Through the Tunnel

• “I want some swimming goggles,” he panted, defiant and beseeching.

• Again and again he rose, took a big chestful of air, and went down. Again and again he groped over the surface
of the rock, feeling it, almost hugging it in the desperate need to find the entrance. And then, once, while he was
clinging to the black wall, his knees came up and shot his feet out forward and they met no obstacle. He had found
the hole.

• He gained the surface, clambered about the stones that littered the barrier rock until he found a big one, and,
with this in his arms, let himself down over the side of the rock. He dropped, with the weight, straight to the sandy
floor. Clinging tight to the anchor of stone, he lay on his side and looked in under the dark shelf at the place where
his feet had gone.