Finally we reached the cavern from which we had started.
"And now what?" asked Harry in a tone of the most utter
dejection.
I pointed to the exit in the middle. "That! We should have
taken it in the first place. On the raft we probably descended
altogether something like five hundred feet from the level where we
started--possibly twice that distance. And this passage which
slopes upward will probably take us back."
"At least, it's as good as the other," Harry agreed; and we
entered it.
We had not proceeded far before we found ourselves in
difficulties. The gentle slope became a steep incline. Great
rocks loomed up in our path.
In spots the passage was so narrow that two men could hardly
have walked abreast through it, and its walls were rough and
irregular, with sharp points projecting unexpectedly into our very
faces.
Still we went forward and upward, scrambling over, under,
round, between. At one point, when Harry was a few yards in front
of me, he suddenly disappeared from sight as though swallowed by
the mountain.
Rushing forward, I saw him scrambling to his feet at the
bottom of a chasm some ten feet below. Luckily he had escaped
serious injury, and climbed up on the other side, while I leaped
across--a distance of about six feet.
"They could never have brought her through this," he declared,
rubbing a bruised knee.
"Do you want to go back?" I asked.
But he said that would be useless, and I agreed with him. So
we struggled onward, painfully and laboriously. The sharp corners
of the rocks cut our feet and hands, and I had an ugly bruise on my
left shoulder, besides many lesser ones. Harry's injured knee
caused him to limp and thus further retarded our progress.
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