“Can we make a raft strong enough to bear us?” asked Desmond. Alan shook his head. “I’ve already investigated,” he said. “There is absolutely nothing. The wood in there is rotten with age. I doubt whether it would even float. There is only one possible way,” and he looked at them intently. “We can all swim pretty well. Our only hope is to throw ourselves on the mercy of the waters. The knowledge we have of swimming will enable us to keep our heads out of the water—we must trust the current to do the rest. It may mean death—but are we not in a living death already? At any rate are you willing to try?” They walked into the big cave and Desmond looked fearfully at the terrible ascent which they would have to make in order to reach the river, for it flowed on a much higher level than that on which they were themselves. “Yes, it’s pretty stiff,” said Alan grimly. “But it’s that or nothing. Are you ready to risk it?” For a moment only, Desmond hesitated, then his mind was made up and his hand gripped that of his cousin. “Yes,” said he. “What about you, Jez-Riah?” And they were both surprised at the calm way in which she took the suggestion. “It is very high,” said she. “How easy it would be to fall!” They rested and slept and ate before they attempted the ascent. Also they had many preparations to make. There was certain of the jewels to be taken with them—the papyrus and the censer. Jez-Riah plaited a waterproof case for the parchment, and with a plaited rope fastened it to Alan’s shoulders. The jewels were divided out between them and placed in little bags that Jez-Riah wove from the root tendrils that grew outside the large cave. The censer proved the greatest difficulty. It was not only heavy, but exceedingly bulky and cumbersome. It was Alan again who decided to carry it. “But it will drag you down,” objected his cousin. “I’ll manage it,” he replied, and he had it fastened securely to his back with the strong rope that Jez-Riah could make so quickly. So they began their arduous climb. Alan went first, followed by Jez-Riah, and Desmond brought up the rear. “On no account look down,” Alan kept urging. “It will be fatal if you do.” At last they reached the tiny platform. Alan looked at it doubtfully. Would it hold three grown persons? He shivered—it would be a tight squeeze. His hand went down and met Jez-Riah’s. He pulled her on to their resting place in safety, and then Desmond reached it, and for a while they sat in silence. The rushing of the waters could be plainly heard. Time was passing—Alan dared not move, for Jez-Riah, worn out with the climb, was leaning heavily against him, and he knew that the slightest movement from one or the other of them might send them to their death, for the seat was none too safe. “I think the time has come for action,” said he quietly at last. “It is useless to wait here any longer.” Jez-Riah moved restlessly. “What your will is, O Ar-lane, that will I do,” said she.