Vince promised, and sat there very thoughtful, as he gazed down at the hacked-away brambles.
“Let’s put these away or throw them down,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because if Old Daygo came along here, he’d see that some one had found a way down into the Scraw.”
“Daygo! What nonsense! I don’t believe he ever was along here in his life.”
“Perhaps not; but he may come now, if he sees us spying about. I’m sure he watches us.”
“And I’m sure you’ve got a lot of nonsense in your nut about the old chap. Now then, shall we go?”
“Yes; I’m willing. Think we can find it again?”
“Easily,” said Mike. “Look up yonder: we can take those two pieces of rock up on the ridge for our bearings. They stand as two ends of the base A B, as Mr Deane would say, and if you draw lines from them they will meet here at this point, C. This hole’s C, and we can’t mistake it.”
“No. But look here: this is better still. Look at that bit of a crag split like a bishop’s mitre.”