The boys set out along the glacier looking for a place that offered possibilities of descent into the fissure. It was slow going over the heaps of shattered ice, and before they had gone a mile they were worn out. They halted to rest in a shallow pit which protected them from the cold wind. As they sat there, Dick noticed that a small fissure about three feet wide and as high as a man’s head opened out of a bulwark of ice in front of them. The crack seemed to lead downward at a sharp slant.
“That hole looks like it might lead down to the bottom of the fissure,” Dick said to Sandy and Toma. “Let’s go into it and investigate.”
After resting a few more minutes, they got up and walked into the passage. Advancing cautiously, they reached an underground chamber, about twenty feet long, ten feet wide, and somewhat higher than their heads. The sunlight reached the chamber through its entrance and the dim rays lighted up a very beautiful scene. The walls and roof of the natural cavity were formed of crystallized moisture, shaped in many grotesque and fantastic figures.
“I believe this is part of the crystal grottoes Corporal Thalman mentioned in his message!” Dick exclaimed examining the glittering walls.
“Maybe we just found the outlet that the Corporal failed to find,” Sandy brightened.
But upon investigating further they were disappointed. The first chamber led into a second and smaller chamber which had no outlet, and seemed the end of the cavern.
After sounding the walls to make certain they could not break into a larger cavity, the boys made their way back to the narrow passage leading up to the outer air.
Dick went first, and as he stopped into the sunlight a premonition of danger seized him. But before he could act to defend himself, a shadow was flung across his path and a heavy weight descended upon his head and shoulders. Dick went to the ice, stunned and half-blinded.
CHAPTER XVII
A RACE WITH DEATH
Dick was stunned only a moment, but when his head cleared he found himself pinioned by a powerful man, who had just lashed his hands behind him with thongs. Nearby, Sandy and Toma struggled in the clutches of four men. At a little distance away stood Mistak, the half-breed Eskimo, leering with malevolent triumph upon his captives.