Roy Blakeley's Adventures in Camp/Chapter XXXI

Honest, as sure as I'm sitting here, I would have gone down first—after the way that fellow spoke to me. It just sent thrills through me. And only a couple of days before, I didn't like him and I thought he didn't trust Skinny.

I grabbed hold of him and,I said, "Bert, I—just a second—please—I have to tell you—if I don't see you again—I mean so I can speak to you—I have to tell you, you're a hero—"

But he jerked my hand off his sleeve. He didn't say anything, but just jerked my hand off his sleeve. And I stood there holding the paddle, and I could hear the water rushing in the valley, and I was breathing hard and all trembling,

I called, "Bert! Are you all right, Bert?"

But he didn't answer. Then I went to the edge and I was all shaking from head to foot. But I was ready. It was all dark down there and I couldn't see. Anyway, I was ready.

​"Bert!" I called, and I just waited. I could hear the water rushing through the valley and sometimes sounds like trees breaking. And I heard a tree-toad moaning—it seemed funny to hear that.

"Bert!" I called. I felt cold, and my wrists were all tingling. "Bert!"

Then I stuck the paddle in the mud and hung my hat on the end of it. Just then I heard a voice. It sounded strained and not like Bert's, as if it couldn't speak on account of pain.

"Don't—jump—stay—"

I waited a few seconds and then called, "If you're hurt, I'm coming anyway."

"Don't—jump," he kind of groaned; "I'm all right. Just a strain. Don't jump."

I sat on the edge waiting. I was just counting the seconds. I was afraid he'd never speak again.

Then he said, "All right, kiddo—just strained my wrist."

"Are you sure?" I called down; "dip it in the water; slap some mud on it. Is he dead?"

I knew now that he must be all right, because I heard him move. For about half a minute he didn't answer. Then he called up:

​"He's alive, but he isn't conscious."

"How about you?" I said.

"Alive and conscious," he said; "don't worry."

Then for about a minute he didn't speak.

"Do you want the paddle?" I called.

"Nope—chuck it," he said. "This is a place of mystery. Know where the water went? There's a passageway down here; it's big enough to crawl through. Ouch!"

"Tell me the truth," I said, "you're hurt."

"I'm in a very critical condition from a swollen wrist," he said; "shut up, will you! There's a secret passageway or something or other down here. Where do you suppose it goes?"

"Hanged if I know," I said; "what about Skinny?"

"He's breathing, that's all I know," he said.

For a couple of minutes I sat on the edge thinking and I could hear him down there. I didn't know what he was doing.

Then I called, "You know Rebel's Cave, don't you? Above the shore south of Nick's Cove—near the outlet? Maybe it comes out there—the passage, I mean."

"What makes you think so?" he called.

"I don't say I think so," I said; "only there's a ​kind of a passageway that goes into the hills there. It starts in the cave. None of us ever followed it, because it's so dark and wet. A fellow found an old musket stock there once."

"What do you say?" he called; "there's no time to lose, that's sure. Shall I try it? It would take an hour to flood this pesky old hole, even if I could stop up the passage."

Then all of a sudden I knew why he had told me to be ready with the paddle. It was so I could open a little trench through the muddy land and start the water flowing into the pit. That way he'd get to the top with Skinny,

"But you can't stop up the passageway," I said. "The water flowed through it and went out somewhere—maybe through the cave and back into the lake. If it's big enough you could do the same. Both of us—

"Stay where you are," he shouted, "and don't be a fool, Do you suppose I want to carry two fellows through there? One's enough. By heck, I'm going to try it—it's the only thing to do."

"Suppose it shouldn't bring you out anywhere?" I said.

"Suppose it should," he fired back at me.

Then he said, "Now, Blakeley, I'll tell you what ​to do. I'm going to start through this place with the kid—he's alive, that's the most I can tell you. It must come out somewhere and I'll bank on its coming out where you say. If it doesn't and—"

"Don't talk like that, Bert," I said; "it's got to, if you want it to. What is it you want me to do?"

He said, "I want you to beat it up through the mountains that close in Nick's Valley. That way you'll get to the lake. Don't expect to see Nick's Cove, because it's off the map. When you get to the lake, find somebody. Get over to camp if you can—I don't care how. Maybe the boat we left in the cove is cast up there—you can't tell. Anyway, keep your head and don't get excited. The lake is there, It'll be lower than it was, but all the water below the valley level will be there. Get some people and take them to Rebels' Cave or whatever you call it and just wait."

"Is that all I shall do?" I asked him.

"What else can you do? Just wait there; or two or three of you might come in with lanterns to meet me."

"Suppose you're not there?" I said, all trembling.

"Well, if I'm not there, you'll know I'm with Skinny anyway, and if anybody ever digs up our ​bones, they won't know who's who. Hurry up now. Beat it. And remember you're a scout."

"But suppose—"

"You leave that to me," he said.