"You couldn't ask more of a friend than that, son. I couldn't get you up to me, so I came down with you—"
Of course, it was an accident. Cadman presently explained that he had set down his dunnage and crept close on his knees to look into the pit when the dry earth caved. Doubtless it was intended to do so, since this was a native tiger-trap baited with live meat. But Cadman had not considered fully in time. . . . Dust of the dry brown earth settled upon them now; the grey twilight darkened swiftly. The chamber was about nine by fifteen feet, hollowed wider at the bottom than the top, and covered with a thin frame of bamboo poles, upon which was spread a layer of leaves and sod. The kid had been tethered to escape the stroke if possible.
"It's all night for us," Cadman remarked. "They won't look at the trap until morning. My packs are above—rifle and blanket—"
"I have the camera," Skag chuckled.
Cadman's thin hand came out gropingly.
"The cigarettes are in the tea-pot," he said in a voice dulled with pain.
"I have the pistol," Skag added dreamily. Something of the situation had touched him with joy. If he spoke at such times, it was very dryly.
"Doubtless you have our bathing-suits," Cadman suggested.
"And my cigarette-case has—" Skag felt in the dark, "has one—two—three—"
"Go on," the other said tensely.