“This” proved to be a great piece of soft, crumbling touchwood, which felt as if it had been torn from some dry, rotting gum tree; and directly after nick—nick—nick came the sound of a flint against a steel: tiny bright scintillations glistened in the black darkness, and soon there was a faint glow as the convict began to blow one spark which had fallen upon the wood Nic held. Then the spark grew brighter and brighter, and at last shed a faint luminous glow sufficient to make darkness visible; and this was increased by the convict taking the piece of wood and waving it softly to and fro.
“A poor light,” he said, “but it takes off the worst part of the gloom, and it is comforting. I have not begun making myself candles yet, Nic.”
“What’s that?” whispered the boy, as there was a peculiar fluttering noise and something swept his cheek softly.
“Only bats. There are plenty here. Don’t you smell them?”
“Yes, there is a black-beetly smell; but I thought it was the wood. Are there any—any dangerous beasts down here?”
“There are no dangerous beasts in this country,” said the convict, “except poisonous snakes and the crocodiles in the rivers, and I have never seen one of them. No, Nic, there is nothing to fear here but flood after a storm. Now, come along; step out boldly. It is nervous work the first time. I felt a bit scared when I explored it. I could walk through now in the darkness with my hands in my pockets. One only has to let one’s feet follow the water.”
“But if you did not follow the water?”
“Then you might wander away into one of the side passages, or go down some wide rift and lose your way.”
“Is it so big, then?”
“Farther on. There it opens out into huge caverns, and rises up into great cracks and chambers caused by the petrifying stony water. There are sheets and columns and hummocks of stone all made by the drip from above. This place has all been formed by the water eating away the limestone rock, dissolving it here and piling it up there.”