Neville in particular—to whom the outing and the exploration was a new experience—felt, as he puffed at a cigar, the stirrings of a larger and a nobler nature than that which had hitherto exercised him. Business life seemed flat and stale compared with this al fresco existence.
"Time to be goin' back again," said the practical Sandy, breaking in on a post-prandial reverie. "Gimme the tommie, Joe."
Tomahawk in hand, the boy walked to the sapling clump, and selecting a stout specimen, vigorously attacked it with the weapon. From this he cut two six-foot lengths, sharpening the thicker ends, crowbar fashion.
"What's that for, Sandy?"
"To prise the boulder. They'll make capital levers."
Armed with these additional implements, the lads returned to the caves, and in due course lowered themselves into the cathedral.
The spot which Sandy had mentally marked as a likely one has already been described. It was a cleft in the floor at its junction with the wall, and immediately behind a huge stalagmite. It must have escaped the vigilant eyes of the professional trackers. The corner was a very dark one, and unless one looked closely behind the boulder the cleft would not be observed. Sandy had lit upon it in a promiscuous search, and was impressed by its possibilities as another outlet, or inlet, to other cavities.
No sooner had the boys arrived at the spot, and Sandy had cast his eye upon it, than he exclaimed, "Somebody's been here!"
"How d'yer know?"
"This stone is not in the same position as when I last saw it."