"Where can we be?"
"Down in a mighty deep hole."
"I know. But is this the bottom?"
"There's no telling. We might—we are going down again!"
It was true. They were again descending, but now slowly, as if the passage below was growing smaller.
"Shall we ever stop!" groaned Dave.
"It's all up with us!" came from Bob. "We won't be able—gracious! Water!"
The young engineer was right.
The mass of brushwood had reached the level of some water at the bottom of the hole.
Down they sank, into this. First up to their ankles, then to their knees, then to their waists.