“It’s your own fault that you’re here, anyhow,” snapped Tom irritably.
“True enough,” admitted Dick, “I didn’t mean to complain. I can face anything we’ve got to go through as an American should. At least, I hope so.”
Conversation languished after this. They sat leaning against the walls of the place, each busied with his own thoughts. But the undaunted professor was busy examining the walls. In his scientific ardor in gazing at the many queer scrawlings with which they were covered, he appeared to have forgotten everything. Suddenly he gave utterance to a sharp exclamation.
“Himmel! Vos is dis?”
And then the next minute his voice rang out sharply, trembling with suppressed excitement:
“Chentlemen! Look! I haf foundt idt!”
For one joyous instant they thought that he had discovered a way of escape. But they soon saw that it was one of the wall carvings that had attracted his attention and caused his outburst.
“What is it? Nothing but a hunting scene, ain’t it?” asked the captain, who was nearest to the excitable German.
“Precious badly done, too,” he added. “I know kids at home in Maine, eleven-year-old kids, that could do better than that.”
“Ach! Dot is nodt idt!” exclaimed the professor impatiently. “Idt is nodt a vurk of arts dot I know. Budt idt iss something bedder—idt iss a picture of der hunting of der Megatherium!”