The Banner Boy Scouts on a Tour Part 36

Paul took the lead as the four boys moved away. Mr. Gordon looked after them; but having the utmost confidence in the young patrol leader, he did not ask them what their intentions were. And none of them imagined they would be gone any great length of time.

Presently they had pa.s.sed the line that marked the boundary of any former search for fuel. And Paul noticed as he walked on, holding the rude torch above his head, that the winding pa.s.sage seemed to be constantly getting larger. This gave him the idea that they must have fallen into one of its extreme branches; and that perhaps, after all, their exploration might reveal wonders of which none of them had so much as dreamed.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

THE BOY SCOUTS AS EXPLORERS

"Oh! Shucks! there she goes again!" exclaimed Bobolink, when the torch suddenly whiffed out, to leave them in the dark.

Bobolink sometimes carried the light when the splinter of wood Paul had held burned to its finish. He was not as careful as he might be, and consequently twice already had they been compelled to stop and use a precious match in order to renew the illumination.

"You want to be more careful, Bobolink," remarked Paul, as he applied a match to the still smouldering torch his companion carried.

"I was trying to keep from trouble," grumbled the one who had been at fault; "but something just seemed to snuff it out. Did anybody hear a sound like a dog growling right then?"

"Oh! my, what do you mean, Bobolink?" asked Joe; "you're just trying to scare us, and you know it. 'Taint fair either. I felt a draught of air, and that was what puffed your light out. There ain't any wild animals in here, are there, Paul?"

"I don't think so," replied Paul, smiling at Joe's alarm; "because you can nearly always smell the den of a fox or a wildcat. Now, what are you staring at, Bobolink?"

"Look there, what d'ye call that, fellows?" demanded the torchbearer, pointing ahead to where the little light just managed to win out against the gloom.

"Been a fire in here, that's sure," observed Jack, eagerly advancing.

In another minute all of them were bending over a flattened heap of ashes, undoubtedly the remains of some fire made by unknown people who had occupied the cave.

"Wonder whether they were tramps, or thieves?" Bobolink was saying.

"Perhaps neither," remarked Paul, who was looking closely about him, with the intention of allowing nothing of moment to escape his gaze.

"Huh! then you think perhaps that Ted Slavin and his crowd might have made this fire; is that it, Paul?" asked Bobolink, quite satisfied to have another do his thinking for him.

"Well, hardly, because these ashes have been here a long time, perhaps several years, for all we know," remarked Paul.

"Go back a little further, Paul, and say the mound builders left 'em,"

chuckled the doubting Bobolink, who always had to be shown.

"Look for yourselves. You know what fresh ashes are like. These have settled down a long time. If it was outdoors now, the rains would have washed them away; but sheltered in this cave they've just blown about by the current of air. And see here why I know no boy sat beside this fire," and while speaking Paul walked over to pick up several things his quick eye had discovered.

"An old shoe, and a big one at that!" said Jack, nodding his head, as if agreeing with his chum's version.

"And a tomato can with the top cut away," broke in Bobolink, as he looked, "and a stick in the hole of the cover. Say, Paul, I guess you're right, because I've seen tramps heating coffee in that style. It wasn't Ted and his crowd after all; and I guess the old mound builders didn't have tomato cans to use."

"Or coffee to put in them," laughed Paul, turning the can upside down, and allowing some dark grains to fall on his palm; at which Bobolink sniffed, and then threw up both hands as though giving in.

"Shall we go on further?" asked Paul. "I'm ready to leave it to the rest."

"Sure," declared Jack, without hesitation.

"Count me in on that, Paul," came from Joe, stoutly.

"I'm all to the good," remarked Bobolink; "because, you see, we want to know what sort of a joint we've got here; and if there's any front door to the same. We just sort of fell in at the back entrance; which I take it was hardly the proper thing for decent fellers to do. Skidoo, Paul; we're on your track!"

For some little time after that they found nothing of interest. The pa.s.sage kept winding in and out, in a way that was "some confusing," as Bobolink said. And since there were other pa.s.sages branching off the main stem Paul thought it wise to bring his red chalk into play.

Accordingly, he marked an arrow that always pointed along the right channel, and was calculated to lead them back to where the balance of the troop was quartered.

"That's a cinch!" was the way Bobolink greeted this action; and indeed it seemed that no one could possibly miss the route with such a guide at hand.

But they had forgotten that light was absolutely necessary in order to tell the way these arrows pointed. Pretty soon Jack awoke to the fact that they no longer seemed able to pick up small pieces of wood which could be used as torches.

"And our supply has nearly run out, too," he added, holding up only one more piece.

"That looks serious," said Paul; "and perhaps after all our smartness we're going to get lost in the dark. How many matches in the crowd?"

A hasty search revealed the act that all told they could only muster nine; for they had been using quite a number.

"That isn't much to count on, if we have to depend on them till we get back to where we can find wood again," remarked Paul, thoughtfully.

"What shall we do, boys?"

"I'm willing to leave it to you," replied Jack; who suspected that his chum had an idea of some sort, which he was ready to spring on them.

Both the others agreed with Jack; for they knew that Paul was better able to grapple with such an emergency than either of them claimed to be. And besides, it is so nice to have another fellow do all the thinking at such times.

"Then listen," said the patrol leader; "the fact that we can feel a draught of air plainly here tells me there must be another opening to the cave not very far off. If that is the case perhaps we could reach it easier than go back over all the ground we've covered. What say, fellows?"

Every boy declared himself in favor of pushing on into the unknown region that lay before, rather than to take chances trying to retrace their steps. Perhaps the spirit of adventure lured them on more or less, for it appeals to almost every lad with red blood in his veins.

"That settles it, then; and we'd better get off at once," remarked Paul, satisfied that it was all for the best.

The last torch was speedily used. Then they crept along in the dark for a time, after which one of the matches was struck very carefully, in order that they might see their surroundings.

"Wow!" exclaimed Bobolink as he found himself looking into what seemed to be a very deep and black hole; "wasn't it lucky we got the glim going when we did? I guess I'd dropped into that pit if we'd held off any longer. My good little angel must have warned me to light up."

After that they were even more careful. None of them felt like taking a header into such a gulf, since a fall might break limbs, or do even worse.

"That was my last match!" announced Bobolink, after a while.

"I've got just one more," said Jack, dolefully.

Paul had another, and Joe was completely out. Still there did not seem to be any end to the pa.s.sage; and Paul, for the first time, began to suspect that they had made a serious mistake in deciding to go ahead, instead of retreating.

"I'm just getting played out, and that's no yarn," announced Bobolink, who had been limping for some little time, and grunting, as he would himself have said, "to beat the band."

"Suppose then, you three wait here for me," proposed Paul; "I'll make my way along further, and try to find out if there is any hope of finding an opening. I promise to keep one hand on the wall here, so I can get back again."