It was a strange and a weird journey, but we went on hour after hour, and nothing molested us. About midnight we halted to let the beasts graze for half an hour in a grassy vale, while we did what Tom called the same; our pasture being cake, and our drink spirit and water.
Refreshed by our short halt, we again journeyed, and from time to time, after giving Tom the bridle of my mule, I stayed back to listen and try to discover whether we were followed; but, save the cry of some beast, there was nothing to be heard.
About two hours after midnight we struck the little stream, and soon after were well in the ravine, when, for the purpose of exercising greater caution, and, as Tom said, running the risk of being stung, we each took the bridle of our mule over one arm and went down on all fours, crawling forward; and so slow was our progress that, were we watched and a glimpse of us obtained, I felt certain that we must be taken for a little herd slowly grazing towards the mouth of the great cavern.
We reached the rocky pass at last, and then, muffling the feet of the mules with the coffee-bags, we took them cautiously on—the intelligent beasts clambering carefully and with hardly a sound—when we led them right in for some distance, gave them the maize we had brought, and then sat down in the darkness listening to their crunching of the grain and the loud cries of the guacharo birds as they flew in and out, fortifying ourselves the while with a hearty meal—Tom foregoing his pipe for reasons of cautious tendency.
According to my calculations the day would break in about an hour’s time; and during that hour, but always on the alert, we stretched ourselves upon the sand to rest, listening to every sound; for there was the possibility, we knew, of there being enemies, biped or quadruped, within a few yards of where we rested.
Towards daybreak it turned intensely cold—colder than I could have imagined possible in a tropic land; but we were prepared to bear cold as well as danger, for a fire would, of course, have been inviting observation.
Day at last; with a glorious flush of light reaching down the valley, and making the stalactites on the roof to glisten. But our ideas now were bent on the object we had in view, and nature’s magnificence was unnoticed.
As soon as the light had penetrated sufficiently, we led the mules farther in, and secured them in the broad passage, so that they could reach the water of the stream; our next step being to creep cautiously to the rocky barrier, and, well sheltering ourselves, to watch long and carefully for some sign of spies.
We did so for a full hour, but the silence of the place was even awful. Then the grey dawn brightened into the sweet fresh morning, with the heavy dew glistening in the sunshine as it dripped from the great tropic leaves—otherwise all was still; and convinced at length that those who had hitherto dogged our steps had for this time been eluded, I made a sign to Tom; and going in about fifty yards, we seized our spades and began to throw the light soil and sand into the bed of the little stream, shovelful after shovelful, so as to form a dam, which was at first washed down nearly as fast as we piled it up; but at last our efforts were successful, and the dammed-up water began to flow aside, cutting for itself a new channel through the sand, and making its exit a few feet nearer the rocky barrier, but taking up its former course on the other side.
We rested then for a few minutes, faint and hot; but the excitement of the quest took from us the sense of fatigue, for the water had all drained away from the bed of the stream, and the little pool close under the rocky barrier now presented the appearance of a depression whose bottom was covered with a beautifully clean sand.