But there was little time for talking. Work was the order of the day, and so clever were the contrivances for hoisting, and so well did the men work, that by sundown all the light things were under cover in the chasm, and only the guns, barrels, and heavy cases down by the natural pier. These latter were covered in turn, and made fast with pieces of rock piled upon the edge of the tarpaulins, after which the men of the barge embarked and went back to the ship, the crew of the second cutter following, and the garrison being gathered in their new quarters, high up in the cleft of the great rock, for a hearty meal, to which Sydney came down from the bare fork of the cleft, ravenously hungry, and at once fell to.
He was partaking of his portion with eager zest, when Roylance, who had been busy below seeing to the covering of the barrels, came up.
“Why, Belt,” he said, in a whisper; “not gone back?”
“No,” said Syd, laconically.
“But I thought you’d gone back in the second cutter.”
“No,” said Syd, with his mouth full; “I did mean to, but I’ve been exploring, and when I came back the boat was gone.”
“What are you doing here?” said a sharp voice.
“Eating,” said Syd, without looking up.
“Don’t be insolent, sir. I am one of the officers of this expedition, and on duty. You have no business here.”
“Look here, Terry,” said Syd, eating away in the most nonchalant fashion; “I’m hungry, and don’t want to leave off and spoil my dinner. I don’t want to quarrel to-night.”