More stones were dragged out with the boat-hook, but only a lizard appeared afterwards; and as two more blocks were pulled forth light from above came down, showing that the opening was L-shaped, going about six feet in to where a chimney-like shaft rose at right angles, down which the light struck, evidently from the next terrace.
“I thought so,” said Briscoe. “Here: I’ll go in first.”
He crept into the hole at once, and found on looking up the shaft that Briscoe was quite correct, for there were foot-holes chiselled out at intervals in the chimney-like place, so that he could easily step up from one to the other, and the next minute his head was on a level with the floor above and his eyes gazing full in those of a venomous-looking serpent, which raised its head from the middle of its coil ready to strike.
Chapter Thirty Seven.
Briscoe’s Bit of Ore.
Brace obeyed the natural impulse to duck down out of the reptile’s reach, and his next idea was to lower himself the ten feet or so to the bottom; but he shrank from doing this, for it seemed ignominious to retreat, so he raised his head sharply again till his eyes were about level with the terrace platform, and there, a dozen feet away, was the tail part of the snake, disappearing in a fissure of the stone.
The next minute he was standing in front of one of the openings they had seen from the river, and his companions were climbing to his side.