CHAPTER XVIII
A GUESS THAT HIT THE BULLSEYE
As Frank made this astonishing declaration his chum looked blankly athim, the information having evidently surprised him not a little.
"A tame panther, you mean, Frank?" he exclaimed, weakly.
"That's just what I'm hinting at," replied the other, positively.
"With a collar around his neck, too?" murmured Bob.
"Yes. I saw it as plain as I see you now," Frank went on. "It waswhen I jumped forward, and gave him the first crack that made him fallaway in a hurry. A collar that was broad and stout. Why, Bob, when hethrew back his head to avoid punishment I could even see where a chaincould be fastened, and the animal kept in confinement."
"Whew! but he acted like a wild one, all right," protested Bob.
"He sure did, Bob; but that was because he had already been stirred upby the fight with Spanish Joe. I reckon the cowboy must have give hima few jabs with that handy knife he owns. Anyhow, the panther wasspoiling for a scrap, and didn't care a cent how many there were."
"That was before you gave him his finish with that fire-stick, Frank.Didn't that knock the old chap silly, though? Why, it took all thefight out of him, for a fact. He was the tame panther all right whenhe ran away, with his tail between his legs. Think he'll tackle usagain?"
"No telling; but I don't believe the beast cares much for runningagainst my torch again. It might pay for both of us, though, to keepon the watch," Frank replied, always on the side of caution.
"But I say, Frank, is the fact that he's private property going to makeany difference; that is, do I shoot straight if I get the chance again?"
"Well, I say yes," answered the other. "Given half a chance and he'dmaul us the worst way. No matter who's property he may be, I'd advisehim to keep clear of Haywood and Archer. They're marked,dangerous--hands and claws off, but come along, Bob; let's be moving."
"Wait, there it comes again, Frank. Don't you think we'd better liedown till the worst is over?" ventured Bob, as he caught the openingnotes of the mighty anvil chorus that would soon be in full blast.
"Well, now, perhaps that wouldn't be a bad idea, Bob. Suppose we dostretch out here, you facing one way and I another."
The two crouched there. Frank had thrust the torch into a crevice, forhe wanted the use of both hands in gripping his rifle. If the wildbeast guardian of the cave tried to attack them again, he felt that hewould like to be in a position to shoot.
"Feel the wind, will you?" called Bob, as the sounds mounted higher andhigher.
"I'm afraid our torch is going to be blown out," Frank replied,pointing to the flaring light, which was being hard pressed by thesuction that seemed to rush through the cave, heading always toward themouth.
"Say, Frank, the air feels wet!" shouted Bob, while the racket was atits height.
Of course this was no special news to Frank. He, too, had noticed thesame thing, and mentally commented on it. And as it was in line withcertain suspicions which he already entertained, he had felt amplyrepaid for taking such hazards in plunging into that black cave.
Then suddenly an extra strong blast put the torch out.
"Wow! there she goes, Frank! What will we do now?" yelled Bob, ofcourse feeling a new uneasiness because of the intense darkness, thepresence of an angry animal near by, and the general air of mysterythat hung over the scene.
"Nothing. Just wait till the storm blows by; and then we'll light upagain," was what Frank shouted back at him.
Already it was diminishing. Like the receding waves of the great oceanthe uproar died down, growing fainter with each pulsation.
And finally there came again the silence that in one way was almost asdreadful as the clamor; during which Frank proceeded to light the torchagain, though not without some difficulty.
"Frank, you felt that wet sensation, like fine spray, didn't you?"demanded Bob, as soon as he could speak with comfort. "Why, touch yourface right now; and you'll find it moist. Whatever can it mean?"
"I think I know," Frank said, slowly. "I suspected it before, and thisseems to make it look more than ever that way."
"Do you mean that you've guessed what makes all that frightful noise?"asked Bob, astonished.
"I believe I have," came the reply.
"And it has to do with this misty feeling in the air; has it?"continued the Kentucky boy.
"If my idea proves the right one, and I'm bound to find out before I goaway from this place, it's got everything to do with it, Bob."
"Where there's smoke you'll find fire; and where there's mist I reckonwater can be looked for," remarked Bob, quickly.
"Just so. Now Bob, have you ever been up in the Yellowstone Parkregion?"
"I can't say that I have, Frank."
"Then you see I've got the advantage over you; and that's what gave mea point in the game. Because I've stood and watched Old Faithful andthe other great geysers play every half hour or so," Frank went on, asthey slowly advanced into the passage which seemed possibly to act asone of many funnels through which the tremendous roaring sound wascarried to the outside world.
"Geysers!" cried Bob. "Oh! now I get onto what you mean. You think,then, that in the heart of Thunder Mountain a giant geyser spouts everyonce in a while; and that as the water is dashed against the rockywalls it makes the ground shake. Is that it, Frank?"
"Yes," replied the other, "and the noise is so like thunder that whenit is forced out through several queer, funnel-shaped openings likethis one, it has puzzled the Indians for hundreds of years. Bob, morethan that, I believe that every once in so many years, when an extraconvulsion shakes things up here, the water bursts out through somepassage, and rushes down that _barranca_ in a wave perhaps twenty feethigh."
"But they call it a cloud burst, Frank," suggested Bob.
"I know they do, but still I stick to my idea," Frank went on.
"And this promises to be an extra strong outburst. Nick said soanyhow; didn't he, Frank?" Bob queried, a new anxiety in his tone.
"Just what he did. You're wondering now, that if what I said is true,whether this passage right here is one of those through which all thatwater dashes, on its way to the rocky _barranca_?"
"Yes, that's the truth. How about it? Could you see any signs here totell about that?"
"I suppose I could if they were here, but I don't discover any.Besides, I thought of that before we entered, and I give you my wordthat I don't believe any big volume of water ever went out throughhere. It couldn't do it and not leave some sign behind."
Bob heaved a big sigh.
"Well, I'm right glad to hear you say that, Frank, seeing that we're sofar in now, we wouldn't have any chance to escape if it came along.Whew! I wouldn't like being carried through here, and shot out of themuzzle like a bullet. But seems to me the place is getting biggerright along, Frank."
"Just what it is. Now you can see how like the neck of a bottle thecave is; and I think that has had a heap to do with the way thatthunder noise gets loose. Why, they say that some days, or nights, itcan be heard more than twelve miles away. I've seen Navajo Injuns dropflat on their faces, and lie there all the time we could hear thedistant thunder in a clear sky over our way."
"But is it possible that some hermit is living in this cave?" askedBob, thinking that it must be a queer sort of person who would remainwhere he must listen to such fearful sounds every once in a while.
"I told you to notice when we heard the noise the first time," Frankwent on; "while we were in camp on the plain, that the night was clear,and the wind almost in the Southeast. Well, I made sure that it was inexactly the same quarter tonight when we were climbing the mountain.That means something, Bob."
"To you; but to me it's only a blank," admitted the tenderfoot,regretfully.
"I fancy that the direction of the wind has something to do with theworking of this queer old geyser in the heart of Thunder Mountain. Itonly rears up when the wind is in the Southeast, as it
is now. Butsay, you said something about a hermit just now?"
"I only said I thought it strange a fellow could live here through allthe racket, year in and year out, just to get away from his kind," Bobremarked.
At that Frank laughed.
"But what if he had a big object in it, Bob? What if some daringprospector, taking his life in his hands, had plunged into one of thesecaves of the winds, this one right here, for instance, and struck itrich. Gold will make men do nearly anything. I've seen 'em go crazyover finding a nugget, or yellow sand in their pan. Don't you see whatI mean, Bob? Have you forgotten little Lopez, and how frightened helooked when we spoke about keeping him company?"
Bob uttered a cry that might stand for either astonishment or delight,perhaps both.
"Frank, it just takes you to see through the mill stone, even if ithasn't got any hole in it," he declared. "I understand what you meannow. Little Lopez has been coming here for a year or more, alwaysbringing supplies. Perhaps he carries away the gold dust the miner hasgathered in that time, and no one the wiser. It has all been a deadsecret. And the terror of the Indians for this haunted mountain, aswell as the way the cowboys leave it alone, has helped this bold miner.Frank, your shot hit the bull's eye, and who knows but what we may beon the way to find out the truth right now?"