Soon they noticed that the ceiling of the tunnel was gradually becoming higher. They were able slowly to straighten their backs until finally they were standing upright for the first time since they had left the chamber.

Pitch struck another match, and this time they saw the waters of a very narrow but fast-flowing stream plunging directly across their path. They moved forward. The tunnel came to an end at a doorway leading to a high natural cut in the rocks through which the underground stream flowed. It came from their right, rushing past them and continuing downward. Along the stream a narrow path had been cut in the stone.

Turning to Pitch, Steve asked anxiously, “Shall we go down or up the stream?”

Pitch had bent down to the water and was tasting it. “Fresh water,” he announced.

Steve drank with him, then said, “I think we should follow the stream down, don’t you, Pitch? It has to lead somewhere.”

“I think we should, Steve.”

Striking another match, they walked cautiously along the stream. They had gone only a short distance when Steve said quickly, “I’d swear it’s getting lighter, Pitch. Don’t you notice it?”

“It doesn’t seem to be quite so dark,” Pitch agreed cautiously.

They struck another match and saw the gradual curve in the course of the stream. While the match burned they walked quickly forward and then slowed down as the light flickered and went out.

The burned match dropped from Pitch’s fingers as he grabbed hold of Steve’s arm. Ahead of them the blackness of the curving stream gave way to a dim gray light. They rushed forward, needing no burning match to guide their running feet. Rounding the curve, they came to an abrupt stop as they saw a large opening in the rocks through which came the light of late afternoon.

They stood there quietly, neither of them saying a word. And when they walked forward again their steps were unhurried as though each was experiencing an emotion he wanted to prolong. For they were walking from the fear of death into the light of the living.

The roar of the stream became louder but they did not hear it; their dazed eyes were focused upon the blue sky ahead. It wasn’t until they stood in the great opening in the yellow rock that they saw the water pouring in a silken sheet of white, crashing far down onto the rocks of a large pool two hundred feet or more below them. And stretched before their eyes, as far ahead as they could see, was a long valley within the yellow walls of Azul Island!

“A lost valley,” Pitch said unbelievingly. “A lost world!”