But the next instant they found out what it was that caused the roaring sound, and at the same time experienced a shock of disappointment as their hope of speedy release was rudely dashed.
The rift terminated abruptly in a sort of rocky basin with steep sides topped with big trees and brush. The center of this basin was a sort of whirlpool formed by a stream which rushed in at a fissure at one side and out of a similar crack in the rocky walls at the other. A groan fairly forced itself from the lips of both boys as they gazed at the smooth, steep sides of the rock basin and realized the impossibility of scaling them, even had Harry’s ankle not been injured.
The stream entered the basin by a small waterfall which tumbled in a foamy mass over great rocks grown with green moss, and it was the roaring of this that had caused the odd noise they had heard in the tunnel.
“Stuck!” was Harry’s exclamation as they stood on the foot-wide strip of beach on the marge of the pool.
Percy Simmons could only echo his companion’s exclamation. Utterly disheartened they sank down on the strip of beach, the spray from the waterfall dashing unnoticed in their faces. For the first time since the beginning of their misfortunes the two boys were on the verge of giving way utterly.
How long they sat thus they didn’t know; but it was Harry Ware who broke the silence. Both boys were chilled to the bone, and their clothes needed drying. Besides this, an idea had just struck Harry. He thought that if any search was made for them a column of smoke might be a good thing to attract attention to their whereabouts, and a good fire would serve a double purpose.
The beach was littered with all sorts of drift wood, from big logs to small sticks that the stream had brought down probably during a spring freshet and which had lodged there.
When he had succeeded in rousing Percy from his lethargy of despair, Harry limped briskly about, helping his companion build a roaring fire. The heat was grateful to their chilled skins, and taking off their outer garments they spread them out to dry. It was while they were sitting thus, discussing their situation with more cheerfulness than hitherto they had been able to muster, that Harry’s attention was caught by a partridge sitting on a hemlock limb that overhung the rocky basin on their side. Raising his rifle, which had survived all accidents, he fired at it, and rather to his surprise the bird came tumbling down, landing almost at their feet.
“Come on, we’ll have some broiled partridge, bread and chocolate,” he cried, addressing the woebegone Persimmons. “It’s no good starving, even if we are in a tight fix.”
He skinned and cleaned the bird and then broiled it on a flat rock which he had previously heated in the fire. The two boys ate the bird hungrily, although it was not at all overdone, being half raw, in fact. But their appetites were too keen to be discriminating, and after despatching it and eating some of their moist bread and chocolate they felt much better.