Then they reached the bottom with a jarring impact that shook the breath from their bodies. When they recovered enough to look each other over, Dick was sitting upright, astride of Sandy, who lay in a crumpled, groaning heap under him. Dick heard, or thought he heard, the trickle of running water. His right foot felt pleasantly cool. When he put out his hand to investigate his fingers encountered water.
Sandy was half submerged in a tiny pool, and was sinking fast, before Dick could pull him back to safety. Dazed from the fall, Sandy sputtered a moment, then inquired excitedly:
“Have we got to the bottom?”
“I guess so,” replied Dick. “At any rate there seems to be a sort of creek running along here. Are you all right, Sandy?”
“Well, if I’m not, I soon will be,” answered Sandy, more cheerfully. “Wait till I get a drink of this water. Boy, I’m dry. Do you think we’ll be safe here?”
By way of answer, Dick pointed up to the wide belt of fire. “It’s closer than it was before. We’re protected down here from the heat and smoke, but that won’t last long. In two hours this place will be as hot as a stove. Our only chance is to keep on moving.”
“I hate to leave this water,” said Sandy, gulping large mouthfuls of it.
“I don’t intend leaving the water,” Dick assured him. “It’s just occurred to me that our best plan will be to follow this little creek. It’s probably fed from a spring and will eventually run either into a lake or river. Once we get into more water we’ll be pretty safe.”
Sandy thought Dick was right, and a few minutes later, greatly refreshed, they set out again, following the creek downstream.
Two miles further on the creek ran into a larger stream, and a little later as they hurried around a curve, Sandy, who was in the lead, gave vent to an exclamation of despair.