“I say,” he cried, “it’s hardly fair for us if you get chivvying those rattlers and sending them flying over the edge and down here.”
“Oh, you must take your chance about that,” said Chris merrily.
“Be careful, my boy,” said the doctor.
“What, about the rattlers, father?”
“Of course; but I meant where you place your feet. Many of the stones are rotten and loose.”
“We’ll mind,” said Chris, and he began to climb, raising himself a step or two, and then striking sharply in amongst some growing plants, before thrusting his staff up in front of him and drawing himself up again.
This he kept on repeating, and without much difficulty climbed some thirty feet, before an awkward place came like a check, caused by a big stone having fallen, leaving a good-sized cavity.
“Look out now, Ned,” he said softly. “Here’s a hole that may hold one.”
“All right,” was the reply, and as Chris planted his feet firmly, one in a hole and the other on a projecting stone, Wilton uttered a warning word or two, which the boys were too busy to heed.
“It’s a bigger place than I thought,” said Chris, taking fast hold of a stone with his left hand and advancing his tufted staff with his right, as he stood well upright, bringing his head above the edge of the hole. “It was built-up once, for the stones were square, and it goes in quite deep. Now, then, look out for a big one.”