It was Sandy's turn to take part in the battle now. With a well-directed blow he brought his stick down full on the serpent's back. Instantly the creature seemed to tie itself up in an intricate knot, writhing and lashing in what proved its death agony, for a few seconds later it lay in a limp, inanimate heap at the lad's feet.
"Well done, Sandy," cried Jack, examining the dead reptile. "It's dead as a doornail."
"I wonder if it was a poisonous one?" pondered Sandy.
"I don't know. It looks deadly enough, and I'd hate to have been bitten by it," rejoined Jack, "but come on. Don't let's waste time here. We must push on in a hurry if we want to get out again before that lamp gives out."
"Yes, it's getting a wee bit feeble," agreed Sandy. "Hoots, mon, I hope it dinna give oot. If it does before we reach the open air we shall be——"
The sentence was not completed. At that instant the dreaded thing happened. Without any warning the wires in the tiny lamp began to glow red and then suddenly ceased to shine. The boys were plunged in total darkness, and, worse still, Jack's supply of matches was exhausted.
"What on earth shall we do?" he breathed, with something of a quiver in his voice.
In rejoinder Sandy felt for his comrade's hand and clasped it.
"Dinna lose heart, laddie," he said. "Remember the story o' MacPherson and keep up your courage."
Thus admonished, Jack steadied up his nerves, and the two lads began to grope through the darkness.