Let us return to the Night-Hawk and his prisoner.
To the former some of the events of Wolf Den was not unknown. Wolf-Cap had spoken truly when he told his companions that the cave had once served as the rendezvous of the outlaws, and as such a place, their leader should be acquainted with its intricacies.
He saw that his captive needed rest, and Wolf Den naturally suggested itself. Therefore, he made it his objective point after shooting Captain Strong, and intended to hide among its dark chambers until Huldah had fully recruited her strength.
“We’ll go up to the bat-chamber, girl,” he said, after entering the mouth of the den. “It is rather a gloomy place; but the only one where we can catch a breath of fresh air.”
So he lifted her from the ground and clambered up the great broken rocks that obstructed the natural stairway.
Up, up, still up he bore the girl, and at last paused with a long-fetched sigh of relief and satisfaction. He had reached the top of the stair.
Funk here lowered the girl, and constructed a torch from a sleeve of his hunting-frock.
“This cave used to swarm with bats,” he said, leading Huldah toward a dark portal of elephantine proportions. “But we drove them out, and used it for head-quarters. Yes, this is the place, here are the stones on which we sat, and the giant night-hawk, which Sam Cole drew on the wall, still remains. Now, girl— What? a bat?”
His exclamation was caused by the flapping of unseen wings, and then a black object shot through the torchlight, accompanied by a demoniacal chattering.
It was a bat, and a great one, too.