"I suppose ye are sorry for thet lioness, but I ain't," he said. "They are wicked critters, I can tell ye, an' they do a whole lot o' damage."
"I suppose they live according to their nature," replied Dave, softly. In his mind's eye he could still see the tawny lioness licking the face of her dead mate.
On they went again. The cave was narrow here but presently broadened out. The roof was, for the most part, less than ten feet high, so the boys felt just as if they were "walking between big pie crusts," as Roger quaintly expressed it. The cave seemed to be dry, although when they stopped once more to look around, they heard the distant gurgle of a stream of water.
"Wall, I can't see as it looks anythin' like a mine," announced Abe Blower, presently. "Nothin' like a shaft around here."
"I wonder how long the cave is?" came from Dave. "It must end somewhere."
"Say, wouldn't this make a good place to camp out in?" asked Roger, of the old miner.
"Not much!" was the quick answer.
"Why not? It would be cool in the daytime and warm at night, with a little campfire."
"Maybe, lad. But wot if some o' these rocks should shift? They'd squash ye as flat as a flapjack!"
"I didn't think of that."