Straining his ears, he thought he detected a peculiar scraping noise near the source of the first sound. Then it ceased, and, except for the noise of his own quick breathing and the pounding of his heart, all was still, and black, and gruesome.
After listening in vain for a repetition of the noise, Ed started to crawl slowly forward again. Instantly the indistinct, phantom-like voice halted him. He shuddered and sank back against the rocks. The sound subsided, and was followed by the same peculiar scraping.
He was wholly at a loss to account for it. He was certain of one thing, however, and that was that whatever made it must have just entered the cavern. He felt positive that, had there been any living thing in the cave at the time he entered, he would have seen it when his candle was lighted.
Again he reasoned that if something had just come in it must have come through the passageway, which must be, therefore, on the opposite side from him. He determined to crawl toward it and defend himself with his rifle if necessary. Anything was preferable to remaining imprisoned in this dungeon with its silent white inhabitants.
The sound was repeated more distinctly, and Ed started for it. All at once a weird, reddish glow shone forth. Involuntarily he drew back, for the light seemed ghostly and unreal.
“Ed! Oh, Ed!” came the muffled call, and he at once recognized the alarmed voice of his friend.
He uttered a cry of joy that made the cavern ring, and crawled rapidly toward the light, which he knew came from George’s candle.
“What on earth are you doing in here, and what sort of a place is it?” demanded George, when he had finally emerged from the passage.
“Wait! Put your candle right in the entrance,” urged Ed, anxiously. “I’ve been searching for that place for several hours. My, but I’m glad to see you! But say, let’s get out of here.”
“Why, what’s the matter? Now that I’m in I want to see what it’s like. Isn’t it a queer—What’s that?” shouted George, in an alarmed tone, when he spied one of the white forms.