Danny Dunn and the Fossil Cave Page 5

  He gulped. Then he calmed himself a little and got his right foot back on the firm rock. He inched himself away from that dreadful edge which he could no longer see. He was in absolute pitch darkness, a kind of darkness he had never experienced before, not even when he had once been shut in a closet by accident. This was a blackness which had never known any light, and he felt as if he were being crushed by it. Now, he was thankful that the walls were so close together. He put a hand on either wall and walked back the way he had come, trying not to give way to panic and break into a run. He kept telling himself that he would see his friends any minute. In spite of the coolness of the air he was drenched with sweat and had to keep wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

  The passage seemed to go on forever. But just as he was beginning to feel that he really couldn’t bear it any longer and would have to start yelling for help, he saw a pale glow ahead. It grew brighter, and then he could hear the happy sound of voices.

  He came out into the light of his friends’ lanterns and stood there blinking.

  “Well, it’s about time,” said the Professor, speaking in what was, for him, a rather severe tone. “Please, Danny, don’t ever rush off like that again. You must learn to control your impulses, at least while we’re still in these caves.”

  Danny tried to get his breathing back to normal again. At length he said, “I’m—I’m sorry. I know it was dopey. I won’t do it again.”

  “What about the tunnel?” asked Dr. Tresselt. “Any good?”

  Danny mopped his face. “No good to anybody,” he said, with a shudder. “Just no good at all.”

  “We were about to follow you,” said the Professor. “Good heavens! Did you know that the back of your jacket is torn?” He looked more closely at the boy. “And you’re as white as a sheet. Danny! What happened? What did you find?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “That’s right. The passage goes on until it turns into a lemon squeezer, and then it becomes—nothing. Just air. Listen, Professor Bullfinch, what’s the formula for a free-falling body?”

  The Professor, with a slightly puzzled air, replied, “s = 1/2gt².”

  Danny did a quick calculation in his head. “It took my flashlight five seconds to fall,” he said. “So that pit is about four hundred feet deep. All I have to say,” he finished, with a shudder, “is that it’s a good thing I was wearing this heavy leather jacket and not a light, thin sweater.”

  He told them the whole story, and when he was done Professor Bullfinch said, gravely, “A very lucky escape, my boy. That settles it; from now on we must all keep together. There must be no dashing off alone. Danny, I’ve told you several times that you must learn not to be so headstrong. A scientist must consider every step carefully before he moves, and if you expect to live to become a scientist—”

  “Don’t worry, Professor,” Danny said. “I’m not going to forget that moment in a hurry. When my foot just went into empty air—ugh!”

  “Good.” Professor Bullfinch smiled affectionately at the boy. “Now, let’s go on. I’ll walk in front, this time.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The Glittering Cave

  Danny carefully laid a trail of thorium nitrate crystals so that he would be able to find the right path with his Geiger counter on the way back. As they were waiting, Dr. Tresselt tapped Professor Bullfinch on the arm.

  “Euclid,” he said, “before we go on, I’d like to take a look at those reddish streaks Danny described, on the walls of this branch tunnel.”

  The Professor looked doubtful. “Do you think it’s wise?”

  “I’ll only go a little way in. As a matter of fact,” said Dr. Tresselt, “why don’t you come with me, and bring that C-ray? This might be a good time to try it. I have an idea about those streaks, and your device, if it works, might be helpful.”

  They entered the branch tunnel, and when they had gone round the first sharp angle of the rock, Dr. Tresselt pulled out his hammer and a small chisel. Professor Bullfinch held the light up for him, and the geologist examined the wall carefully. Then he chipped out a few pieces of the red material.

  “I think this may be clay,” he said. “Or perhaps mud, with a high percentage of iron oxides. It’s embedded in the limestone. What does that suggest to you?”

  Joe, who was peering over the Professor’s shoulder, said, “Mud pies.”

  The Professor snorted. “Not exactly. The river?”

  “Just so,” Dr. Tresselt agreed. “It looks very much as though there had once been another stream running through here, carrying mud in with it. Or… He paused, tapping his hammer pensively against the wall.

  “Or?”

  “I wonder if mud could have been washed in by the flooding of a river outside? Then, when the water subsided, the mud would remain and petrify. Much later, another stream might have risen in the mountain and begun to make its way through here, cutting away the solid mud and leaving these traces. Then that stream, too, vanished in its turn.”

  The Professor nodded. “I see. Let’s try the C-ray. It may show us some fossils in the mud.”

  It was difficult to work in that narrow space, but they got the machine braced on top of one of the knapsacks and the Professor turned it on. It hummed faintly, and the screen lit up. They saw a blurred tangle of vague shadows against the glow.

  “Not very clear, is it?” said Dr. Tresselt.

  The Professor turned a knob. Nothing happened. He began fussing with dials and snapping switches on and off, muttering to himself as he did so. Still, they could see nothing but those shadowy shapes, like the trailing edges of clouds.

  “Too bad,” said Dr. Tresselt. “But I was afraid it wouldn’t operate properly on stone.”

  Professor Bullfinch sighed, and snapped off the C-ray.

  “Well,” said Irene, as she picked up her pack again, “it’s a good thing there isn’t any fossil Joe inside that wall, stealing a stone chicken leg.”

  “Even a stone chicken leg wouldn’t be so bad,” Joe grumbled.

  Dr. Tresselt flashed his light down the tunnel. “I’d like to follow this to the end,” he said, wistfully.

  “Not today, Alvin,” said the Professor. “In the first place, if Dan was right you couldn’t squeeze through the last part of it.”

  “And a good thing, too,” said Danny, with a shiver.

  “But it’s important,” said the geologist.

  “It’s more important for us to find a way out,” the Professor said.

  “Mm. Yes. Well, I’m pretty sure that water came in here from another source,” said Dr. Tresselt. “Not from the river we followed. So if we keep going, we have a good chance of finding another way out—the place where that water entered.”

  They returned to the main tunnel. Joe took the C-ray and let Danny carry his flashlight. Off they went again, with the Professor in the lead.

  The tunnel began to grow smaller. The roof lowered, the walls drew in, and they had to go single-file once more. The Professor picked his way carefully, climbing over rough places and worming his way around and over bulges in the rocky walls. Suddenly, he stopped short.

  Danny, who was behind him, said, “What’s the matter, Professor?”

  “Nothing’s the matter,” he answered. “But this is well worth seeing.”

  “What is?”

  “Spectacular,” the Professor went on, without budging. “Truly beautiful.”

  “Professor Bullfinch!” Danny yelled.

  “Eh? What’s the matter?”

  “You keep talking about how beautiful something is, but we can’t see a thing unless you move out of the way.”

  “Oh, sorry,” laughed the Professor, and stepped forward. The others followed him at once. They found themselves standing in an immense cavern, far larger than anything they had yet seen.

  They s
aw at once why the Professor had exclaimed as he did. Their lamps seemed to flash from countless jewels, as they played them about the walls. From the high arched ceiling hung thick stalactites with rippled surfaces, some of them dark red, or brown, or jade green. Weird shapes rose all about them: rocks banded with many colors, worn and cut by water that had flowed through this chamber and carved it out countless millions of years before. Everywhere were crystals which sparkled like snow in the beams of the lights, or polished surfaces beaded with moisture, and as they stood silently gazing about them they heard the steady dripping of water from a dozen places, water that would slowly form more stalactites and stalagmites.

  “Jumping catfish!” breathed Joe at last.

  “I agree with you,” said the Professor. “There doesn’t seem to be much else to say.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “The Whole Cave Is Radioactive!”

  The five explorers advanced into the center of the cave. Here, the floor rose in a series of flat shelves, or rather, steps, to a kind of platform some six or seven feet high. Above this hung three huge stalactites, almost touching the top of it. Dr. Tresselt climbed up on the platform and placed his light behind one of the stalactites. They could see the light shining right through the translucent stone as if it were some kind of thick glass, now yellow, then as he moved the lamp, a faint rose color.

  “Listen,” he said, and tapped the stalactite with his hammer, gently. A deep-toned note boomed through the cavern, like a great bell.

  “Gee, what a church this would make,” Joe said, admiringly. “It’s got everything—even an altar and a bell.”

  They began wandering about the cavern, feasting their eyes on its wonders. They found a rock that looked like the face of an old witch, and another that had been worn into the shape of a roaring lion. They found, too, that there were a number of other tunnels leading out of this cave as if it were some central hall in an ancient castle, with all its passageways running off in every direction. They were of all sizes, some barely large enough for a man to creep into, some larger than the front door of a house.

  “Let’s sit down and rest for a bit,” the Professor said, after some moments.

  They made themselves as comfortable as they could on the steps of what they called the “Altar,” and Joe pulled out a bag of peanuts.

  “I found these when we were looking through our pockets a while ago,” he said, proudly. “Just let me count them…”

  “A peanut counter!” giggled Irene. “Almost as good as a Geiger counter.”

  “Better,” said Joe. “We’ve got to ration ourselves, though. Let’s see, five apiece and two leftover. Hmm. Professor Bullfinch, what’s the formula for dividing two peanuts among five people?”

  “Much too complicated, Joe,” said the Professor soberly. “Why don’t you simply split them in half. Each of you young people take one half, and Dr. Tresselt and I will divide the remaining half between us.”

  Dr. Tresselt nodded. “We aren’t quite as hungry as you are, I’m sure.”

  They ate their peanuts, with solemn and quiet pleasure.

  “How quiet it is,” Danny said, digging in his knapsack for the canteen full of water he had brought. “You don’t realize how scary it is, having a whole mountain on top of you, until you’re in the dark as I was in that tunnel, or when you begin hearing the silence.”

  “I didn’t know you could hear silence,” said Irene.

  “Then just listen.”

  They sat still, and Danny added, “Put out the flashlights for a minute.”

  In the dark, they understood what he meant. All the familiar noises of the upper world were gone: the wind, the rustle of branches or leaves, the chirping of birds, the sounds of automobiles and doors slamming, and people laughing. There was nothing but the faint tinkle of droplets of water, each drop like a distant musical chime, and each one pursued by tiny echoes. Then, after such a note had sounded there would be a long and empty quiet in which they could hear their own breathing and the steady beating of their hearts. They found themselves straining their eyes to see something—anything—the slightest sign of light, but they could not even tell the difference between opening their eyes and shutting them.

  Irene burst out suddenly, “Put on the lights!”

  Danny let out his breath with a whoosh. They all snapped on their lamps, and as the welcome light flooded the chamber, he said, “It’s—it’s like being buried alive.”

  “Don’t let’s try that experiment again,” Irene said, with a shiver. “I just hope we get out of here before our flashlights give out.”

  “Yes,” said the Professor, “perhaps we’d better start back. There are so many ways out of this cave that it would be hopeless for us to try to guess which one will take us back to the surface. At least, we know the way back, and when we come to the stone bridge we’ll just have to figure out a way to get across it. I still think we can manage with our ropes.”

  “All right,” said Dr. Tresselt. “Now, which way did we come?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Danny grinned. “I remembered to drop the thorium nitrate at the entrance. Just let me unpack the Geiger counter.”

  He got it out and put the earphones over his ears. In his left hand he carried the box which contained the power source and amplifier, and in his right the tube which looked like a microphone but which was the counter itself.

  “Let’s see,” he mused. “I think it was that one, where that shiny dark patch of stone is.” He went to the opening he had indicated, and held the counter close to the ground, moving it to and fro.

  “Yep!” he said. “This is it. I can hear the clicking.”

  He led the way into the tunnel. But they had not gone twenty yards before they came up against a blank wall, deeply scored as if water had churned round and round against it. At the bottom was a dark hole, much too small for them to get through.

  “We certainly didn’t come up that hole,” the Professor observed.

  “I must have made a mistake,” Danny said. “I guess I was wrong about the clicks.”

  They retraced their steps, and after searching about for a little while, Danny stopped at another tunnel. “This is the one,” he said. “I remember leaning against the pointed rock. Anyway, I think I remember…”

  He pressed the switch, and passed the counter back and forth. Then he took off the earphones and held them out. They could all hear the rapid, tiny clicking of the device.

  “That’s it for sure,” said Joe. “Come on, let’s get going. This place is giving me the creeps. I’d rather face the stone bridge and know that I was on my way back up to the surface, for sure.”

  They entered the second tunnel. But in a very short time, its walls closed in and then it came to an end.

  “This isn’t the one either,” said Dr. Tresselt. They returned to the main chamber, and stared at each other, somewhat fearfully.

  “I don’t understand,” Irene said. “We all heard the clicking. What was it, if it wasn’t the radioactive material Danny dropped?”

  “Maybe something’s wrong with the Geiger counter,” said Joe.

  “No, I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with it, or it wouldn’t make any sound at all,” said Danny. “Gosh! Maybe—maybe the whole cave is radioactive? Uranium! That’s it! Maybe the place is full of uranium.”

  Dr. Tresselt shook his head. “I find that difficult to believe,” he said. “There have been no traces of pitchblende or any such substance. Of course, there are radioactive substances beside uranium which might activate the counter.”

  Professor Bullfinch nodded. “It is just possible that the cave is mildly radioactive,” he said.

  “What’ll we do, then?” Joe demanded. “There are lots of tunnels. Even if the next one we try doesn’t end in a blank wall, how are we going to tell if it’s the right one? We can’t just wander around for
hours and hours and hours… Or can we?”

  Nobody answered him. He looked from one to the other. Then he said, “We’re stuck, aren’t we? Trapped inside a whole mountain of rock. Locked up—and we can’t find the key!”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A Disappearance

  With his usual composure and cheeriness, the Professor took command. “Let’s all go back to the ‘Altar’ and sit down for a moment,” he said.

  “Sit down? What good will that do?” Joe asked, glumly.

  “It will allow us to calm ourselves,” said the Professor. “You can’t think clearly if you’re worried or upset.”

  He led them to the platform and they sat down on the steps. The Professor pulled out his old pipe and lit it, and after a puff or two, said, “I’ll admit the situation looks bad. But I don’t think we need give way to absolute despair. It isn’t as if there were an infinite number of ways out of this place. There are no more than a dozen or so, and some of those we can cross off because they’re smaller than the way we entered by.” Irene said, “Then all we have to do is try one after the other, and sooner or later we’ll hit the right one.”

  “Sure, that’s all,” Joe said. “A mere nothing. Suppose it takes two or three days? We could die of hunger or thirst, or our lights could wear out. We wouldn’t get far in the dark.”

  “Exactly!” said Professor Bullfinch. “Joe, you’ve hit it right on the head.”

  “Gee, really?” Joe said. “Good for me. What’d I say?”

  “We must be careful not to waste our lights. Therefore, I suggest that we use only one at a time and save the others. I don’t think we’ll be here for days. But the sooner we start off, the better. I’ll go first, with one of the big battery lamps. You youngsters follow me, and keep your lights off. Alvin, you bring up the rear.” Dr. Tresselt said nothing. He appeared to be deep in thought.

  “Alvin!” repeated Professor Bullfinch. “Did you hear me?”

  “Er—yes. Yes, yes, yes. Splendid idea. I’m all for it,” said Dr. Tresselt, with a start.