Danger and disappointment had made me now cautious, and I would not proceed until, by the expenditure of more powder, we had made sure that there was no other passage; alarming the birds too, so that they swept round us like a hurricane.
“Right this time, Mas’r Harry,” cried Tom.
Then we were once more on the way, crawling as to pace, as we felt our way cautiously along.
“If it ever fell out, Mas’r Harry, that we wanted a hiding-place, what a spot this would be!” said Tom, little thinking that the day was to come when it should prove the salvation of those who were our truest and best friends. “Why, I don’t believe there’s an Indian ever had the pluck to come a quarter as far, and we know it now well, every foot of it.”
“Except the way out, Tom,” I said sadly.
“Oh, that’s right enough now, Mas’r Harry,” he cried. “Cheer up: here’s the birds flying along by the score. Can’t you hear their wings whistle? They’re some of those we frightened out coming back again.”
I could hear the soft flap of wings plainly enough, and I could not help feeling hopeful as we toiled on, till suddenly Tom exclaimed:
“Keep back!”
“What is it?” I exclaimed, our voices echoing in a way which told us that the cave had once more opened out.
“My leg goes down as far as I can reach here, Mas’r Harry. There’s a hole of some kind. Stop till I flash off a bit of powder.”