth the trouble, since it led us to this lovely ravine.”
“Pst!” I whispered; “Pete sees something. He is making signs. Look, he is signing to those trees.”
We seized our guns and advanced cautiously in the direction pointed out, separating so as to cover all the ground, in the full expectation of seeing some rare bird or another take flight. But we met on the other side of the cluster of trees indicated, after having passed right through without a sign.