Part 6 (2/2)
He remembered the great plunge he had taken and wondered what had become of Lilly. He called her with all the strength of his enfeebled lungs, but received no response.
”She must have been killed,” he thought. ”Poor Lilly! But had it not been for the protection her body gave me it is more than likely that my life would have been ended, too!” and he shuddered to think of his narrow escape.
It was nearly half an hour before Allen felt strong enough to rise up.
His head felt light, and for a while he staggered like an intoxicated man.
He knew he was down in the canyon, and some distance below where the bridge had been. He wondered how he could ascend to the top of the rocks which presented themselves on the two sides.
”I can't climb up in this darkness,” he said half aloud. ”I might slip and break my neck. I had better walk along and hunt for some natural upward slope.”
He started off along the river side, the top of the canyon towering nearly a hundred feet above his head as he proceeded. The opening gradually grew narrower, and with this the distance between the rocks and the water decreased, until there was hardly room left for Allen to walk.
”I must have made a mistake,” was the mental conclusion which he arrived at. ”I should have gone up the river instead of down. The chances are that I can't go over a hundred feet further, if as far.”
Soon Allen came to a halt. The ground between the wall of the canyon and the water ceased just before him. Beyond the steep and bare rocks ran directly downward into the stream.
”That settles it,” he muttered, in great disappointment. ”All this traveling for nothing. And it's getting night over head, too! It's a shame!”
Allen paused to rest, for in his weak condition the walk had tired him greatly. Then he started to retrace his steps.
Hardly had he taken a yard's advance, when his left foot slipped upon a round stone. He was thrown over on his side, and before he could save himself went plunging headlong into the stream!
He essayed by every means in his power to regain the bank, but in vain.
The current of the river was extra strong at this point--the width of the course having narrowed down--and before he could clutch the first thing he was carried to where nothing but the steep and slippery rocks presented themselves.
Vainly he put out his hands to stay his progress, vainly he tried by every means in his power to obtain some sort of hold on the rocks.
[Ill.u.s.tration: VAINLY HE PUT OUT HIS HANDS TO STAY HIS PROGRESS]
And now the surface of the river grew blacker as the rocks on both sides began, seemingly, to close in over his head.
He was almost tempted to cry out for help, and took a breath for that purpose, but the sound was not uttered. What would be the use? Not a soul would hear him.
On and on went the young ranchman, the waters growing more cold each instant and the prospects more gloomy. He was half tempted to give himself up for lost.
It was an easy matter to keep himself on the surface, for he was really a good swimmer, but now the current was so strong that he could scarcely touch either side of its rocky confines as he was swept along, he knew not where. Allen had never explored this stream, and this to him made the immediate future look blacker than ever.
”If it ends in some sort of a sink hole, I'm a goner sure,” he thought.
”But I never heard of such a hole up here among the mountains, so I won't give up just yet.”
Hardly had the thought occupied his mind when, on looking up, he saw the last trace of evening fade from sight. The river had entered a cavern!
He was now underground!
It may well be imagined with what dismay Allen, stout-hearted as he was, viewed the turn of the situation. Here he was being borne swiftly along on an underground river, he knew not where. It was a situation calculated to chill the bravest of hearts.
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