“Here, hoy! Will Marion! ahoy!” shouted Josh, who was kneeling down at the edge of the shaft, his face drawn with horror and strangely mottled, as he stared down into the pit. For, without warning, Will had freed himself from the rope, the tension upon which was gone; and as Josh drew a few feet up, and let the line run down again, his eyes seemed starting from his head, and he listened for the awful splash he expected to hear.
He listened for quite a minute, and then rousing himself from his half cataleptic state, he uttered a stentorian hail.
“Right, Josh, right!” shouted Will. “I’ve found it at last.”
“He’s found it at last!” growled Josh, wiping his wet brow. “Why, he must have got to the bottom then. Are you all right?”
“All right!” came back faintly; and Josh gave his hands a rub, his arms a stretch, and then leaving the rope, he seated himself on the stones, thrust his hands into his pockets, and out of one he drew forth a heavy clasp-knife, from the other a steel tobacco-box, which he opened, took out some roll tobacco, and proceeded to cut himself off a piece to chew.
As he was thus occupied a strange, sharp, rustling noise fell upon his ear, and then stopped.
He listened, and looked round, but saw nothing.
“Can’t be snakes up here!” he muttered, and then he became all alert once more, for there was a noise from below, as of a small stone having fallen.
“What’s he doing of now?” growled Josh. “Here, I wish I hadn’t come. Eh! What!”
Just at the same time, after carefully groping his way for a very short distance along the gallery, Will was warned by his expiring candle to return to the mouth, which he reached just in time to hear a curious whistling sound and then a long-drawn splash.