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He shook his head in despair.
"I can hardly hold on at all," he told us. "I'll have to let go in a minute, if you don't do something. Get the rope. You always want a rope."
I hadn't thought of the rope which we have kept in the cave since the time I told about, when the flood came near drowning us.
Then Bill, being corporal, pulled himself together.
"Run to the cave for the rope," said he, "while I hold him."
Before we could say a word or stop him, he straddled the tree and began to work his way out, hitching himself along with his hands.
"Run," he yelled again, when he saw us looking with pale faces. "Skinny saved me and I'll save him, if it takes a leg."
We were halfway to the cave before he had finished speaking. I helped Benny in through the water, holding him to make sure that he wouldn't slip, and in two or three seconds he was out again with the rope.
We found Bill clinging to the slippery tree with both legs and holding Skinny by the collar with both hands. Skinny had a fresh grip and was hanging on for all he was worth.
We tied a slip noose in one end of the rope and threw it to Bill.
"You'll have to let go with one hand at a time, Skinny," I heard him say. "Wait until I get a better grip. Now!"
I saw Skinny let go for a second with his left hand. Bill hung to his collar with one hand and with the other put the loop over his head and under his arm. Then Skinny grabbed hold again and did the same with the other hand.
"Pull her tight, boys. Easy now."
We pulled until the noose tightened under Skinny's shoulders. Then we waded into the water as far as we dared and pulled steadily on the rope.
Skinny scrambled along through the water, digging his finger nails into the bark, with Bill holding on to his collar as long as he could reach.
By the time we had him out it had grown so dark that we hardly could see Bill, but we knew he was out there because we heard him say "great snakes."
"Throw me the rope," he called.
He put the noose around his own shoulders, and with our help was soon standing on the ground.
"I swam her all right," said Skinny, "but I hadn't ought to have done it. Ma told me not to go swimming to-day."
Just as he said that something seemed to shut us in. The light was blotted out and we stood there in the dark, scared and wet, wondering what was going to happen.
We groped our way along until we reached the cave and crawled in through the water. I didn't like to do it because I knew that if the dam should give way the cave would be flooded. But we had made it stronger and we had the rope to climb out by at the upper hole, if the worst should come.
The water didn't reach far into the cave, and soon we had a light, for we always keep candles and matches there.
It didn't seem so scary when we could see, sitting down together on a piece of old carpet which the folks had given us, where we had sat many times before.
What happened next, they say, was a cloudburst. Something burst, anyhow.
Skinny had just grinned and said that he thought maybe it was going to rain, when it started.
And rain! Say, we never had seen it rain before. It came down in chunks and pailfuls. Pretty soon the water began to creep farther into the cave, and we got out the rope and made ready to crawl through into the other part, if it should come much farther.
But the dam held, and there we were, snug and safe, with our candle throwing dancing shadows, and up against one side of the cave, where we had hung it long before, our motto:
"Resolved, that the Boys of Bob's Hill are going to make good."
Then we heard a distant roar, different from anything we ever had heard before and different from any other noise the storm was making. It scared us because we couldn't think what it was.
"Gee!" said Skinny. "What's broke loose, now?"
"Great snakes!" I heard Bill say. "I wish I hadn't come."
Benny didn't say anything, but he grabbed my hand and by the way he hung on I knew he was doing a lot of thinking.
That roar seemed to be the end of the storm, for the rain stopped as quickly as it had come. It began to grow light again and somewhere in the woods we heard a bird singing.
We were glad enough to get out into daylight once more and make our way back to the road.
"Let's see what it was that roared so," I said. "It isn't going to rain any more and Skinny is nearly dry."
We could see great patches of blue sky and knew that the storm was over.
The roaring had seemed to come from the mountain, so we climbed up the road and went into a field beyond the woods, from which we usually can see old Greylock looming up, only looking different, it is so near.
This time we couldn't see him at all. The sky was clear overhead, but clouds still hung about the mountain, shutting him from sight.
Then, as we stood there, the noise came again, only worse this time, and right in front of us. The ground seemed to tremble under our feet and from somewhere, back of the cloud which covered the mountainside, came a mighty roaring and grinding that was awful.
We stood there, clinging to each other and wondering if the end of the world had come, when suddenly the cloud lifted and Skinny yelled:
"Look! Look!"
Down the face of Greylock, where before trees had been growing, water was pouring over a great, white scar, which reached from top to bottom, nearly to where we stood, and over to the south was a smaller scar.
"Guess what," said Benny. "Greylock is crying. What do you know about that?"
There had been two landslides, the only ones we ever had known to happen on the mountain.
And to this day, as far as you can see Greylock, you will see those white scars of bare rock, stretching down his face, as if some monstrous giant had clawed him, but, of course, no water after that first time.
CHAPTER XVII
ON THE WAY AT LAST
FOLKS in our town think that white streaks down the face of Greylock do not improve his looks any, but to us boys they seem like scars won in battle. We feel like cheering some mornings, when we see him fighting to break away from storm clouds which wrap him around.
At first we can see nothing but clouds from where we stand on Bob's Hill. Then, the clouds begin to lift a little and Peck's Falls woods gradually come into view. A little later the very tiptop of the mountain begins to show, floating like an island in an ocean of mist. While we look, the clouds fall away still more, making the island larger and larger, and the bottom mists roll up the wooded sides of the hill.