“The matches will last if we use them sparingly,” Jerry replied. “We’ve got to take this stuff with us, though. No; we’ll leave the venison behind. Here’s the rifle. Be careful, for it’s loaded.”
He gave Hamp the weapon and some of the dishes. The rest he took himself. When he picked up the tin coffeepot, it rattled. He lifted the lid, and found two sperm candles.
“Here’s luck,” he exclaimed. “How did they get here? We’re sure of light now.”
“Brick put them in the coffeepot this morning,” said Hamp. “He had them in his pocket, and didn’t want to carry them.”
“Brick ought to have a medal for that,” declared Jerry, as he lighted one of the candles. “Have we got everything? Yes; come on.”
They trampled over the snow and went cautiously and slowly along the gloomy passage. The yellow gleam of the candle danced ahead of them and threw grotesque shadows on the slimy walls and roof. They advanced ten feet. The distance increased to twenty. As yet, not a speck of daylight could be seen.
Suddenly a rustling noise was heard. A low, angry growl followed instantly. Beyond the radius of candlelight the terrified boys saw a pair of fiery, snapping eyes. They stopped and turned half around.
“The rifle, quick!” cried Jerry.
He snatched it out of his companion’s hands and gave him the candle instead. But before Jerry could lift the hammer of the weapon a startling interruption came from an unexpected quarter.