“Maybe he went over here ahead of me, and got killed,” he thought; “but I don’t think that can be, for a wolf is a good deal spryer than a boy can be, and he wouldn’t have tumbled down as I did.”

Fred recollected that he had several matches about him, and he carefully struck one upon the rock beside him.  The tiny flame showed that he had stumbled into a rocky pit.  It was a dozen feet in length, some three or four in width, and, when he stood erect, his head was level with the surface of the ground above.  In consequence, it would be a very easy matter for him to climb out whenever he chose to do so; but above all things he was desirous of regaining his torch.  Just as the match between his fingers burned out, he caught sight of it, lying a short distance away.

“It’s queer what became of that wolf,” he said to himself, as he recovered the precious fagot and painfully climbed up out of the pit.  “Maybe he thought I was killed, and went off to tell the rest of his friends, so that they can all have a feast over me.  I must fire up the torch as soon as I can, for I’m likely to need it.”

This did not prove a very difficult matter, on account of the fatness of the torch, which ignited readily, and quickly spread into the same thick, smoking flame as before.  But Fred noted that it was about half burned up, and he could not expect it to hold out many hours longer, as it had already done good service.

“I wish I could see the wolf again,” he said to himself, looking longingly around in the darkness, “for I believe he entered the cave somewhere near here, and it was a great pity that I had the accident just at the moment I was about to learn all about it.”

He moved carefully about the cave, and soon found that he had reached the furtherest limit.  Less than twenty feet away it terminated, the jagged walls shutting down, and offering an impassable barrier to any further progress in that direction.

All that he could do, after completing his search, was to turn back in quest of his friend Mickey.  The belief that he was in the immediate neighborhood of the outlet delayed the lad’s return until he could assure himself that it was impossible to find that for which he was hunting, and which had been the means of his wandering so far away from camp.

Fred occupied fully an hour in the search.  Here and there he observed scratches upon the surface of the rocks in some places.  He was confident that they had been made by the feet of the wolves; but in spite of these encouraging signs, he was baffled in his main purpose, and how the visitor made his way in and out of the cave remained an impenetrable mystery.

“Too bad, too bad!” he muttered, with a great sigh.  “I shall have to give it up, after all.  I only wish Mickey was here to help me.  I will call to him, so that he will be sure to hear.”

As has been intimated in another place, the two friends had a code of signals understood by both.  When they were separated by quite a distance, and one wished to draw the other to him, he had a way of placing two of his fingers against his tongue, and emitting a shrill screech which might well be taken for the scream of a locomotive whistle, so loud and piercing was its character.