"I believe I saw one o' them 'possum robes in the pit, aside the hanging rock," said Emu Bill, reflectively. "I'll go an' get it in a jiff."
He disappeared into the recess immediately, and Bob heard him feeling his way back towards the old entrance, muttering and grumbling against the awkward nature of the dismal, muddy track at each floundering step. Then for a brief space all was still.
"A bit o' charcoal rubbed over the face an' neck will make us more nigger-like, I'm thinkin'," laughed Mackay, as he surveyed himself with rueful gaze.
It was no sooner said than done. Jack rushed over to the smouldering fire, and came back with a handful of charred embers, and with these they smeared their faces and hands plentifully.
"An' I reckon we won't want our boots," grunted the Shadow, discarding his almost soleless shoes, and rolling up the legs of his much-frayed nether garments.
"That's right, Shadow," said Mackay; "you make a grand nigger, an' I only hope I don't mistake you in the dark for a real warrior, an' slaughter you in error."
Bob and Jack, when they had finished their toilet, looked their part to the life; but when Mackay's towering bulk was arrayed and besplatched to his satisfaction, he seemed the most fearsome object imaginable, a formidable-looking savage indeed.
"Now I wonder what's keeping Bill?" broke out Jack, impatiently. "This rock here is burning my feet terribly."
"He'll be tryin' to wrench off that bit o' gold from the big stone," remarked the Shadow, with assurance. "I reckon I'll go down an' help him."