Francis Worcester Doughty

“ Meanwhile the loud cracking which had startled him was followed by a crash awful beyond all telling, and I saw the whole roof of the cavern break away. Great rocks were falling all about us; behind, a black gulf had opened; whirling down from snow-clad peaks now for the first time visible, a mighty wind came sweeping, splashing the rain about as though some bursting reservoir had been suddenly emptied out upon our devoted heads, but through it all that same strange calmness still held its sway.
“Hope!” I cried, flinging one arm about Maurice who was sinking slowly down upon the rocky ledge. ”

“ Maurice, old man, how do you feel now?”
“Better,” answered Maurice, “much better, thank you Doctor, but I haven’t got my legs yet.”
“That will come in time; but look here, my boy, you must eat something. Let me warm you up some rice. It’s all we have. We may as well view the situation philosophically, eat, drink and be merry, for as sure as there is a God above us, we are doomed to death by starvation unless help reaches us from outside.” ”

“ Maurice, your weight is something fearful.”
Maurice staggered to his feet, and catching my arm clung to me trembling; yet he was entirely cool.
“This is no earthquake,” he said. “I have experienced too many shocks since I have been in the East to make a mistake.”
“But what else then? We are supposed to be on a mountain—is the mountain tumbling down?” asked the Doctor.
“It is a wash out of some sort,” I asserted boldly. “You know we decided some time since that we were in a limestone region, Doctor; the cavern may have been undermined for years for all we know.” ”