“Come, Roger, I shall need your assistance,” he told the other. “Bottle up your curiosity until we can get those poor fellows up out of the pit. They seem to be injured more or less, for Hardy has a bandage around his arm that looks bloody.”
Roger was only too willing to render what aid he could, though the fact struck him that they were not likely to find it plain sailing.
“If they couldn’t climb up out of that hole on account of the smooth face of the rock, how shall we go down to help them, Dick?” he demanded.
“That would be foolish,” was the reply. “We must plan to draw them up here.”
“But, Dick, where is the rope to come from? We brought nothing of the sort from the camp?”
“Then we must find a substitute. Look back at some of our experiences, and tell me if we have not done that more than once when in the forest?”
“Why, yes, a wild grape-vine can often be made to serve the purpose of a rope, because it is tough and long and pliable. But where can we get such a thing now?”
“As it happens, I noticed some vines growing not far back, and I am leading you to the place now. Look over yonder at that little swale, where the trees grow so densely; there are vines hanging from the branches, for I saw them swaying in the breeze.”
“Yes, I do believe you are right,” admitted Roger, who possessed splendid eyesight. “I only hope we find one long enough.”