When, however, the doctor stepped outside, and looked up towards the top of the stupendous precipice, he saw a brilliant flame that had all the appearance of a signal beacon.
“It doesn’t look like a forest fire,” he said to Kingsford, while they were examining it carefully through their field-glasses. “And now and then I almost fancy I can make out human forms passing in front of it.”
The others had the same impression, and Harry Lorien declared he could see flashes of light, as though the beings round the fire were dressed in clothes, or carried something, that reflected the firelight.
“Let us try burning a little powder,” the doctor suggested, “after the fashion Matava says was arranged between him and the others, but which they never carried out.”
So they sent Matava for the powder, and told him to fire it in the manner that had been settled between him and Monella. It is true none of the three messages agreed upon would be applicable to the present occasion—but that they could not help.
Presently, three tongues of flame leaped up into the air, then suddenly died out, leaving those around temporarily half-blinded by the glare. Then they stood for some time anxiously watching through their glasses.
What seemed a long interval ensued; when, suddenly, three brilliant gleams flashed out on Roraima’s height, in exact imitation, as to the intervals between the flashes, of the signals they had themselves made.
“Try another,” Doctor Lorien cried, in growing excitement. “Arrange the three differently this time.”
This was done, and the answering flashes came back, again in exact imitation; and this time with scarcely any delay.