Roy Blakeley's Adventures in Camp/Chapter XXIX
CHAPTER XXIX
TELLS ABOUT HOW WE LOOKED INTO THE PIT
I never saw anything like that before and it—it didn't exactly scare me—but it made me feel sort of funny. It gave me the creeps to see right in front of me like that, how lakes and valleys and all the land could be changed and me standing there watching it. It seemed as if the earth was being made all over again, as you might say.
"That's where we came through only a little while ago," I said, "how will it be inside where the lake was—is?"
Especially it seemed queer like, because it was getting dark fast and the sound of the water rushing and the sky all black made everything seem awful gloomy.
"Is Temple Camp all right, do you suppose?" I asked Bert.
"Guess so," he said, "that's over on the south shore. But hanged if I know how we're going to get there or anywhere else. Guess we'll just have to stand here like the Statue of Liberty."
I said, "Listen to the water."
"It isn't so high in the valley," Bert said; "it must have been worse a couple of hours ago," Then all of a sudden he said.
"Shh—listen!"
"I hear it," I said.
"No, not the water," he said; "listen. Do you hear a sound like groaning?"
I listened, and as sure as I was standing there, I heard a low sound, as if someone was groaning far away.
"That isn't the water, is it?" Bert asked.
"Sure it isn't," I told him, "and it isn't from up through Nick's Valley, because, look, the wind is blowing from us that way."
I held up my scout scarf to show him how it blew toward the valley. And again we heard the groans, long and low, sort of.
"It's somewhere right around here," Bert said; then all of a sudden he said, "Look!"
Just in back of us, not more than twenty or thirty feet off, was the pit. I could see it plain, because the stone work came up a couple of feet or so above the ground. Right close to it was a canoe all smashed in. I could see now that a couple of hours or so earlier, the water must have poured through there when it first overflowed the creek.
We listened again and could hear the groaning plain.
"I don't know who it is,"" Bert said, "but that's the Gold Dust Twins' canoe. Come on."
We plodded over through the mud and water to the pit and looked over the edge. It was pretty dark down there, but I could see that there was only a little water in the bottom of it—not much more than before.
"That's funny," Bert said; "it must have overflowed in there when it first splashed down into the creek bed."
He felt in his pocket and took out a flashlight and held it down the hole, but it was wet and wouldn't light.
"Look down at the bottom, over at the Ieft side," he said; "do you see something?"
At first it looked like a bundle all covered with mud, Then I saw something white on it. It was a face. It didn't budge, just lay there; and it seemed awful white on account of the bottom being almost dark.
"It's Skinny," Bert said, in a kind of whisper.
I just said, "Yes."
I couldn't say anything more, because I was all trembling.