“Well, sir, I don’t know as I should,” replied the big driver. “I think I should like to have a light, in case there was any holes that one might go down; but I am like Bob Bacon here, who tells me that he watches for poachers when he’s at home, and Dan, who has been used to keep watch at sea; we shouldn’t stop from going into the dark for fear of the bogeys that would scare the niggers. Mean ter to go on, sir?”
“Can we get a light if we want it?”
“I have got matches, sir, and Bob Bacon here, sir, has got a bit of old dead sort of fir wood as will burn well enough.”
“What do you say, boys?”
“Let’s go on,” they cried eagerly.
The doctor looked back, and for a moment or two he could make out no sign of the two blacks. Then from close to the ground a long way back the sun shone upon a couple of dancing feathers, and some three feet above them appeared the black head of their guide.
“They are watching us,” said the doctor. “No: they are gone. Come along, then.” And the party passed on, with the sides of the ravine closing in till the way grew half dark, and as far as they could make out they were at the mouth of a good-sized cavern.
Here they stopped short, and the doctor held up his hand.
“What is it?” whispered Mark.
“It may be fancy,” replied the doctor, “but I fancied I heard a faint rustling.”