"That is true," said Rutler, "you appal me; happily, there is no likelihood of this. You have the sack?"
"Yes, colonel; the straps are strong and the skin impervious. We shall find our knives, our pistols and our cartridges in it as dry as though they came from an armory."
"Then, John, let us be starting; go ahead," said the colonel. "We must have time to dry our clothes."
"That will not take long, colonel; once at the foot of the precipice we shall be as in an oven; the sun shines full upon it."
John lay down on his face and commenced to glide into the passage, so small that he could scarcely enter. The darkness was profound; in the distance only, one could distinguish a faint light. The colonel followed, dragging himself over a damp and dirty soil.
For some time the two Englishmen advanced in this manner, crawling on their knees, on their hands, and on their stomachs, in total darkness. All at once John paused suddenly and cried in a frightened voice, "Colonel!"
"What is it?"
"Do you not notice a strong odor?"
"Yes, a fetid odor."
"Do not move; it is the serpent—'Fer de lance'—we are lost."