“Place too much big hot,” he said. “Chokum-chokum like um wallaby. Go up.”
He caught hold of the doctor’s scarf of light network, a contrivance which did duty for bag, hammock, or rope in turn, and the wearer rapidly twisted it from about his waist.
“Now, Mas’ Jack Penny, tan’ here,” he cried; and Jack was placed just beneath the hole.
Jack Penny understood what was required of him, and placing his hands against the edge of the rift he stood firm, while Jimmy took the end of the doctor’s scarf in his teeth and proceeded to turn him into a ladder, by whose means he might get well into the chimney-like rift, climb up, and then lower down the scarf-rope to help the rest.
As I expected, the moment Jimmy caught Jack Penny’s shoulders and placed one foot upon him my companion doubled up like a jointed rule, and Jimmy and he rolled upon the floor of the cave.
At any other time we should have roared with laughter at Jimmy’s disgust and angry torrent of words, but it was no time for mirth, and the doctor took Jack Penny’s place as the latter drawled out:
“I couldn’t help it; my back’s so weak. I begin to wish I hadn’t come.”
“Dat’s fine,” grunted Jimmy, who climbed rapidly up, standing on the doctor’s shoulders, making no scruple about planting a foot upon his head, and then we knew by his grunting and choking sounds that he was forcing his way up.
The moment he had ceased to be of use the doctor stood aside, and it was as well, for first a few small stones fell, then there was a crash, and I felt that Jimmy had come down, but it only proved to be a mass of loose stone, which was followed by two or three more pieces of earth and rock.
Next came a tearing sound as of bushes being broken and dragged away, and to our delight the smoke seemed to rush up the rift with so great a current of air that fresh breath of life came to us from the mouth of the cave, and with it hope.