“Thought it was a monkey,” put in Billy.
“Well, I guess I’m more monkey than man at that,” sighed Ben Stubbs, “living the way I’ve done, trapping and stalking my food and clothes from the animals in the wood yonder—but, tell me, how did you fellows ever get up here if that was your camp I seen?”
Rapidly they told him of their discovery of the tunnel and it was the ex-sailor’s turn to sit back and look astonished.
“But how did you cross that ’ere hole in the ground?” he demanded, “Long ago, when me and my mates was first stranded on this ’ere island, as you might call it, we tried to get out that way—yes, an’ we tried other tunnels, too, but we couldn’t find no way of doin’ it. If we’d known about the sarpints, I’ll bet you we wouldn’t have tried.”
Frank told him about the chain and about the impossibility of reaching it.
The sailor’s rugged, bearded face took on an interested air.
“You say you left it dangling thar?” he demanded.
“That’s about it,” replied Frank. “We could reach it with a long hook or branch, but how are we to overcome the difficulty of the white serpents? It means death to try to get across that chasm, now that they have been aroused from their long sleep.”
To the boys’ amazement Ben Stubbs winked sententiously. He said not a word, but rising to his feet, led the boys up the cliff to a small cave. In it were several kegs.
“Read that,” commanded the ex-sailor pointing to the stenciled lettering on them. Bending down the boys read: