He stood in the narrow den, hoping in his bitterness that death would free him from his torture, when the old woman suddenly clicked with her tongue angrily, then muttered to the wounded chief. He rose up, and she supported him to the hole, calling on the Gaika to help him through. She followed, and said a few words to Klaas, who, with a stifled exclamation, began tapping the sanded floor with the butt of his assegai.
“What are you doing?” demanded Webster.
“Wait, sieur;” and the tapping of the assegai continued. “This is the place;” and Klaas with his naked foot pushed the sand away, leaving bare a flat stone in the centre of the room. With the point of his assegai he prised up the stone and then started back, for there was a yawning pit disclosed, out of which came a rush of damp and sickly air.
“Where does that lead?” asked Webster.
“I don’t know, sieur. The old woman will say.”
She spoke rapidly, pointing with skinny forefinger at the pit, and turning her gleaming eyes from face to face.
“She says we must go down,” said Klaas; “but I am afraid.”
“Hark!” said Laura; “I hear voices.”
The old woman drew Umkomaas to the hole, then, seizing Laura by the arm, pulled her violently forward.
“What the deuce does the old witch mean?” growled Webster impatiently.