“At any rate,” thought Tubby, “they are camped at a good distance back from us. I reckon there’s no danger of their seeing us moving about.”
With great caution the lad wormed his way through the brush, leaving Jumbo to guard the canoes. He had formed a daring determination to examine the rock and see if it was not possible in some miraculous way to move it. But an examination confirmed his worst fears.
The great stone was as immovable as if it had formed a part of the living rock. Tubby actually gave a groan of despair.
“There’s not a thing we can do,” he moaned disconsolately. A sudden footfall above him made him dive into the brush. He flattened out, immovable, in a flash. The next instant Hunt strode into the glade, followed by his son. They also examined the stone.
“If they won’t come to our terms,” said Hunt, as they turned away again, “we can immure them in a living tomb.”
Tubby Hopkins, lying as quiet as a rabbit in his place of concealment, could not but feel the bitter truth the words held.
* * * * * * * *
“Those fellows are a long time getting that water, and I’m as dry as a jar of salt,” said Merritt, as they munched on their provisions.
“I guess we’re all pretty thirsty,” said the major. “Perhaps you’d better go and hurry them up, my boy.”
Merritt sprinted off on this errand. He had almost reached the ravine and was about to step on the narrow bridge across it when there was a sudden crashing jar that shook the earth.