Dan Carter and the Great Carved Face Part 17

Mr. Hatfield studied the wall of bushes overhanging the water.

"I think I see where that current goes underground," he declared. "Quick, Brad! Bear down or we'll lose that paddle."

Brad took several quick thrusts of his own paddle. With a sc.r.a.ping of twigs, the canoe nosed into a tangle of brush.

Directly ahead, the truant paddle had snagged against a log which protruded from the water. Beyond, the swift-flowing current seemed to vanish into the cliff itself.

Barely in time, Mr. Hatfield reached out to s.n.a.t.c.h the floating paddle.

As Brad now held the canoe steady, the trio studied the face of the cliff with keen interest. The water here was very deep, flowing silently into the dense wall of bushes.

"Edge in a little closer, Brad," Mr. Hatfield instructed.

Brad obediently steered the canoe deeper into the brush tangle. It was hard to keep the craft pointed downstream, for the current kept pulling the bow.

Mr. Hatfield pulled aside some of the heavy branches. At the sight before them, Brad and Dan sucked in their breath.

A torrent of water flowed silently, mysteriously into a great, arching cavern. The three amazed explorers could not see its end.

"A cave!" Dan whispered in awe.

"Our paddle would have been sucked in there if we hadn't s.n.a.t.c.hed it just in time," added Brad. He grasped a tree branch with one hand, helping Mr.

Hatfield hold the canoe steady.

"This explains what became of those first two paddles we lost," Mr.

Hatfield declared. "Undoubtedly, they were sucked into this cave.

Furthermore, the underground current explains what's happened to a number of things that have disappeared on the river. Mr. Holloway lost a life preserver last summer. He hunted for miles down-stream, but never could find it."

"Doesn't anyone know about this cave?" Dan asked, staring into the dark, silent water.

"Never heard it mentioned," Mr. Hatfield answered. "The park people may have this underground stream mapped, but I rather doubt it. The preserve was set up only a little over a year ago, you know. Parts of the area never have been fully explored."

Brad was impatient to investigate the cavern. The entranceway was very small, just large enough to admit a canoe, but not with its occupants sitting upright.

"Say, if we all lie down, we can get in there," he estimated. "It will be a tight squeeze though."

"And we wouldn't know where we were going, or what we were running into,"

Mr. Hatfield put an end to his plans. "I'd like to learn what's inside the cave, but we're not going to be foolhardy."

"Then if we can't shove the canoe in, how are we going to recover our lost paddles?" Brad demanded, disappointed by the Cub leader's rejection of his proposal. "How'll we ever find out where the stream goes or what's in the cave?"

"Maybe we never will," Mr. Hatfield replied. "We're not taking risks, and that's that."

Actually, as he peered longer into the dim, dark cave, Brad lost much of his desire to explore. He could see that the current moved swiftly along the rock floor. Even if it were possible to get the canoe in for a short distance, it might be impossible to work it out again against the stiff opposition of the racing underground stream.

"The water is swift," Dan observed, "but it doesn't look very deep inside the cave."

Mr. Hatfield had made the same observation. He instructed Brad to pull the canoe up onto the tiny stretch of beach close by.

"Then we are going to explore?" the Den Chief demanded.

"Not exactly. I want to probe the depth of the water at the mouth of the cave."

Beaching the canoe, the Cubs searched and finally found a long, fairly straight stick which could be used as a measuring rod.

Following Mr. Hatfield, they inched their way along the cliff wall, fighting bushes all the distance.

The ledge was so narrow that only the Cub leader could peer into the cave opening.

"What do you see?" Dan demanded eagerly.

"Nothing but damp walls veering upward to a rough, low roof," Mr.

Hatfield answered. He had thrust head and shoulders into the opening, so his words were m.u.f.fled. "I wish I had a flashlight."

"Want me to go back for one?" Brad asked.

Mr. Hatfield turned down the offer, pointing out that the hour already was late. By the time Brad could return, it would be nearly dark.

Carefully, the Cub leader measured the depth of the water. At the mouth of the cave, it was nearly waist level. But a foot inside the entrance, the depth was six inches less.

"Unless I'm mistaken, the floor of the cave slopes upward," Mr. Hatfield declared.

"Then farther back, you think the water might not be so deep?" Dan questioned.

"That's the way it looks from here. I can't see very far though."

"Gosh, wait 'till the Cubs hear about this cave!" Brad chuckled. "And won't we have it all over the Den 1 fellows! I sure wish we knew what's back in there."

Mr. Hatfield had completed his inspection of the entranceway. He now backed away to rejoin Dan and Brad.

"We might be able to explore it," he said, dubiously.

"Today?" Dan's voice became electric with antic.i.p.ation.

"No, that's definitely out. We'd need flashlights and lots of batteries, a good stout rope and maybe some other equipment. Besides, I'd want Mr.

Holloway's opinion before tackling it."

"When can we do it?" Brad demanded. "Tomorrow night?"

"Possibly," Mr. Hatfield conceded. "I'm making no promises though."

Now that they could learn no more, the Cubs were eager to return to camp to tell their Den mates of the exciting discovery. Launching the canoe, both Dan and Brad paddled. However, it was hard work, moving against the current.

Nearly twenty minutes elapsed before the trio came within hailing distance of the camp.

"Perhaps it's just as well not to mention the cave tonight," Mr. Hatfield remarked. "I want the Cubs to know about it eventually. But if they learn about it too soon, it may get them all excited."

"And take their minds off the pow-wow," Dan added with a laugh. "We still have a lot of work to do around the camp before Sat.u.r.day."