"Even if it takes till morning?" Bob went on.
"Nothing else left to us; and morning won't be so very long coming,
perhaps, Bob. You notice, don't you, that the thunder now is about all
natural?"
"Well, that's a fact," declared Bob. "The geyser has stopped beating
against the inside of the mountain, hasn't it? Got tired of the job,
and quit for another rest, perhaps."
"I've got my idea about that," Frank said "You can see how the water is
still rushing along down there. It must be nearly ten feet deep, and
for some time, now, I don't believe it's varied. Don't you understand
what that means, Bob?"
"Good gracious! do you mean that the old geyser has turned into a
river, and will keep on running like this right along?" cried the other.
"Looks that way to me," Frank replied. "It is a great big syphon, and
once started, the water that has for centuries been wasting in some
underground stream is now flowing down this canyon. Perhaps long ago
it did this same thing, till some upheaval--an earthquake it might have
been--turned things around."
"But I say, Frank!" Bob exclaimed; "If what you tell me turns out to be
true, it looks as if we were bottled up in a nice hole, doesn't it? We
can't get up any farther; and if we go down we'll just have to swim in
a torrent that'll knock us silly. This is what I call tough!"
"Oh! don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Bob. This is a pretty good
sort of a shelf after all; and we'll be glad to stick to it till
morning comes.
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