We were expecting to be compelled to rest without any shelter, when Mudge, who was a little way on up the side of the mountain, cried out,—“Here is a cavern; it will shelter us, at all events, from the cold wind and dew; though I am afraid we must go without a fire—or our tea, seeing that we have no water to boil even if we could make one.”
I followed him, and groping our way we found ourselves in a large arched cavern in the slope of the mountain. It was apparently of no great depth, but would afford us, at all events, ample accommodation; and we accordingly crept in. We ate a little more pemmican and biscuit, though I had the greatest difficulty in swallowing my share. We then, groping about, discovered two soft places, beds of sand, a short distance apart. Mudge chose one, and I lay down on the other.
“Go to sleep quickly, Godfrey,” said Mudge; “it is the best thing you can do; you’ll find yourself stronger in the morning. We’ll start at daylight, and enjoy a capital breakfast—when we find it.”
I did my best to follow his advice, and succeeded better than I could have expected. I must have slept for a considerable time, when I awoke with a start, and saw by the light of the moon, which streamed into the cavern, Mudge sitting up with his pistols in his hands, and staring, as I fancied, wildly before him.
“What’s the matter?” I exclaimed, under the idea that he was still asleep and fancied that he saw something terrible.
“Look there! look there!” he answered. “Can those be wolves, or jackals, or hyenas? or what other prowling creatures of night are they, with staring eyeballs, at the entrance of the cavern? Be prepared, Godfrey; for I verily believe they are about to rush in and attack us.”
I now distinguished in the gloom a dozen or more animals with fiery eyes, as it seemed to me, staring fiercely at us. I say animals, though I could only make out the heads of most of them; but one elevated on a slight mound above the rest showed me what they were.
“I am very sure there are none of the animals you mention in this country,” I answered, more awake than Mudge. “I believe they are only cowardly dingos; and a shout, or, at all events, a shot, would send them to the right-about. Fire, and you’ll see I am not mistaken,” I shouted at the top of my voice.
He discharged his pistol, the report of which echoed loudly through the cavern; and, as I expected, the dingos—for such they were—instantly turned tail and scampered away, uttering cur-like yelps, which left no doubt as to their character.
“I believe I was half asleep,” said Mudge, “or I should have known what these yelping brutes were. They might have proved somewhat annoying had they attacked us unawares; but I don’t think they’ll come back. In case they should, I’ll keep one eye open; but do you go to sleep again, Godfrey—I am sorry you should have been disturbed.”