8

THE CAVE’S SECRET

The next day Marc pretended to be asleep until he knew his father had eaten breakfast and gone into his office. Then he scrambled out of bed and hurried to gather up his spelunking gear. Dad had put his personal stuff in the shed behind their house. On the way out Marc got his dad’s helmet and carbide lamp for Hermie. He had told Hermie to wear his oldest clothes and shoes. The cave might be muddy.

Bluedog wanted to go. Marc debated, knowing it was foolish to take a dog on a caving expedition. If there was some climbing, even scrambling up and over rocks, Bluedog would be a nuisance. On the other hand, Marc made a habit of taking her everywhere except to school. He’d be gone all day. And she had discovered the cave. He could make her sit and stay if they got into territory too difficult for her. Fortunately she was very well behaved. Probably better behaved than I am, Marc thought with a smile. He felt guilty going off without telling his father where he would be, but he knew he could never stand it if his dad said he couldn’t go.

He ate a bowl of cereal while he thought about taking the dog. By the time he tipped up the bowl and drained the rest of the milk, he had voted yes. Bluedog, the spelunking dog. He hoped he wouldn’t regret the decision. To his gear he added an old T-shirt for lowering her into the cave. It was still amazing to him that she had fallen into it while chasing the rabbit without getting hurt. She must have slid most of the way. And maybe her jumping ability had taught her to land safely. Yep, she’d be okay in the cave.

Marc took the precaution of hiding all their gear in his backpack and a duffel bag. If they ran into Mooney again, their supplies wouldn’t give away where they were going. He’d say they were going to camp out.

“Hi, Hermie.” Marc met Hermie at his back door. “Ready?”

“I guess so.” Hermie sounded resigned to his fate. He was eating a banana and had a lunch sack big enough for two days’ worth of food.

“Planning on staying underground overnight?” Marc asked, pointing to his sack and laughing.

“Lordy, I hope not. But I might get hungry. Where’s Eddie?”

“He said he’d meet us here.” Hermie and Marc sat on the back steps of Hermie’s house and waited. A half hour went by. Marc started to wiggle as much as Bluedog, who kept staring at him and smiling. Why aren’t we going someplace? she was asking.

Eddie slid his bike to a stop in the driveway. “Sorry I’m late. Gramma made me go to the store for her.” He popped a comb out of his pocket and slipped it through both sides of his hair, as if riding over to Hermie’s had put it out of place. No way, with the Brylcream plastering it down.

“Think you’ll meet Louanne in the cave?” Hermie often gave Eddie a bad time about having his hair so neat. Eddie just threw Hermie a dirty look and put his comb away.

“I thought you might have had trouble slipping away.” Marc saw that Eddie had his gear hidden in an old backpack, too.

“Nah. Pops was dozing on the front porch. No one cares where I am.”

No one cares where I am either, Marc thought. Then he remembered to be glad about that, this time.

“Okay, let’s go.” Marc slipped on his pack and called to Bluedog, who was napping under the steps.

“Holy Cow! You taking that dog?” Eddie asked, with disbelief.

“Sure. She found the cave. She deserves to go.”

“That’s dumb, Marc. A dog in a cave? That’s a bunch of horse pucky.” Eddie pulled out and rode ahead of Marc and Hermie. It might be, Marc admitted again to himself, but he was determined to try Bluedog in the cave. She looked up at him and smiled as he got on his bike. “You want to go, don’t you, Bluedog, don’t you girl?”

She barked and bounced, eager to run.

Their luck held, and they didn’t run into Mooney or anyone else who might ask where they were going. They did take the precaution, though, of hiding their bikes at the cutoff and looking in all directions before they disappeared into the brush and headed toward the cave entrance.

Bluedog didn’t want to go back into the hole, but Marc went first and had Eddie and Hermie lower her down. She whined and leaned against Marc’s legs when he took her out of the sling. “Good girl, Blue, good girl.” He reassured the dog that he would be with her.

“I don’t like this,” Hermie said, when he tumbled in a heap beside Marc, knocking his glasses off. He had walked his way down the slope like Marc had instructed, but he let go of the rope before he got his footing.

“Everyone is scared at first,” Marc told him. “It’s normal. Even some good cavers admit to being claustrophobic in tight spots.”

“We’re not in a tight spot and I’m already feeling it,” said Hermie, looking glum.

“I was never afraid.” Eddie swung over beside them and untied the rope from his waist. They left it dangling there, tied to the rock above. They had used Eddie’s rope.

“I’m going to leave my rope here,” Marc decided. He laid the heavy coil up against the wall of the cave where they had come down. “If we have to climb where we need a rope, I’ll come back and get it, or we’ll do the climb another day. I don’t want to carry that weight all over.”

Marc had shown Hermie how to light his dad’s carbide lamp while they were in daylight, waiting for Eddie. Marc had cleaned both lamps after his swimming trip the day before. There was a satisfying pop as his lamp flared and burned brightly.

“What if our lights burn out before we get back?” asked Hermie.

Just the idea of being caught in any cave without light made Marc’s stomach do flip-flops. “Don’t worry, Hermie, I always carry a flashlight and a supply of candles. My matches are in an old Band-Aid can to keep them dry.”

“I feel like a miner,” said Hermie, buckling on the helmet Marc had handed him after taping his lamp to the front.

“As much as I like exploring underground,” Marc said, “working in a mine would be the last job I’d choose.”

It took about twenty-five steps to lose the small amount of light coming from the entrance. “I don’t like this,” Hermie said again. His voice sounded funny bouncing off the rock walls.

Their lights cast huge shadows around them. The passageway narrowed down, and there was a drop-off on the right.

“Where does that go?” Hermie asked, peering downward.

“I don’t think it goes anywhere.” Marc shined his light into it. “For my money, it’s just a hole.”

“We could walk right into a hole like that,” said Hermie.

“Stay with us,” Eddie said, “and watch for holes.”

A shiver flew up Marc’s back. He didn’t want to tell Hermie that he was both scared and excited every time he entered a cave. If Hermie thought Marc was the least bit scared, he’d turn back.

“Look at those big rocks just sitting up there.” Hermie pointed his light overhead. “Any of them could fall on us. I don’t like that idea at all.”

“Hermie, would you stop worrying!” Eddie was disgusted.

“Well they could, couldn’t they, Marc? I read about that Floyd Collins guy who was trapped in a cave by a falling rock. And he was an experienced caver.”

“You read too much,” said Eddie. “If you’re going to whine the whole time we’re in here, go back and wait for us.”

“Alone?” asked Hermie. He stopped worrying out loud, but one glance at his face told Marc he was really scared.

“I still think it was stupid to bring Bluedog,” Eddie said, and took off in the lead. He stopped to scramble into the drop-off and confirm that it went nowhere. “How can she climb anything?”

“She’s my dog.” Marc was more tired of Eddie’s remarks than of Hermie’s being scared. “I’ll be responsible for her. She might even find something we’d miss.”

“Dogs have a great sense of smell.” Hermie stated the obvious, probably just to change the subject from caves.

Eddie twisted his remark. “Yeah, especially when they’re wet.” He laughed and hurried on. Marc let him go. He planned to stay with Hermie and help him get over being afraid.

“Think we’ll find gold?” Hermie was still thinking about mining, or trying to cheer himself up.

“Something better,” Marc predicted. “I hope we’ll find evidence of Indians. I’ll bet the Osage knew every cave in this area. Sometimes they used them for storage or for hiding things.”

Bluedog was acting strange. She didn’t run ahead or back and forth like she did when they were in the woods. In fact, she stayed so close to Marc that he had trouble walking.

“I think Bluedog’s scared, too,” Marc told Hermie and laughed.

“Smart dog.” Hermie walked almost as close as Bluedog. Marc felt like a human magnet.

The cave was cold and damp. Marc shivered, even wearing his sweatshirt and denim jacket. Most caves are around fifty-five degrees inside, quite a change from the summer ninety-degree temperatures above ground. Marc knew he’d get used to the cold soon. He was probably sweaty from riding his bike.

They had walked about a city block when they came to Eddie, who was stopped before them. He had squatted down and was nibbling on a Baby Ruth bar.

“Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!” said Hermie. They shined their lights on the wall. Sheets of water had formed rippled and folded flowstone. A couple of stalactites had come all the way down to meet stalagmites on the floor, forming slender columns.

“Not bad,” said Eddie, “but I’ve seen better. Which way do you want to go?” One pathway headed downhill, another continued straight ahead.

“You choose, Hermie,” Marc suggested. “We’ll stay together.”

“How will we know how to get back to the opening, if we wander around in here?” Hermie wanted to be sure they got out.

“I’m making a map.” Eddie showed Hermie a scrap of paper and a stub of pencil he carried in his pocket. He had made a Y and sketched in the two columns and the flow-stone. “You need to remember to turn and look back occasionally, too. Things look different from the other side.”

Marc had a good sense of direction. He hardly ever bothered writing anything down. But he did take careful note of everything he saw on the walls, weird rocks, bumps along the path, formations.

“That way.” Hermie pointed straight ahead. “It’s bigger.”

“Might be a pretty good cave,” Eddie said, before they went the way Hermie had chosen.

“I can hear water dripping,” Marc said. “At least it’s a live cave.”

“Are there dead caves?” Hermie asked, a funny hitch in his voice.

Marc laughed. “A dead cave is dry. Live caves have water dripping or running into them, and formations are still growing.”

“I got a book and read it after going to the dentist yesterday,” Hermie said. “I thought there’d be more stalactites and stalagmites. And some crystals and those neat soda straw things.”

“They only put the best caves in books, Hermie.” Eddie stuffed his candy wrapper back into his pack. “You probably won’t see all that fancy stuff down here. That flowstone may be the best formation in here.”

The cave had more piled rock than Marc had ever seen. There were loads of huge boulders stacked on each other. The path Hermie had chosen came to a dead end almost immediately. There wasn’t even the promise of a crawl space. The ceiling lowered. Eddie got down and waddled to the end of the passageway.

“Nothing,” he reported when he wiggled out.

They retraced their steps and took the other tunnel. Soon it slid steeply downhill, narrowed, and the ceiling lowered again.

“Horse pucky,” Eddie complained. “Two paths leading to zero.”

“Then we have to go back home,” said Hermie, his voice hopeful.

“Let’s be sure.” Marc shined his light up and down both walls while Eddie belly flopped and scrambled into the end of the tunnel they were in.

Eddie never hesitated to crawl into the narrow spaces. Marc envied his daring; he was always nervous when he had to crawl into or through a tight spot. He’d been spelunking long enough to know he probably would never get over that tiny fear. So he forced himself to push it back and keep going. He trusted his dad, though, and that helped. Now he was with Hermie, who had never been caving before, and Eddie, who seemed to have no fear. From other times they’d gone together, Marc knew Eddie was sometimes reckless. He felt it paid to be cautious underground.

“Look, Marc! Up there.” Eddie pointed to a spot near the ceiling of the cave. “Boost me up. I think there’s an opening behind that huge boulder.”

Marc’s heart pounded. He could see what Eddie had spotted. He shined his light and examined the ledge, but he couldn’t tell from the ground if it was a tunnel. Giving Eddie a leg up, he watched him grab hold of an outcropping of rock, pull himself level, then disappear. His legs dangled for a couple of seconds, sneakers scraping the hole, sending pebbles down the wall. The rocks bounced and echoed through the underground passageway.

“That’s a creepy sound.” Hermie sat down to dig in his pack. He pulled out half a bologna sandwich to give him strength. “I don’t like this.”

“You already said that.” Marc laughed and sat beside him. “Three times.”

“I’ll probably say it again—in fact, right now. I still don’t like this.” Hermie bit into the sandwich. It was so quiet Marc could hear Hermie chewing.

“This is more like it.” Eddie’s head appeared above them. “There’s a big room over here, and tunnels go off in all directions. One heads downhill.”

“You guys go on,” Hermie decided, giving Bluedog the rest of his sandwich. “I’ll wait here with Bluedog. She can’t get up there.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Marc said. “I figure I can lift her up. One of you can pull her through the hole. She may not like it, but she can do it. Stretched out, she’s skinnier than any of us. You go on up, Hermie. Then lean down and take Blue’s forefeet. I’ll boost her up.”

Hermie grumbled. “If I get stuck, you guys will be sorry.”

“Yes we will, so don’t. I’ll never get out of here.” Eddie reached for Hermie’s hand to help him onto the ledge.

Marc almost fell trying to boost Hermie up. Then, when Marc pushed on his rear, Hermie lost his balance and fell back, nearly squashing Marc. “Come on, Hermie. I can’t lift you. You have to help. Grab a knob of rock or something.”

Groaning, Eddie pulled and Marc pushed. “Holy Cow, Hermie,” Eddie complained. “You’ve got to lose some weight if we’re going to do this all summer.”

“I’m not going to do this all summer.” Hermie bellied over the ledge and into the hole.

It couldn’t be any harder to get Bluedog through. Except that she didn’t want to go. She whimpered and licked Marc’s face as if to say, “Do I have to?”

“Come on, Bluedog. You can do it.” Marc lifted her, leaning against the wall. Bluedog’s hind legs pushed on his chest and kicked him in the chin, but Eddie managed to lean over far enough to get a good hold. He pulled her through the hole.

“I can’t believe I’m spelunking with a dog,” Eddie said, as he leaned back through the hole and reached for Marc. “Hold my legs,” he called back to Hermie, who had wiggled through the short crawl. “Hey, I’m glad you went on through. If you’d have gotten stuck, we’d be on this side. We could go home.”

“And leave me here, stuck, I guess. That’s not funny, Eddie.”

Eddie laughed anyway. Being taller than Hermie, Marc managed to jump and grab Eddie’s outstretched hands. Hermie held onto Eddie so Marc wouldn’t pull him off the ledge. Eddie wiggled backwards, into the hole, and Marc braced his feet on the wall until he could grab a rock in the opening. Then he pulled himself up onto the ledge and slid through the hole. There was a pile of dirt on the other side, so it was easy to slide down. Getting back through would be a cinch.

Bluedog danced and barked when Marc slid down beside her. Her voice echoed, sounding strange in the hollow underground tunnels. Marc laughed. “I’ve never heard a dog barking in a cave. Good dog, Blue, good girl.”

“Gee.” Hermie looked around as far as he could see with his headlamp. “This room is as big as the school cafeteria.”

“Almost. I’m going to check for tunnels off to the right.” Eddie went on, not waiting for Hermie and Marc.

“We’ll go the other way and meet you,” Marc called to Eddie. Marc’s stomach felt as if it were full of bats, wings whirring against his insides. He was certain they were going to find something neat. The cave itself was thrilling, but he wanted more.

“Here’s a tunnel,” Hermie said with excitement in his voice. Marc hoped he was starting to forget his fear and see how much fun exploring a cave could be.

“We won’t go in until we see what Eddie found.” Marc led the way around the big room.

“Hey, look up here,” Hermie said pointing. “There’s a crack along the middle of the ceiling. All those rocks up there look like dinosaur bones.”

They did. The spine of a brontosaurus. It was probably just a coincidence, but stranger burial grounds for dinosaurs had been found. Marc didn’t think there had been any dinosaurs found in Arkansas.

“There are two tunnels over here, and one of them branches off.” Eddie reported when they caught up to him. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s split up—each of us take a tunnel. We walk for five minutes or until it pinches down, then come back here, ten minutes in all. That’ll save time and give us an idea of the length of each tunnel.”

“I don’t want to go off by myself.” Hermie’s voice wavered.

“Look, it’s just upright walking. If you have to crawl, you turn around and come back.” Eddie had no patience with Hermie’s fear.

“Walk straight, Hermie. Don’t make any turn-offs to other tunnels. Map it in your mind, though. Walk straight in, straight out.” Marc thought Eddie had a good idea. And it was safe enough. “Okay, look at your watches.” Marc shined his light on his wrist.

“You take the first one I passed, Hermie,” Eddie suggested. “It was big and wide. Not even you could get stuck. It’s probably the main tunnel. Go around those big rocks.”

“Okay, Hermie?” Marc asked, giving his friend a chance to back out.

“Okay,” Hermie agreed reluctantly. “Five minutes.”

“I’ll go back over to the other end,” Marc said to Eddie. “You take this one. Don’t do anything crazy, Eddie.”

“I won’t.” Eddie sounded disgusted. But Marc knew Eddie. He could get carried away, and if one of them got into trouble, they’d all be in trouble.

Marc patted Bluedog and snapped his fingers, telling her to follow him. Bluedog had relaxed a little and trotted right beside Marc as he hurried back to his tunnel.

To his disappointment, the pathway didn’t last long. It ended in a mound of flowstone—at least it was pretty. Marc shined his light so he could see the formation better. It looked like the hind end of an elephant, complete with narrow tail. It was orangy and slick where iron water had run over it for centuries. As he turned around, starting back, Bluedog began to whine.

“What’s wrong, Blue? What’s the matter, girl?” Marc leaned down and patted her. Then he shined his light in the direction she was looking.

The tunnel didn’t stop after all, but turned an abrupt corner beside the elephant. Marc looked at his watch. He’d been gone five minutes. He shined his light around. This was the only opening. He’d follow it a few steps.

Bluedog didn’t want to go with him. After they squeezed by the flowstone, she sat down and continued to stare into the darkness. A chill crept up the back of Marc’s neck. He could feel those little hairs there standing up as stiff as a scrub brush. What could Bluedog see that he couldn’t? What could be in there—an animal?

Marc didn’t think there’d be any animal in the cave unless it was a bat. Would Bluedog be afraid of a bat?

“Come on, Blue. You’re being silly. I’ll go first.”

Slowly Marc made his way into the smaller tunnel. His helmet scraped the top of the passageway. He stooped over, took one step, looked all around. One step, a look around. He could almost feel his ears stretching for any sound. It seemed quieter than usual, if that was possible.

He and his dad had split up occasionally when it seemed safe, but right now Marc was terribly aware that he was all alone. He’d never had such a creepy feeling. Bluedog had made him feel this way. He glanced back. She sat watching Marc, not even smiling.

“Come on, Blue.” She brushed her tail on the floor. But she sat there like she had plopped down in Elmer’s glue.

“Silly dog,” Marc said loudly. He took a deep breath and turned around.

Another step, another look. Another step, another look. About ten steps into the passageway, Marc could see far enough ahead to realize the tunnel ended. All this getting scared for nothing. He relaxed, lowering his lamp to study the floor. Then something at the end of the narrow corridor caught his eye. It was a long, rounded heap of dirt—not a natural formation.

And at the far end, pushed neatly into the mound, was the shaft of an arrow.