CHAPTER XIV
THE LANDSLIDE
Roger tripped over some obstacle, so that both he and Dick fell flat on their faces, though neither had the misfortune to be injured other than to receive minor bruises.
“Why, what happened then?” gasped Roger, as he sat up and commenced to rub one of his elbows.
Mayhew had evidently also leaped hurriedly back, for he was crouching near the two boys, staring fixedly at some point just beyond, and looking not only puzzled but deeply concerned.
“There was some sort of slip in the rock at the edge of that hole,” explained Dick, breathing hard after his sudden exertion. “I was afraid the whole platform might be about to fall into the abyss, and that was why I dragged you back. It was better to be on the safe side, you know.”
“What will cross our path next, I wonder?” grumbled Roger. “We seem to be jumping from the frying pan into the fire. First it is Indians who are about to wipe us out; then we come near being boiled in a pyramid of steaming water, and, as if that were not enough, here we have a narrow escape from being dropped into a bottomless pit.”
“It’s nip and tuck which sort of end will get us sooner or later,” remarked Mayhew soberly; almost as though he had made up his mind that there was no use of resisting his manifest destiny.
“Let’s get away from this horrible place as soon as we can, Dick,” urged Roger. “As to spending the night here, you will have to excuse me! We had better shoulder our packs and—oh! where are they, Dick? I am sure I laid mine down at the time we stopped to take a look around.”