“Say, if we all lie down, we can get in there,” he estimated. “It will be a tight squeeze though.”
“And we wouldn’t know where we were going, or what we were running into,” Mr. Hatfield put an end to his plans. “I’d like to learn what’s inside the cave, but we’re not going to be foolhardy.”
“Then if we can’t shove the canoe in, how are we going to recover our lost paddles?” Brad demanded, disappointed by the Cub leader’s rejection of his proposal. “How’ll we ever find out where the stream goes or what’s in the cave?”
“Maybe we never will,” Mr. Hatfield replied. “We’re not taking risks, and that’s that.”
Actually, as he peered longer into the dim, dark cave, Brad lost much of his desire to explore. He could see that the current moved swiftly along the rock floor. Even if it were possible to get the canoe in for a short distance, it might be impossible to work it out again against the stiff opposition of the racing underground stream.
“The water is swift,” Dan observed, “but it doesn’t look very deep inside the cave.”
Mr. Hatfield had made the same observation. He instructed Brad to pull the canoe up onto the tiny stretch of beach close by.
“Then we are going to explore?” the Den Chief demanded.
“Not exactly. I want to probe the depth of the water at the mouth of the cave.”
Beaching the canoe, the Cubs searched and finally found a long, fairly straight stick which could be used as a measuring rod.