whatever. It's a reg'lar dome over this pool o' water,
and unless there's some passage at the back, up yonder,
we're fast pris'ners."

Trot looked thoughtfully over her shoulder.

"When we're rested," she said, "we will crawl up
there and see if there's a way to get out."

Cap'n Bill reached in the pocket of his oilskin coat
and took out his pipe. It was still dry, for he kept it
in an oilskin pouch with his tobacco. His matches were
in a tight tin box, so in a few moments the old sailor
was smoking contentedly. Trot knew it helped him to
think when he was in any difficulty. Also, the pipe did
much to restore the old sailor's composure, after his
long ducking and his terrible fright -- a fright that
was more on Trot's account than his own.

The sand was dry where they sat, and soaked up the
water that dripped from their clothing. When Trot had
squeezed the wet out of her hair she began to feel much
like her old self again. By and by they got upon their
feet and crept up the incline to the scattered boulders
above. Some of these were of huge size, but by passing
between some and around others, they were able to reach
the extreme rear of the cavern.

"Yes," said Trot, with interest, "here's a round
hole."