Only for his intense eagerness to hear every
sound Bob might have been tempted to thrust his fingers into his ears
in order to shut out the awful clamor.
To him it seemed as though a thousand anvils were being beaten in
chorus, with a few other minor chords thrown in for good measure.
And what interested Bob most of all, as he crouched there listening,
was the fact that all this dreadful noise seemed to be coming directly
from the spot where his comrade had pointed out as the opening of a
cave.
There was not the faintest trace of lightning accompanying the
manifestation; and this proved, beyond all question of dispute, that
the mystery connected with Thunder Mountain had nothing to do with an
electrical storm. Possibly the observing Indians had many years ago
discovered this same thing; and it had strengthened their belief that
the great Manitou spoke to his red children through the voice of the
wonderful mountain.
It took longer, this time, for the noise to die away; just as though,
whatever its cause, there was increasing reluctance to subside again.
"That was a screamer, sure enough!" said Frank, when he could make
himself heard above the declining roar.
"And Bob, you noticed, didn't you, that it seemed to come right out of
that hole? All right, it begins to look now as if we were Johnny on
the spot, if we've got the nerve to push things. Somewhere in there,
Bob, lies the explanation of the mystery.
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