"I'm worse off than I was before, that is sure," he thought. "Maybe I won't
be able to get out of this mess before morning."

Feeling stronger after a while he arose and groped his way forward. He had
not taken a dozen steps before he came to some rocks. They arose
slantingly, and under them he found a dry spot, well sheltered from the
rain.

"This is a little better than the other place was," he mused. "But I'd like
to know just what sort of a hole this is, and what the prospect is of
getting out."

Like Barringford, the young pioneer carried a flint and tinder-box with
him, and under the rocks it was a comparatively easy matter for Henry to
strike a light. He found some dry leaves and twigs, blown hither by the
wind, and presently had a respectable fire started, over which he crouched
in an effort to drive away the chill which was stealing over him.

"This is a buffalo hunt with a vengeance," he muttered. "I was a fool to
start off after the animal in such a storm, and in the darkness. After
this, I'll do my hunting altogether in the daytime."

In a search for more firewood Henry presently came to an opening in the
rocks behind him. It was totally dry here and, taking up the best of the
firebrands, he moved to the new location. Soon he had a roaring fire, the
smoke going upward, to some hole overhead which he could not locate.

"This must be something of a cave," he mused. "Wonder where it can lead
to."