Jimmy turned, and dimly saw his comrade still apparently stooping over one of the logs.
"Have I got to come back and bring you?" he shouted.
Brooke stood up, and a faint sparkling broke out at his feet. "Go on," he said. "It's burning now."
Jimmy said nothing further. Those fuses were short, and he was anxious to be clear of the gully. Still, even though he decided to sacrifice the axe, it was not an easy matter to ascend the almost precipitous slope of slippery rock, and as he climbed higher the glare of the fire in his eyes confused him. He had, however, almost reached the top when there was a crash and a rattle of stones below him, and he twisted himself partly round, while a hoarse shout rang out.
"Get hold of him!" cried one of the men. "Oh, jump for it. He'll be over the ledge!"
For a moment Jimmy had a glimpse of a wet, white face, and a hand, apparently clinging to a cranny, and then the flicker of firelight sank and left him in black darkness. He did not understand exactly what had taken place, but it was unpleasantly evident that the fuses would soon reach the powder, while his comrade, whom he could no longer see, was apparently unable to ascend the gully.
"Can't you get him?" shouted somebody.
"Jump down. Put the fuses out!" said another man.
Jimmy was, fortunately, one of the slow men who usually keep their heads, and while he glanced down at the twinkling fuses in the dark pit beneath him, he swung up a warning hand.
"Light right out of that, boys. It can't be done," he said. "Hold on, partner. Let me know where you are—I'm coming along."