He leaned a little on one side, thrust in the stick, and gave it a sharp rattle round in different directions, when to his horror there was a rush which nearly made him loosen his hold before he realised what had happened. But fortunately he held on, and in an instant the alarm and danger had passed away. For the occupants he had disturbed proved to be some half-dozen huge bats, which fluttered out, squealing, and made for the opposite side of the depression.
“Phew! How they smell! Cockroachy,” cried Chris. “I say, father, there are not likely to be snakes here now.”
“No,” said the doctor. “If there were I should not think that you would have found the bats. But be careful.”
Chris said nothing, but climbed right into the hole.
“Here, come on, Ned,” he cried; “this isn’t a hole made by some stone falling over; it’s quite a little chamber, with—What’s that?” he added—“A chimney?”
A minute’s investigation proved that it was no chimney that had taken his attention, but a sloping shaft with plenty of room for a man to pass upward, and the way made easy by projecting stones.
“You are not going in there?” said Ned anxiously, as he stood close behind.
“But I am. Come and look. You can see daylight. Why, Ned, it’s the way up to the first terrace. Come on.”
Chris stepped in, and with his curiosity aroused, Ned followed, just as Bourne’s voice came from below, with the question—
“What are you boys doing? Mind how you climb above that hole. You had better get a little to the right.”