CHAPTER XII
IN THE DARKNESS
Now the girls had been hungry before the accident occurred and, it beingseveral hours since then, they were, by this time, as any one couldreadily see, in a rather bad state. Therefore, Amy's complaint was veryunfortunate and, had it not been for Betty, it might have ruined themorale of the girls completely.
"Good gracious, Amy, don't talk about starving to death," cried Mollie,dismayed. "That's coming too near the truth for comfort. Oh, thismiserable stone. It's cutting clear through my hand!"
"And my back is nearly broken," said Grace, adding, as she turnedferociously upon the still-sobbing Amy: "Stop that crying, AmyBlackford. Don't you know it is catching?" and a suspicious break at theend of her sentence, proved the truth of the assertion.
"Girls, please don't," begged Betty, still digging automatically at thestubborn wall of stones and dirt. "If you all begin to cry, then wemight just as well throw up our hands and say we are beaten."
It was not long after that that the girls found what they called their"second wind." They forgot that they were ravenous, that their backsached and that their hands were scratched and torn. They workedfuriously in the darkness, their goal the out-of-doors they loved sowell.
For a long time they did not notice that the air was becoming very closeand oppressive and that the perspiration that bothered them so wascaused not alone by their exertion. And when the realization did come ithad the effect of goading them on to more furious effort.
That the horses also felt the change in the atmosphere, was attested toby their increased nervousness. The trampling of their hoofs soundedominous to the girls--they made queer little puffing noises as if theywere getting their breath with greater and greater difficulty.
In one terrible instant the girls realized what might happen when whatwas discomfort to the animals now, should become torture. Maddened bypain and fright, it would be no longer possible to quiet them. Andthen--and then----
"Don't you think we'd better stop and try to quiet the horses?" askedMollie once, as the champing and snorting in the blackness behind thembecame more marked.
"I don't think it would do any good," Betty answered between clenchedteeth as she scooped and dug, scooped and dug. "Better keep on working,girls. It's the one chance we have."
Oh, the horror of it, the nightmare of it! The heavy air, the hideousdark, the nervous trampling of those death-bearing hoofs---- The girlsspoke no longer. They were beyond speech. Almost maddened by terrorthemselves, they scooped and dug, scooped and dug----
Once they thought they heard voices outside, and shrilly they cried totheir imaginary rescuers. No answering "hallo" reached them, and theonly effect of their cries seemed to be to add to the fright of theirhorses and so endanger themselves still more.
On, on, on--while their aching muscles seemed to grow numb with thestrain and their lungs nearly burst with the pressure upon them.
At last they gave in--it seemed that they had to give in. All exceptBetty, who kept on desperately, doggedly, her muscles barely able torespond to the last call she was making upon them.
"I can't go on any more. I'm all in," said Mollie, a desperate quiet inher voice. "My arms are like lead and my hands are so numb I can't feelthe stone. I guess this is the last adventure of the Outdoor Girls. Wehave just had one too many, that's all."
"Oh, Mollie!" Betty drew in a labored breath that caught on a sob."Please don't give up--please! I've counted on you----" she paused,jerked her head up, her attention turned on the spot where her handstill automatically dug at the earth.
She sniffed, experimentally, sniffed again, stilling the wild throb ofhope that was almost a pain at her heart.
"What is it, Betty, what is it?" cried Mollie, sensing somethingstrange. Amy and Grace fought off the dizziness that was stealing overthem and leaned forward.
But Betty had jumped to her feet, had dropped the stone and was tearingwith her bare hands at that thin place--that thin place---- It gaveunder her mad onslaught, and suddenly her hand slipped through into theair--the air---- A breath of it swept into her tortured lungs, and sheleaned there, laughing, crying, the tears of sheer weakness running downher dirt-stained face.
"Girls!" she babbled, "out there is the air--the good old air--enough ofit for all of us! We're saved, do you hear? We're saved!"
Exhausted as they were, the girls tore at the tiny hole that Betty hadmade until there was an opening big enough for them to crawl through.
And oh! the indescribable ecstasy of it, the joy of it, just to liethere, trembling with weakness, and drink in great drafts of thatlife-giving air, thinking of nothing, caring for nothing but that theywere alive there in their great out-of-doors. One never comes really toappreciate life until one has been close to death.
It was a long time before they ventured to go on. They had not realizedhow near exhaustion they had been until the tension had relaxed. When atlast they did start for home, on foot, they were still trembling andthey dared not glance down the canyon at their right for fear ofbecoming dizzy.
They had been long hours in the cave, and when they finally left thetrail and cut across the plain toward the ranch it was nearly dark. Theydid not realize the startling sight they must present to any one whomight not know of their plight until they met Andy Rawlinson and someother boys from the ranch starting out to search for them.
At sight of the mud-stained, blood-stained Outdoor Girls, Andy Rawlinsonfairly tumbled from his pony and came running toward them while theother boys stood agape.
"What in the world----" began Andy, but Betty stopped him with a wearygesture. As briefly as she could she told him what had happened andasked him to go back and get their horses.
"It's getting pretty dark now, you know," she reminded him, when heseemed inclined to linger and ask questions. "Soon you won't be able tosee what you're doing. Won't you please hurry?"
"Surest thing you know," responded the boy quickly, his nice eyes fullof sympathy for them. "Some of the boys will see you home--your folksare getting awfully worried about you, you know--and the rest of us willgo on and dig out the poor bronchos. So long. We'll be back pronto."
"And now home," sighed Betty, as she looked at the ranch house justvisible in the distance. "And a bath--and something to eat. What doesthat sound like, girls?"
"Heaven!" they answered.