Mr. Home leaned over him. "Keep quiet," he said, "and I'll bring you some water."
Taking only his Ghoorka knife and his match-box, the Hunter went on to the Cave of Skulls. Luckily for the denizens of that ominous place, none of them were there to bar his entrance, for he was in a grim mood, so making a bonfire of some of the mats, he looked about. One calabash contained water, and this he carried back, together with something equally precious—a bunch of bananas that were black with smoke, yet fit to eat by any one who was very hungry or did not see them. The boy was sitting up waiting with burning eyes.
"You were so long," he muttered.
"But I won't go away again, old chap. I've brought you quite a feast."
Venning took a long drink, ate the bananas, and fell back on his pillow, while the Hunter resumed his seat to watch through another night. It seemed as if they were to be left in peace. Since that solitary, withered, and scared creature dived out of the cave they had seen no one. But still he sat on guard as the hours slipped slowly by, and then there came a surprising thing.
Just the tinkle made by a drop of water falling into a pool!
It came at regular intervals, incessant, musical, and he began to count it, wondering at the height it fell, and marvelling at the noise it made.
And then he leapt to his feet, and stood a moment in breathless amazement. A single drop of water to be heard above all that multitudinous clamour! What did it mean? It meant a silence so profound that from the black depth of the yawning cavity the tiny tinkle could reach him. It meant that the roaring torrent was stilled!