Pals: Young Australians in Sport and Adventure

by Carol Norton

  *CHAPTER XXVI*

  *THE EXPLORERS*

  "'The best hearts, Trim, are ever the bravest,' replied my uncleToby."--STERNE.

  "That's a valiant flea that dares eat his breakfast on the lip of alion!"--SHAKESPEARE.

  "How quickly we ran into that poison-trap! No smell or anything to warnus," remarked Neville, when the normal condition of the lads wasrestored, "save a nauseous feeling which supervened."

  "Whatcher think made it hang like that, Mr. Neville? Seemed to me likean invisible fog that we suddenly encountered."

  "That is really what I believe it to be, Tom. I know from what I haveread and heard, the gas is colourless and quite heavy. An uncle of mineis a colliery manager in Wales, and this fire-damp, or choke-damp, as itis sometimes called, is often fatal, because it fills the lungs so thatno other air can enter, and in this way suffocates its victims. We werejust on the fringe of it, I think.

  "As I was saying, this fire-damp, which is always much more dangerousafter an explosion in the mines, is generally formed by thedecomposition of certain substances in vegetable fibres, or in veins ofcarbonised mineral. That is why it is called carbonic acid gas. It ismuch heavier than the air. You remember the passage was contracted, andthe air seems to have become impregnated at that particular place."

  "Well, whatever it is," said Joe, who had just made a few spasmodicheaves, "it's good enough to keep out of. Let's give the acid, or gas,or damp, or whatever it's called, leg bail."

  The party of defeated but not disgraced explorers now retraced theirsteps. Eagerly scanning the walls as they retreated for signs ofdiverging passages, they soon found themselves at the landing, whencethey swung down into the blind alley that led to the main passage.

  "Sandy," said Joe, when the party had emerged, "give that passage aname. Leichhardt gave names, you know, to all the creeks, hills, andwater-holes he discovered in his travels. I reckon yon's our discovery.Faugh!" ejecting a mouthful of saliva, "it tastes like rottensoda-water. Let's call the beastly place by a name that'll fit it."

  "Christen away."

  "Me! Well--er--how'd 'Poison Pot' do?"

  '"Death Trap' would be better," replied Sandy. So thought the others,and it was accordingly named "Death Trap Passage."

  "Now, chaps, let's get back to the cathedral. There's a likely spotthere--that hole, I mean, where the boulder was jammed."

  "What's the time, Mr. Neville?" asked Joe, on arrival at the bigchamber.

  "Quarter to one."

  "Why, we've hardly been three hours in! I made sure it was about six."

  "I vote we have a go at the prog," chipped in Tom. "It'll help to takethe nasty taste away."

  "Good idea!" was the general verdict.

  The pals had lost a good deal of their natural spirits. Three hoursgroping in semi-darkness, with a throat full of choke-damp thrown in,was enough to stale the strongest; yet they had no thought of surrender.They were "baffled, to fight better."

  In a few minutes the outer entrance is gained, and in another fiveminutes they reach camp.

  The hot tea was particularly acceptable. Nothing in the wide worldcould have been more refreshing and stimulating. Billy-tea boiled withgum sticks, just so far sweetened as to countervail the naturalroughness without impairing the aromatic flavour, stands at the head ofall beverages--whether aerated, brewed, distilled, or concocted.

  "My word, this is bully tea, ain't it?" cried Tom, smacking his lipswith satisfaction, after emptying his pannikin for the third time.

  Neville in particular--to whom the outing and the exploration was a newexperience--felt, as he puffed at a cigar, the stirrings of a larger anda nobler nature than that which had hitherto exercised him. Businesslife seemed flat and stale compared with this al fresco existence.

  "Time to be goin' back again," said the practical Sandy, breaking in ona post-prandial reverie. "Gimme the tommie, Joe."

  Tomahawk in hand, the boy walked to the sapling clump, and selecting astout specimen, vigorously attacked it with the weapon. From this hecut two six-foot lengths, sharpening the thicker ends, crowbar fashion.

  "What's that for, Sandy?"

  "To prise the boulder. They'll make capital levers."

  Armed with these additional implements, the lads returned to the caves,and in due course lowered themselves into the cathedral.

  The spot which Sandy had mentally marked as a likely one has alreadybeen described. It was a cleft in the floor at its junction with thewall, and immediately behind a huge stalagmite. It must have escapedthe vigilant eyes of the professional trackers. The corner was a verydark one, and unless one looked closely behind the boulder the cleftwould not be observed. Sandy had lit upon it in a promiscuous search,and was impressed by its possibilities as another outlet, or inlet, toother cavities.

  No sooner had the boys arrived at the spot, and Sandy had cast his eyeupon it, than he exclaimed, "Somebody's been here!"

  "How d'yer know?"

  "This stone is not in the same position as when I last saw it."

  "Who could it 'a' been?"

  "Dunno. I'm crack sure, however, that this stone was not square downthe other day. The flat of it was down and the point of it up. Nowit's reversed. Besides, here are crowbar marks."

  "It'll be hard enough to get out--much harder than it would 'a' been ifit hadn't been touched."

  "Must have been a strong chap that turned it!"

  "Strong? No one man could ever have done it! It would be difficult fortwo. Why, that stone's not a pound less than four hundredweight!"

  "Well, time's goin'," said Joe, "and what's done's done. Let's at it,Sandy. Up-end her, and throw her over on the floor."

  The lads vainly tried to insert the wooden bar. The cracks between thelid, so to speak, and the edge at the opening were not sufficiently wideto admit this.

  "It won't do," said Sandy after a while; "we're gettin' no forrader."

  "I suggest," interposed Neville, "that you widen the cracks."

  "How can we do that?"

  "Will you let me have a try?"

  "My!--rather. Anything to get the blame thing out."

  Neville picked up the tomahawk that was lying near at hand, and beganstriking the edges of the hole where Sandy had been prising.

  "That's the stitch!" cried Tom. "Well done, Mr. Neville!"

  The limestone readily yielded to Neville's strokes, and the crevice wassoon wide enough to take in the thick end of the stout gum sapling.

  Sandy and Neville, taking a pull at the end, levered the stone highenough for Joe, who had the other bar ready to insert between the raisedend and the floor stone. With this additional lever power the "stopper"was canted on one side, high enough to put the stone chocks in. Anotherapplication of the bars, with two boys hanging on each and pullingsimultaneously, brought the "stopper out of the bottle," and toppled itover with a thud that shook the floor; bringing down a stalactite with acrash, fortunately without harm to the exploring party.

  Before venturing down, Joe, in whose mind an idea had been fermentingwhile the stone-raising business was being carried on, criticallysurveyed the stone "stopper."

  "Look here!" remarked he, "these are the marks of an iron crowbar.Whoever removed this had the proper tools for it. Whatcher make ofthat? That upsets the town party theory, don't it?"

  "It certainly makes the puzzle harder," said Neville.

  "Think so? Makes it easier to me," quoth Sandy.

  "How's that?"

  "Looks more'n more like Ben Bolt's work."

  "Think he's in there now?" exclaimed Tom, in an awed whisper.

  "No, I don't think that. But it shows me that he's knocking about hereagain, an' he's been in the caves quite recently."

  The boys looked into each other's faces, and felt--well, just as youwould feel, brave reader, were you in the cavernous depths of earth, inthe very haunts of proclaimed outlaws, not knowing at what moment theymigh
t spring upon you. Standing in the cold, damp, dim underground, atthe mouth of an unknown passage, which might take you to the innermostden of the outlaws, could you contemplate advance without an attack ofthe creeps? The crevice, after going down sheer a few feet, turned on alevel plane, right across the floor of the cathedral, in a westerlydirection. How far could be known only by actual travel.

  "Come on, boys," said Sandy, after a moment's silence; "it's what we'vecome here for. I believe, for one, we're goin' to solve the mystery."

  One by one the lads dropped into the bottom of the well. The passagewas of unequal width, but always wide enough to allow the party toproceed without squeezing, and had a fairly level floor. The floor,after extending two hundred paces or so in a westerly direction, beganto decline somewhat sharply, and presently Sandy gave a warning shout--

  "Water ahead!"

  The others crowded round him as well as they could. There, at their veryfeet, was a pool of water of unknown depth.

  "Here's a go, chaps! Looks as if it might be a swim."

  The pool covered a fairly wide stretch, and was in a dip of the passage.

  "Don't think it's a swim myself," remarked Joe. "Let's take off ourboots an' pants. I fancy we'll find it only a wade. We can movecautiously and test it with a bar as we proceed."

  The party did as suggested, and found to their satisfaction that thewater did not rise above their knees; for none of them relished a swimin the icy water. After re-dressing, the company moved forward, andsoon emerged into a spacious cavern that fairly sparkled with limecrystals. Little time, however, was spent in admiration. They movedacross it in the same direction, and found two exits. After a shortconsultation, they decided to take the larger of the two passages,because it seemed to be a continuation of the old track. Just as theystarted, Tom, who was in the rear, on looking round, saw what appearedto be a bundle on the floor of the cave, some distance to the right.

  "Wait a moment," cried he, as he ran to the object. "Oh, I say, here's afind!"

  The others, who were in the entrance, backed out, and ran to his side.Tom held the old vine ladder in his hands.

  There was no longer any doubt. There could be only one conclusion. Atthe sight of this the boys had a bad attack of the creeps.

  "It's the 'rangers all right. They've slipped the police again." Thereseemed to be no alternative to this conclusion. "Seems to me,"continued Joe, who was the quickest of the lot in reasoning out a thing,"that they've been back here again, and knowing that the bobbies'll beon the watch to trap 'em at this spot, they've locked up the house, in away of speakin', an' thrown the key inside. I vote that we go on."

  No one said nay, and so the advance was made. The passage presented noserious obstacle, widening and narrowing at intervals, but never toonarrow to proceed. As they were squeezing through a difficult place,Sandy again sounded the alarm.

  "What's up now?" said Joe, who was just behind.

  "'Nother big cave, an' a deep drop into it, same as the other. There'sa bar across here where they've slung ropes. Undo the lasso, chaps."

  "Let's hope we're getting near the end of it."

  The speaker was Joe. The truth is, the work was most tiring in itsnature, and the spirits of the party were yielding to a very uneasyfeeling, despite Joe's plausible theories that the end might be thereverse of pleasant. Should Ben Bolt, after all, be in hiding, well--theworst might happen.

  Fixing the rope, they slipped down to the floor of the new cave. This,though not remarkable for beauty, was commodious enough, and had severaloutlets, in one of which there were indubitable evidences of theone-time presence of horses.

  "Hello! here's the stable," cried Tom, who was first in this recess.

  Sure enough in a vault-shaped but very roomy cavern, entered by a widepassage, was the robbers' stable. Several bundles of bush hay werestacked in one corner. A manure heap filled the other. All this pointedto a prolonged occupation. The idea of the robbers' presence had somaterialised by these later evidences that the boys felt they might beconfronted at any moment by the desperadoes.

  "What'll we do, Joe?" said Tom. "Slip quietly back again?"

  "Slip back again, after getting this far! Don't be frightened, Tom."

  "I'm not; y'are yourself."

  "Well," replied Joe, with a smile, "I'll not deny that I've felt like itmore'n once. But there's one thing you've not noticed, chaps."

  "What's that?" chorused the group.

  "There's not been any horses here for weeks."

  "How d'yer know?"

  "No fresh droppings."

  That fact was indisputable, conclusive, and enheartening. It lifted aload of apprehension, to call it by no harder name; and now, withbuoyant spirits, to which they had been strangers for some time, theboys continued the search. The end, indeed, was close at hand.

  "Look out sharply for tracks," was the command of the leader on leavingthe stable, stooping low as he spoke, and eagerly scanning the floor.Hoof-prints were discovered and followed. They led to a corner of thebig cave which narrowed at that point, and continued on as an opening.After going a few paces, Sandy called out, "Hurrah--hurrah! Lightahead!"

  Sure enough, a few yards farther the passage was lighted with naturalrays that shot through a small opening some distance ahead. The partywas exultant, and needed no telling that this was sunlight. In thissubterranean fashion the explorers had traversed, mole-like, the rangespur, and proved the theory of the dual entrance.

  Like as the exultation of Columbus when the first sight of the new worldconvinced him that he had solved the riddle of ages, or as Leichhardtfelt when he and his dauntless band stood upon the shores of the greatnorthern gulf, after having passed through the very heart of Australia's_terra incognita_, so did the breasts of these brave youths swell withthe spirit of triumph when that ray of light revealed the joyful factthat they, a group of mere youngsters, had succeeded where the expertshad failed.

  The whole company darted through the spacious passage to the opening.It was in the face of a cliff, and fully fifty yards from its slopingbase. So steep was the cliff that, viewed from a distance, it appearedperpendicular; forbidding to anything save rock wallabies and--Ben Bolt.

  Its very roughness, however, made its ascent a possibility. Had it beena smooth face, no horse, however capable, could have climbed it. BenBolt was always able to achieve the possible. Many of his wild ridesbordered on the miraculous. His personality magnetised his steeds.Wherever he led they would go, and so the steep ravine that rose fromthe rocky base to this entrance afforded a precarious footing for theoutlaw's horses.

  "Now then, boys, before we go down, let's give a cheer," said Sandy.Led by the leader, the group signalled its victory--for such it was, andno mean one--by a rousing cheer that woke the echoes of the precipiceand spread wave-like over the landscape beyond.

  It penetrated the ears of two men who were riding quietly in the bushthat lay beyond the rocky plateau which formed the base of the cliffs.

  "What's that?" exclaimed the elder to the youth who rode at his side.

  "Sounds like a cheer," replied the youth. "Who can it be--traps?"

  Turning their horses' heads, they rode swiftly but silently to the edgeof the scrubby timber which they were traversing. Halting just withinthe bushy barrier, they parted the leaves, and there, perched high upthe cliff's side, were four youthful forms--the band of cave explorers.

  "Now, boys, we'll go back an' have another look round before we leave.Might find something belonging to Ben Bolt worth carryin' away. We caneasily get out on this side, and cross the spur a little higher up,where the cliff runs out. 'Twon't take long neither! I say--won't wehave a yarn to spin to-night!"

  But the unexpected is yet to happen. The company retraced their stepsto the cave, and did a little exploration; finding nothing, however, buta couple of leather mail-bags and some opened letters--the remains ofcoach-robbery spoils.

  "This is the last one, mates," remarked Sandy, a
s the group entered themouth of a passage. After traversing its course a little distance, itopened up into a small cave, twenty feet square. On one side of it werebunks similar to those in the other cave. While in the act of examiningit, Joe fancied he heard a footfall. Stopping a moment to listen, hedistinctly heard the sounds of stealthy footsteps.

  "'S-s-sh-h-h, boys! Some un's followin'!"

  At this startling statement the boys halted and turned round, to beconfronted by two forms hardly distinguishable in the surrounding gloom.The pals gave a gasp of terror as the call peculiar to highwaymen smotetheir ears and they faced two weapons, levelled point blank.

  "Hands up!"

  Candles are dropped in sheer fright in an eye-wink, and hands go up ingross darkness.

  The sun had just set as the four youths, in company with two men,mounted their horses and took the track leading to Bullaroi. Strange tosay, the lads showed no signs of fear, nor were they bound with cords.

  "By jingo!" cried Tom, who had just put his horse at a big log andcleared it in fine style, followed in order by Joe, Sandy, and Neville,"this is the grandest outin' I've ever had!"

  "It's a' very weel," answered Mr. M'Intyre, who with Denny Kineavy hadbeen following the tracks of some strayed cattle which were making forthe ranges, and were passing the cliff opening while the cave explorerswere ringing the welkin with cheers, "but supposin' that instead o' us,it 'd really been the bushrangers returnin' and catcht ye trespassin'?What then, ma laddies?"

  This query raised visions of possibilities that sobered the vaultingspirits of the pals for some brief moments. Very thankful were they in amoment of reflection that they had been bailed up by a friendly enemy.

  "Heigho!"

  "What's matter, Joe?"

  "Fun's all over: measly school opens to-morrow!"