Howsumever, we can wait awhile, being as our venizon isn't all gone, and we'll look down stream, for there's where our main chance must be." The Irishman, somehow or other, had formed the idea that the outlet of the water would show them a way of getting out of the cavern.

Despite his careless and indifferent disposition, he showed considerable anxiety, as he led the way along the bank, holding the smoking torch far above his head, and lighting up the gloom and darkness for a long distance on every hand.
"When your eye rists on anything interesting, call me attention to the same," he cautioned him.
"I'll be sure to do that," replied Fred, who let nothing escape him.
The scenery was gloomy and oppressive, but acquired a certain monotony as they advanced.

The dark water, throwing back the light of the torch; the towering, massive rocks overhead and on every hand; the jagged, irregular roof and floor--these were the characteristics of the scene which was continually opening before and closing behind them.

In several places the brook spread out into a slowly flowing pond of fifty or a hundred feet in width; but it maintained its progress all the time.
At no point which they examined did the depth of the water appear greater than three feet, while in most places it was less than that.

It preserved its crystal-like clearness at all times, and in all respects was a beautiful stream.
When they had advanced a hundred yards or so, the camp-fire which they had left behind them took on a strange and unnatural appearance.