There was darkness and furtive movement ahead. There was the nervous oppression one feels in deep caverns. There was silence and shadowy impressions of movements as soundless and nerve-wracking as the silence.
Tiny pressed a hand radilume into Wilding's fingers.
"From here on, nobody knows the way," she said, an odd gentleness in her voice. "I wish I dared go all the way with you. Shall I wait here?"
"No," Wilding answered uneasily. "Take the girl back safely. I will find my way, or perhaps the Pit Men will show me...."
Tiny's laugh was gruesome. It echoed among the silent rocks and came back magnified. While the sound still clattered back and forth from the confining rock walls, Wilding left the women and went on.
He went through darkness and more silence. Flickering ghosts of movement paced his progress. He knew the Pit Men were all around him, watching, curious, waiting to spring and overwhelm him. His hand-light made a narrow rent in the solid curtain of blackness. He could see the path and the vague outlines of the passage for a few paces ahead. He went on for a long time.
Finally, he stood still and waited. Movement ceased around him. He shut off the radilume and shifted his position slightly. Again he waited. He stood still, scarcely breathing. Movement began again, and oddly, it seemed to move away from him. But one fragment of the movement drew closer. It edged toward him and stopped. It came on, slowly, softly, warily. Wilding could see nothing, scarcely hear the cautious breathing. But his instincts sensed the creature and placed it exactly. It was curious.
Suddenly Wilding leaped. There was quick, huddled violence in the darkness. The thing seemed all body. Wilding could find no arms or legs for leverage. But its strength was no match for his. Wilding overpowered the creature, felt it fall under him. In a flash, he was down on top of it, holding it against the rock floor, straddling a furry bulk, pinioning its struggles. The thing writhed feebly, then subsided and lay still. Wilding hoped he had not killed or seriously injured the Pit Man. He eased the pressure, and felt the soft body stir slightly. Relieved, he eased the strain a little more, but held his advantage.
His fingers clicked the radilume switch. Light was momentarily blinding after the darkness. Wilding ventured a quick glance at the captured Pit Man and turned away in revulsion. How could people eat such things!
Wilding sat on the prostrate Pit Man and felt very unhappy about the capture. The Pit Man goggled out of excited eyes and geysered an insane gibberish of sound. There were no recognizable words, and not even an indication that the sounds were words. It was like the notes of a curious, chittering birdsong, chromatic, waveringly melodic and set to vague rhythms, but it resembled no speech Wilding had ever heard.