“Nay, sir; let’s have him out into the light.”
Before any protest or fresh order could be given the big driver thrust out a hand and gripped the grey-looking object which had crawled apparently right to the end of the cavernous hole. There was a faint struggle, and a low guttural cry.
“There’s no bite in him, sir,” cried Buck. “I don’t believe he’s got a tooth in his head. Now then, old ’un; out you come!”
By this time Buck had got hold of a long, thin, hairy arm, and overcoming a slight resistance and scuffling, began to walk backwards, dragging his prisoner after him, his companions making way, a low whining noise escaping from the prisoner the while.
“Gently, Bob Bacon,” cried Buck. “My hair’s quite short enough. No singeing, please. You might have seen that I got Dunn Brown to operate upon me with those scissors of his.”
“Here, let me come by you, Mark,” cried the doctor, excitedly.
“No, sir; I wouldn’t, sir,” cried Bob Bacon. “I have only just got room to hold the light up as it is, and Buck Denham’s so precious particular.”
“Yes,” said Buck, “and I want to get my catch out. You back with the light, Bob; and make a little room, gen’lemen. It’s all right. We don’t want any light now to show as this is one of them baboons—a long one, ’most as big as me.”
All backed away now, leaving room for Buck, who dragged his captive along the windings of the dark cavern, commenting upon his appearance the while.
“Yes, gen’lemen, I want to get him out and show black Mak the sperrit as he is afraid of. Rum beggars, these natives are, ready enough to fight and spear anybody. Got as much pluck as we have; but they are just like kids in being frightened about ghosts and by stories told by old women. Now then, it’s no use to kick. Poor old chap! Here, I could tuck him under my arm and carry him, only he may as well walk. He is just like a skin bag of bones. Hallo, you, Bob Bacon, who told you to put a ’stinguisher on that light?” For a sudden darkness came upon them all.