"We're going to have to count paces," he said ruefully as he nursed a bruised knee. "Say twenty paces up and twenty paces back."
"Better make it twice that," Scotty replied. "We can't pile all the rocks in one place. We'll have to spread them out."
"Forty it is," Rick agreed, and found another rock.
The work went on, gradually assuming the proportions of a dream—or a nightmare. Pick up a rock, tote it forty paces, drop it. Then thirty-five paces as the passageway got cluttered. Now and then they had to join forces to lug a particularly big piece.
Rick's watch showed him that two hours had gone by. "Let's take a break," he suggested.
"Okay."
Scotty turned on his light. They found their shirts, then went back to survey what they had accomplished.
One glance told them it wasn't much. They had cleaned out the passage up to the main slide, and that was all.
They looked at each other in the flashlight's glow.
"Got any earth-moving equipment in your pocket?" Rick asked wryly.