“Down into the bowels of the earth, if that’s where the river goes, and the Indians say it is. If you don’t believe it, just look there.”
At this moment the three boys emerged from a little grove of scrub-oaks, which lined the bank of the river for a hundred yards or more. It was one of Bob’s favorite resorts. He always kept a hammock swung there when he was at home, and during the hot days in summer, when the rays of the sun beat down into the valley with merciless fury, and the panting sheep sought refuge in the cottonwoods, and all nature seemed gasping for breath, Bob would take possession of that hammock, and while away the sultry hours with some interesting book, or swing himself to sleep, lulled by the drone of insect life, with which the branches above him were filled.
As Bob spoke, he pointed toward the lower end of the valley, which was not more than five hundred yards distant. The boys looked, and an exclamation of amazement burst from their lips.
“Why, where does the river go?” cried Arthur, as soon as he could speak.
“It goes into that hole, of course,” replied Bob. “And look here. Do you see those two cracks that run diagonally up the bluff each side of the hole? They show the shape and size of the mountain that the victorious giant threw upon his foe to keep him down.”
“He must have thrown it into the canyon with force enough to split it,” observed George; “for I can see a third crack running up the cliff from the top of the hole.”
The “hole” to which the boys referred appeared, at first glance, to be the mouth of an enormous cave, but it was not so in reality. The “crack,” to which George directed the attention of his companions, pointed out the position of a canyon—a very narrow one, to be sure, for, if the boys could have contrived any way to get to the top of the cliff, they would have found that they could almost jump across it.
The other two “cracks” were simply wide and deep fissures, which had been cut in the face of the cliff by the action of the elements, but still the space between them did look wonderfully like a mountain turned bottom side up.
The mouth of the canyon did not seem to be so very large, after they came to look at it awhile, and Bob’s companions were much surprised when he told them that, according to his father’s measurements, it was four hundred feet wide, and more than half as high.
It was shrouded in an impenetrable darkness, and not a sound came forth from its depths. Swiftly and silently the river sped on its way, and so smooth and deep was its channel, so free from hidden rocks and every other obstruction, that there was not even the smallest ripple on its surface.