“What are you looking for?” said one of the troopers from the top. “There’s no one here.”
“Water,” said the Sergeant gruffly.
“Then you’ll have to wait till it rains,” said the sentry.
“Humph! we shall see about that,” said Denham in a low tone, intended for my ears only; and we climbed on over a heap of débris, at the top of which we had a good view outward to where one of the Boer parties had dismounted and were resting their horses before retiring or making another attack.
Upon descending the farther side of the heap of broken stones, there was a continuation of the open passage, always about six feet wide, but winding probably in following the course of the rock upon which the place was built, so that we could not at any time look far along the passage.
“This doesn’t seem like the way to find water,” said Denham.
“One never knows,” I said. “Let’s see where the passage leads to.”
“Of course; but it seems waste of time. The old city, or temple, or whatever it was, must have been built with two walls for security, and I dare say once upon a time it was covered in so as to form a broad rampart.”
“Right!” I said eagerly, and pointed forward. For we had just come in sight, at a bend, of a spot where great stones were laid across from wall to wall; and on passing under them we found our way encumbered beyond by numbers of similar blocks, some of which seemed to have crumbled away in the middle till they broke in two and then dropped.
“Oh yes,” said Denham, in reply to a remark, “it’s very interesting, of course, but we’re not ruin-grubbers. I dare say the place was built in the year 1; and the knowing old codgers who understand these things would tell us that the people who built the place had dolly something, or square heads; but we want to find out which was the market-place where they kept the town-pump.”