“Excellent,” returned Mervyn; “but I am afraid they would not take kindly to the climate of the upper world. The sunlight would shrivel them up directly.”
“No chance to float a company, you see, Silas,” said the baronet laughing, “were you thinking of starting a ‘Luminous Fungi Supply Syndicate’?”
“Wal, scarcely,” the Yankee returned; “I guess a mushroom business ain’t exactly in my line. Say, I wonder if we’re goin’ to knock up against any of Nordhu’s crowd this trip? I reckon it ’ud be kinder awkward if they jumped us in the jungle there.”
“We’ll give ’em a stiff fight for their money if they do,” rejoined Seymour, his fingers tightening upon the haft of his spear as he spoke.
“I guess I’d feel considerable more comfortable with a gun in my pocket,” resumed Silas. “Tooth-picks like these yer are all right in their way, but when it comes to a scrap, give me a barker. There’s a sorter tonic in the feel of a shootin’ iron. Makes you feel real good!”
“What an old fire-eater you are, Silas!” laughed Wilson; “I believe you’re spoiling for a fight now.”
“I guess not, sonny,” was the reply. “Your Uncle Sile as had enough scrappin’ to last him for a considerable period. Say, Mervyn, this yer picnic of yours has panned out rich in the way of trouble. If we’d a gone lookin’ for that same commodity we couldn’t ha’ struck a bigger pile, an’ I calculate we ain’t through yet, not by a hull heap.”
“That we’re not,” agreed the baronet, “and it strikes me we shall have the very old lad of a job to find the Seal again. If we had but a few rounds of ammunition apiece I should not care for all the wolf-men in the underworld, but without it we are no better armed than the savages themselves. Still, we’ve got to see this job through. Garth must be found in spite of Nordhu’s savages.”
“That’s so,” replied Haverly. “As I figure it out, the sooner we strike Garth’s trail—after we’re through with the present deal—the better for him an’ us. This yer old underworld ain’t so dusty, but I guess I prefer the daylight. It’s kinder more natural-like. Down here you never know when to go to bed, and I’m blamed if you know what time you’re getting up. Why, it might be midnight at the present period, for all we know—midnight, pards, an’ we a-waltzin’ around here ’stead of bein’ tucked away snug in our little beds. I guess we’ll be developin’ inter real giddy young night-howlers if we have to hang out long in this yer location. Say, William, I reckon it’s about time we were progressin’ some. If you’ll kinder intimate the same to our big pard, we’ll get a move on.”
A few moments later the party plunged in amid the fungi, the great elk trampling a broad passage which made progress easy for the three on foot.