ll of the drippings.

The rocky shore of the underground lake receded rapidly. Rick stopped
rowing and turned, switching the infrared light toward the direction in
which he was heading. He could see the opposite shore now, but dimly.
Knowing that the infrared light was effective at eight hundred yards, he
estimated the lake to be about twelve hundred yards wide. That was over
three-fifths of a mile.

When he shot the light up and down the lake, he saw nothing but the
black water. That meant the lake was more than sixteen hundred yards
long. He turned the light upward and surveyed the ceiling. It was
irregular, varying in height from a dozen feet to over two hundred. In
one place, the ceiling came down to within a few feet of the black
water.

It was an eerie place. Rick's quick imagination turned him into the
mythical Charon, who ferried the dead across the River Styx into Hades.
He grinned mirthlessly. The limp figure of the Tibetan gave substance to
the picture.

He bent over the man, reaching for his wrist. The pulse was weak but
steady. He had given the Tibetan a healthy belt. There was no sign of
returning consciousness. But Rick wasn't worried. If he had hurt the man
badly, the pulse would have been thready and unsteady. He would wake up
presently, and his head would feel like a pillow stuffed with rocks, but
otherwise he would be all right. Rick knew. He had been knocked out
himself a couple of times.

He resumed rowing, and his steady strokes brought him closer to the
opposite shore. He turned to examine it and saw that a rocky ledge rose
gradually out of the water. In a short time he felt the boat grind
against the limestone.

He got out and pulled the craft up on the shore, which was worn smooth
by the water. The ledge varied from ten to fifty feet in width. Beyond
it, the roof of the cavern came down sharply to form a curving wall
broken in countless places. He could see into the broken places nearest
him. They were the beginnings of more cave labyrinths.

Now that he had reached the opposite shore, what was he to do? Again he
leaned over the Tibetan. The man showed no signs of returning
consciousness.

Rick cast his invisible light up and down the shore. Nothing indicated
that humans ever had been there before him. He realized that the wisest
thing would be to wait until his guide returned to consciousness and
then force him to lead the way once more. But he was impatient.
Somewhere along the shor