‘What have you found?’ This from the boat.
‘Nothing in the way of a man. But a broken branch and a sloppy mess all around.’
‘Hold on till we pull under. If he’s in there, we’ll soon have him out.’
‘Mind you don’t get your head blown off.’
This very probable consequence to the first man who should put his head into the mouth of the hole caused a corresponding diminution of enthusiasm, and low mutterings arose from the boat.
‘Private Storks, stand up in the boat and flash the lantern into that hole.—You above there, throw the light down as far as possible, and be ready.’
Great alacrity on the part of those on the bank. Considerable hanging fire on the side of Private Storks.
‘Now then, Storks, look sharp. You ‘re not afraid, are you?’
A muttered disclaimer from the reluctant Storks.
‘Private Flemming,’ in a very angry voice, ‘lift up that lantern and show this fellow Storks what a man is made of.’