the routine checks revealed that the final sump could no longer take in any more water, had filled up and now the waters were starting to flood at a fast pace our own room number seven. Oh,oh! Another check-up a couple minutes later showed an extra raise in level of about two feet in about two minutes. Very alarming! At that rate, we would be swimming in about ten to fifteen minutes. We definitely had to move, and we better do it now, in a safe manner, without the pressures of panic.

Upon checking the incoming flood, we observed that it had gone down to about two by four feet of quite clear waters, which we thought we could handle or safely skeep. Even the noise was now down to that of a normal mountain stream, only that it was nighttime, and we would be going down a narrow canyon.

One volunteer, Gustavo, dared to jump across, landing on a ledge of the cave's wall, and after climbing up a bit and a thorough search with a beam-light the message was...yes, we could make it, at least some forty feet to another safe position, fifteen feet higher than our precarious present position.

All six of us ran as quickly as possible to our new home, but since we now were on a "moving spirit," someone suggested that we ought to send another scout still higher up the cave, to the next crawl to check how conditions were for a crossing into the next room (number five), where we had been digging. Soon Gustavo made his way back and reported that there was about five inches of air and about two feet of slow moving water. He made it far enough to see that our digging effort had totally vanished, with about a foot or so of water on the top, and that a waterfall was dropping into it, but this side, the climb-up side, was totally clear! After getting there at -180 feet, we would see what routes were safe and possible. We made it without problems, and along the way found my lost rope climbing gear, full and intact, someone else found his pack-sack, but empty, and still another found a glove and one kneepad. They were all salvaged.

We found out it wasn't at all convenient to remain at that depth, since if there was a new flood, we would be totally in the way, so Randall climbed straight up another fifteen feet, and from there saw that the best way out was, ironically the worst: the way the water was coming in! Only that right now, the level was fairly low and manageable, except for two or three cascades that were either avoidable or easy to handle. So again we moved, as fast as safety would allow, and at a depth of -160 feet we found the low end of the rope, our "road" up to freedom. We tested it, and it seemed in good and safe condition; agian I started up a seventy degree flowstone climb, with all the others following, regrouping at a very quite safe ledge at -130 feet, know as "Las Respresitas" (The Rimstone Dams), twelve feet below the bottom of "Pozo Esperanza,' the exit pit. From there we could see the rest of the rope, freely hanging, but laid right in the middle of a strong, sixty-five foot high waterfall. Going up right now was out of the question!... And yet another detail; no sight of Bryan! We shouted and shouted but silence was always the answer. Had he made it out somehow? Was he out of hearing range, or maybe unconscious? We all made a thourough search for him, coming up and noone had seen anything abnormal along the way,