“Quite right; but let’s see what’s here. Might be a jaguar or something of that kind. Aha, there! Rah-rah-rah-rah-rah!”
The cry ran echoing into the chasm far enough, and was followed by the sound as of a rushing wind approaching them. Directly after a cloud of largish birds, somewhat like the British nightjar in appearance, came swooping by, separating as soon as they were outside, and making for the forest patches across the canon.
“Do you know them?” said Briscoe, turning round to Brace.
“No: some kind of bird that goes to roost there, I suppose.”
“Yes; they roost and breed and live there,” said Briscoe. “They’re night-birds, and we’ve started them before their usual feeding-time. Those are the South American oil-birds.”
“Yes, I remember,” cried Brace. “They breed in the caves round Trinidad, I’ve read.”
“That’s right. Well, we don’t want to try whether they’re good to eat. This way, my lads,” he continued, as Dan and three of the men came up to make the fire and start cooking. “Make your kitchen right in here.”
This was done, and soon after, as the night fell, the interior of the cave glowed brightly, showing something of its dimensions, and that it extended far into the mountain.
The question was discussed whether it would not be wise to make it their resting-place for the night, affording as it did a roomy shelter such as would make a very welcome change for people who had been cramped up so long in the narrow dimensions of the boats.
But the captain objected, wisely enough, to leaving his boats entirely unguarded, so a compromise was come to, and it was decided that half of each boat’s party were to remain below, while the others took possession of the cavern.