“I don’t think you can bust those big ones. Besides that, I’ll give you two to one that they are sharp enough to cut through your boots.”
“I’ll chance it.” He found a chunk of rock and made an experiment; I was right on both counts. Hank stopped and looked the situation over, whistling softly. “Bill—”
“Yeah?”
“See that little ledge over the opening?”
“What about it?”
“It comes out to the left further than the crystals do. I’m going to pile rock up high enough for us to reach it, then we can go along it and drop down right in front of the cave mouth. The crystals don’t come that close.”
I looked it over and decided it would work. “But how do we get back?”
“We can pile up some of that stuff we can see inside and shinny up again. At the very worst I can boost you up on my shoulders and then you can reach down your belt to me, or something.”
If I had my wits about me, maybe I would have protested. But we tried it and it worked—worked right up to the point where I was hanging by my fingers from the ledge over the cave mouth.
I felt a stabbing pain in my side and let go.
I came to with Hank shaking me. “Let me alone!” I growled.
“You knocked yourself out,” he said. “I didn’t know you were so clumsy.” I didn’t answer. I just gathered my knees up to my stomach and closed my eyes.
Hank shook me again. “Don’t you want to see what’s in here?”
I kicked at him. “I don’t want to see the Queen of Sheba! Can’t you see I’m sick?” I closed my eyes again.
I must have passed out. When I woke up, Hank was sitting Turk fashion in front of me, with my torch in his hand. “You’ve been asleep a long time, fellow,” he said gently. “Feel any better?”
“Not much.”
‘Try to pull yourself together and come along with me. You’ve got to see this, Bill. You won’t believe it. This is the greatest discovery since—well, since— Never mind; Columbus was a piker. We’re famous, Bill.”
“You may be famous,” I said. “I’m sick.”
“Where does it hurt?”
“All over. My stomach is hard as a rock—a rock with a toothache.”
“Bill,” he said seriously, “have you ever had your appendix out?”
“No.”
“Hmmm… maybe you should have had it out.”
“Well, this is a fine time to tell me!”
“Take it easy.”
“Take it easy, my foot!” I got up on one elbow, my head swimming. “Hank, listen to me. You’ve got to get back to camp and tell them. Have them send a tractor for me.”
“Look, Bill,” he said gently, “you know there isn’t anything like a tractor at camp.”
I tried to struggle with the problem but it was too much for me. My brain was fuzzy. “Well, have them bring a stretcher, at least,” I said peevishly and lay down again.
Some time later I felt him fumbling around with my clothes. I tried to push him away, then I felt something very cold on me. I took a wild swing at him; it didn’t connect.
“Steady,” he said. “I have found some ice. Don’t squirm around or you’ll knock off the pack.”
“I don’t want it.”
“You’ve got to have it. You keep that ice pack in place until we get out of here and you may live to be hanged, yet.”
I was too feeble to resist. I lay back down and closed my eyes again. When I opened my eyes again, I was amazed to feel better. Instead of feeling ready to die, I merely felt awful. Hank wasn’t around; I called to him. When he didn’t answer at once I felt panicky.
Then he came trotting up, waving the torch. “I thought you had gone,” I said.
“No. To tell the truth, I can’t get out of here. I can’t get back up to the ledge and I can’t get over the crystals. I tried it.” He held up one boot; it was in shreds and there was blood on it.