The Boys of Crawford's Basin Part 13

"That's certainly it! Look here, Joe. I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll quit hauling rock for this morning, go and get a long rope, climb down into this crack, see how much water there is, and find out if we can where it goes to."

"All right," said Joe. "Your father won't object, I'm sure."

"No, he won't object. Though he relies on our doing a good day's work without supervision, he relies, too, on our using our common sense, and I'm sure he'll agree that this is a matter that ought to be investigated without delay. It may be of the greatest importance."

"All right!" cried Joe. "Then let us get about it at once!"

CHAPTER IX

THE UNDERGROUND STREAM

It was on a Sat.u.r.day morning that we made this discovery, and as my father and mother had both driven down to San Remo and would not be back till sunset, we could not ask permission to abandon our regular work and go exploring. But, as I had said to Joe, though he trusted us to work faithfully at any task we might undertake, my father also expected us to use our own discretion in any matter which might turn up when he was not at hand to advise with us.

I had, therefore, no hesitation in driving back to the ranch, when, having unloaded our one stone and stabled the mules, Joe and I, taking with us a long, stout rope and the stable-lantern, retraced our steps to the wildcat's house.

The first thing to be done was to enlarge the entrance so that we might have daylight to work by, and this being accomplished, we lighted the lantern and lowered it by a cord into the hole. We found, however, that a bulge in the rock prevented our seeing to the bottom, and all we gained by this move was to ascertain that the crevice was about forty feet deep, as we had guessed. The next thing, therefore, was for one of us to go down, and the only way to do this was to slide down a rope.

This, doubtless, would be easy enough, but the climbing up again might be another matter. We were not afraid to venture on this score, however, for, as it happened, we had both often amused ourselves by climbing a rope hung from one of the rafters in the hay-barn, and though that was a climb of only twenty feet, we had done it so often and so easily that we did not question our ability to ascend a rope of double the length.

"Who's to go down, Joe, you or I?" I asked.

"Whichever you like, Phil," replied my companion. "I suppose you'd like to be the first, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, yes, that's a matter of course," I answered, "but as you are the discoverer you ought to have first chance, so down you go, old chap!"

"Very well, then," said Joe, "if you say so, I'll go."

"Well, I do--so that settles it."

I knew Joe well enough to be sure he would be eager to be the first, and though I should have liked very much to take the lead myself, it seemed to me only just that Joe, as the original discoverer, should, as I had said, be given the choice.

This question being decided, we tied one end of the rope around a big stone, heavy enough to hold an elephant, and dropped the other end into the hole. The descent at first was very easy, for the walls being only three feet apart, and there being many rough projections on either side, it was not much more difficult than going down a ladder, especially as I, standing a little to one side, lowered the lantern bit by bit, that Joe might have a light all the time to see where to set his feet.

Arrived at the bulge, Joe stopped, and standing with one foot on either wall, looked up and said:

"It opens out below here, Phil; I shall have to slide the rest of the way. You might lower the lantern down to the bottom now, if you please."

I did so at once, and then asked:

"Can you see the bottom, Joe?"

"Yes," he replied. "The crevice is much wider down there, and the floor seems to be smooth and dry. I can't see any sign of water anywhere, but I can hear it plainly enough. Good-bye for the present; I'm going down now."

With that he disappeared under the bulge in the wall, while I, placing my hand upon the rope, presently felt the strain slacken, whereupon I called out:

"All right, Joe?"

"All right," came the answer.

"How's the air down there?"

"Seems to be perfectly fresh."

"Can you see the water?"

"No, I can't; but I can hear it. There's a heap of big rocks in the pa.s.sage to the south and the splas.h.i.+ng comes from the other side of it.

I'm going to untie the lantern, Phil, and go and explore a bit. Just wait a minute."

Very soon I heard his voice again calling up to me.

"It's all right, Phil. I've found the water. You may as well come down."

"Look here, Joe," I replied. "Before I come down, it might be as well to make sure that you can come up."

"There's something in that," said Joe, with a laugh. "Well, then, I'll come up first."

I felt the rope tauten again, and pretty soon my companion's head appeared, when, scrambling over the bulge, he once more stood astride of the crevice, and looking up said:

"It's perfectly safe, Phil. The only troublesome bit is in getting over the bulge, and that doesn't amount to anything. It's safe enough for you to come down."

"Very well, then, I'll come; so go on down again."

Taking a candle we had brought with us, I set it on a projection where it would cast a light into the fissure, and seizing the rope, down I went. The descent was perfectly easy, and in a few seconds I found myself standing beside Joe at the bottom.

The crevice down here was much wider than above--ten or twelve feet--the floor, composed of sandstone, having a decided downward tilt towards the south. In this direction Joe, lantern in hand, led the way.

Piled up in the pa.s.sage was a large heap of lava-blocks which had fallen, presumably, through the opening above, and climbing over these, we saw before us a very curious sight.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WE SAW BEFORE US A VERY CURIOUS SIGHT"]

On the right hand side of the crevice--that is to say, on the western or Second Mesa side--between the sandstone floor and the lowest ledge of lava, there issued a thin sheet of water, coming out with such force that it swept right across, and striking the opposite wall, turned and ran off southward--away from us, that is. Only for a short distance, however, it ran in that direction, for we could see that the stream presently took another turn, this time to the eastward, presumably finding its way through a crack in the lava of the First Mesa.

"I'm going to see where it goes to," cried Joe; and pulling off his boots and rolling up his trousers, he waded in. He expected to find the water as cold as the iced water of any other mountain stream, but to his surprise it was quite pleasantly warm.

"I'll tell you what it is, Phil," said he, stepping back again for a moment. "This water must run under ground for a long distance to be as warm as it is. And what's more, there must be a good-sized reservoir somewhere between the lava and the sandstone to furnish pressure enough to make the water squirt out so viciously as it does."

Entering the stream again, which, though hardly an inch deep, came out of the rock with such "vim" that when it struck his feet it flew up nearly to his knees, Joe waded through, and then turning, shouted to me:

"It goes down this way, Phil, through a big crack in the lava. It just goes flying. Don't trouble to come"--observing that I was about to pull off my own boots--"you can't see any distance down the crack."

But whatever there was to be seen, I wanted to see too, and disregarding his admonition, I pretty soon found myself standing beside my companion.

The great cleft into which we were peering was about six feet wide at the bottom, coming together some twenty feet above our heads, having been apparently widened at the base by the action of the water, which, being here ankle-deep, rushed foaming over and around the many blocks of lava with which the channel was enc.u.mbered. As far as we could see, the fissure led straight away without a bend; and Joe was for trying to walk down it at once. I suggested, however, that we leave that for the present and try another plan.

"Look here, Joe," said I. "If we try to do that we shall probably get pretty wet, and stand a good chance besides of hurting our feet among the rocks. Now, I propose that we go down to the ranch again, get our rubber boots, and at the same time bring back with us my father's compa.s.s and the tape-measure and try to survey this water-course. By doing that, and then by following the same line on the surface, we may be able to decide whether it is really this stream which keeps 'the forty rods' so wet."