All sorts of tragic fancies forced themselves upon him.
Dead to the world, buried alive, destined never to see God’s sunlight and beautiful day again.
What a horrible thought.
In his very agony of spirit he wailed:
“God help me! Is there no chance for my life? Can I not find my way out of here in some way?”
Then he became calmer. Never were his inventive faculties keener. A sort of desperation was upon him.
“I will find a way out!” he muttered resolutely.
He drew his ax from his belt and began work upon the hatch. But it was of toughest oak and seemed to yield but a little to the keen blade.
CHAPTER X.
WHAT BECAME OF THE DOLPHIN.
But what of the others?