"Oh yes, I do," replied Jack. "I'm afraid we might slip down into some horrible black pit; but we need not if we're careful."
"Ah, you don't seem to understand me, sir, and I don't quite understand myself. I suppose it's from only being half myself again, for one of my arms is no good at all. That's what makes me feel a bit cowardly like."
"Yes, of course, it makes you nervous," said Jack quietly.
"There! Feel that, sir?" whispered Ned in a horror-stricken voice.
"That hot puff of air? Yes, it's curious. I suppose it would grow warmer the farther we went in."
"And you taking it as cool as can be, sir," said Ned in a voice full of reproach.
"Well, why not? We've only got to be careful, just as we should have to be if we were climbing up to the crater. There would be hot steamy puffs of air there, and--Quick, don't speak. Take hold of my hand, and let's go softly right in."
Ned did not hesitate, but obeyed at once, and they walked softly on into the darkness ahead, for from apparently close behind them--though the speakers had not yet reached the mouth of the low cavern--there came the confused angry gabble of many voices, and on looking back Ned saw the mouth of the place darkened, and it seemed as if the enemy were about to come in; but some were apparently hesitating, and protesting against its being done.
Ned's dread of the unseen departed at sight of the seen, and he walked firmly onward, gripping Jack's hand tightly.
"Come on in, sir," he whispered; "they're after us. Let's get into a dark corner, and let 'em have it with stones--some of these sharp bits."
Everything seemed to point to the fact that they must either get right into the depths of the cavern and trust to finding a place of concealment, or stand on their defence as Ned suggested, and meet their enemies with stones.
They must have retreated quite fifty yards over the sharp cracking fragments, when the light which shone in upon them from the mouth suddenly ceased, and looking round for the cause, they found that the passage had made a sudden turn, so that they had to go back three or four yards before they could catch sight of the enemy.
That which they saw was enough to startle them, showing as it did the imminence of their danger, and that the blacks were probably coming in search of them, under the belief that they were in hiding. For one, evidently the leader, was in advance, with bow and arrow in hand ready to shoot, and his companions held their spears prepared for action as they came on in a stooping attitude.
"Shall we shoot at 'em?" whispered Ned, feeling now in the presence of danger.
"No. Let's get a little heap of stones and be ready to throw when they are well in reach."
"Oh, if I could only use my other arm!" muttered Ned. "Come on then, sir. They can't see us now. Perhaps there's a narrower place farther in, and the darker it is the better for us and the worse for them."
The change in the poor fellow was wonderful. He did not seem like the same. It struck Jack for the moment, but he had something else to think about, and he followed his companion quickly, at the risk of slipping into some precipitous place.
It was too dark to see much when they stopped again, but they could feel plenty of rough pieces of stone beneath their feet, and the place was narrow enough to make the chances of a successful defence greater.
"It's an ugly job, Mr Jack, sir," said Ned, "and I feel precious shaky about my throwing, though there was a time when I'd hurl a cricket-ball with any man I knew. If they think they're coming nobbling us about with their war-clubs and getting nothing back, they're precious well mistaken, so scuffle up all you can, and--Oh! Murder!"
Ned dropped down on his face, and Jack crawled against the wall, for at the first attempt made to pull a stone from a heap there was a sharp rustling sound, a little avalanche of fragments was set in motion, and they fell with a tremendous splash into some subterranean natural reservoir; a loud reverberation followed, and instantaneously, as the echoes went bellowing out through the passage by which the fugitives had entered, there was a strange rushing fluttering, and the sound as of a roaring mighty wind unchained from some vast chasm where it had lain at rest.
Jack felt the wind touching him as it passed. Then in a flash he knew that it was caused by the beating of thousands of wings, and then, with his heart beating heavily, he was listening to an outburst of shrieks and yells, and lastly nothing was to be heard but Ned groaning and muttering:
"Oh dear! oh dear! it 'd frighten any man, let alone a poor chap who's been wounded mortal bad!"
A few minutes of time only were occupied by the whole of what took place, from the first rattle of the stones to Ned's piteous ejaculations, and Jack crouched there listening till the poor fellow exclaimed--
"Mr Jack, sir, where are you? Don't say you're dead."
"No, Ned, I won't."
"Oh, my dear lad, where are you then?" gasped the poor fellow wildly.
"Here, quite safe; but don't move, there must be a terrible gulf close beside you."
"Yes, sir, and I thought it had swallowed you. I say, is it all over with us?"
"I hope not," said Jack quietly. "But listen, Ned; can you hear the blacks?"
"Hear 'em! No, sir. My ears seem full of the shrieks and cries of those things as they tore out of the place, and you would stick out that they were bats. Phew, can't you smell 'em?"
"Yes, plainly enough; but it was not the bats made those noises, it must have been the blacks."
"No, no, sir, it was those horrid things. I felt 'em hitting me with their wings as they swooped by."
"Nonsense, nonsense. They were scared by the noise of the stones falling, and the echoes, and it seems to me that they scared the blacks as well as us, and they have run out again."
"What!" cried Ned. "You don't mean that, Mr Jack?"
"But I do. Ned, they've gone."
"Well! and I was only just before thinking that I was getting over being so shaky and nervous, and not so queer about myself, and then for me to break down like that. Of all the cowardly cranks I ever did come across! Oh, I say, Mr Jack, sir, ain't you ashamed of me?"
"I'm quite as ashamed of myself, Ned. I don't know who could help being frightened; my heart's beating tremendously still. But they've gone, Ned, I feel sure."
"Well, I believe they have, sir, 'pon my word. But I say, Mr Jack, sir, don't be offended at what I say."
"Of course not. Say it quick."
"It's on'y this, sir; are you the same young gent as sailed with us from Dartmouth a short time ago? because you cap me."
"Here, give me your hand," cried Jack. "No; stop. Don't move. You might slip. Can't we get a light?"
"Light, sir? Yes; of course. I've got a little box of wax matches in my pocket."
There was a faint rustling sound in the darkness, and then Ned uttered a groan.
"Lost them?"
"No, sir; here they are, but I forgot about the rain last night. They must be all soaked and spoiled."
"Try one."
"Yes, sir, I'll try. But I say, Mr Jack, this is like being in a mine, and it must be fiery, as they call it, being so hot. Will there be any danger of an explosion from gas?"
"Oh, surely not. This isn't a coal-mine, but a sort of grotto under a flow of lava. Try if one of them will light."
"All right, sir. I say, they rattle all right, as if they were hard."
The box clicked as Ned opened it; he took out a match, rubbed it sharply, and there was a faint line of phosphorescent light.