Following Mr. Hatfield, they inched their way along the cliff wall, fighting bushes all the distance.
The ledge was so narrow that only the Cub leader could peer into the cave opening.
“What do you see?” Dan demanded eagerly.
“Nothing but damp walls veering upward to a rough, low roof,” Mr. Hatfield answered. He had thrust head and shoulders into the opening, so his words were muffled. “I wish I had a flashlight.”
“Want me to go back for one?” Brad asked.
Mr. Hatfield turned down the offer, pointing out that the hour already was late. By the time Brad could return, it would be nearly dark.
Carefully, the Cub leader measured the depth of the water. At the mouth of the cave, it was nearly waist level. But a foot inside the entrance, the depth was six inches less.
“Unless I’m mistaken, the floor of the cave slopes upward,” Mr. Hatfield declared.
“Then farther back, you think the water might not be so deep?” Dan questioned.
“That’s the way it looks from here. I can’t see very far though.”