I longed to keep the candle burning, but what Shock said seemed to be right; so I put it out, and as I did so I saw the boy begin to scratch away as hard as he could at the sand in the direction of the entrance, and then in the dark I could hear him panting away like some wild animal.
“I say,” he cried at last.
“Yes,” I said.
“It don’t seem no good. More you pulls it away, more it comes down. It’s like dry water, and runs all through your hands.”
“Let me have a try,” I said.
“All right. You go where I did, and keep straight on.”
Keep straight on! It was, as he said, like grasping at water; and the more I tore at it, in the hope of making a tunnel through, the more it came pouring down, till in utter despair I gave it up and told Shock it was no good.
“Never mind,” he said. “It’s dry and warm. I’ve been in worse places than this is, where you couldn’t keep the rain out. Let’s sit down and talk. I say I wish I’d got the rest o’ my rabbud.”
I didn’t answer, for, hot, weary, and despairing at our position, I was lying down on the sand with my hands covering my face.
I don’t know how long a time passed, for I felt confused and strange; but I was aroused by Shock, who exclaimed suddenly: