of those
mysterious underground rivers of which Mr. March had told them a few
nights before. That was at home, where he was surrounded by his own
loving parents and friends. Should he ever see them again? No; he was
buried alive.

Buried alive! he, Mark Elmer? No--it couldn't be. It must be a dreadful
dream, a nightmare; and he laughed hysterically to think how improbable
it would all seem when he awoke.

But he felt the cold water sweeping by him and knew it was no dream.
The reality stunned him, and he became incapable of thinking; he only
moaned and called out, incoherently, "Mother! father! Ruth!"

After a while he began to think again. He had got to die. Yes, there
was no escape for him. Here he must die a miserable death, and his body
would be swept on and on until it reached the Gulf and drifted out to
sea; for this running water must find its way to the sea somehow.

If he could only reach that sea alive! but of course that was
impossible. Was it? How far is the Gulf? And the poor boy tried to
collect his thoughts.

It couldn't be more than five miles in a straight line, nor, at the
most, more than three times as far by water. Perhaps there might be
more "sink holes" opening into this buried river. Oh, if he could only
reach one of them! He would then die in sight of the blessed stars, and
perhaps even live to see the dear sunlight once more.

These thoughts passed through his mind slowly, but they gave him a ray
of hope. He determined that he would make a brave fight with death, and
not give up, like a coward, without making even an effort to save
himself.

Thus thinking, he let go his hold of the projection to which he had
clung all this time, and allowed himself to be carried along with the
current. He found that he could touch bottom most of the time, though
every now and then he had to swim for greater or less distances, but he
was always carried swiftly onward. He tried to keep his hands extended
in front of him as much as possible, to protect himself from projecting
rocks, but several times his head and shoulders struck heavily against
them.

Once, for quite a distance, the roof was so low that there was barely
room for his head between it and the water. A few inches lower would
have drowned him, but it got higher again, and he went on.

Suddenly the air seemed purer and cooler, and the current was not so
strong. Mark looked up and saw a star--yes, actually a star--twinkling
down at him like