seemed to stop its
beating. It died away slowly, and a weird stillness fell after it.
Then came a low moaning cry, a cry that was human in its agony, and
yet which had in it something so near the savage that even Wabigoon
found himself trembling as he strained in futile effort to pierce
the impenetrable gloom ahead. Before the cry had lost itself in the
distances of the cavern Mukoki was leading them on again.

Step by step they followed in the path taken by the strange light. Rod
knew that they were climbing a hill of sand, and that just beyond
it they would see the light again, but he was not prepared for the
startling suddenness with which the next change came. As if a black
curtain had dropped from before their eyes the three adventurers
beheld a scene that halted them in their tracks. A hundred paces away
a huge pitch-pine torch a yard in length was burning in the sand, and
crouching in the red glow of this, his arms stretched out as if in the
supplication of a strange prayer, was John Ball! Just beyond him was
the gleam of water, inky-black in the weird flickerings of the torch,
and toward this John Ball reached out in his grief. His voice came up
softly to the three watchers now, so low that even in the vast silence
of the cavern it could barely be heard. To Roderick Drew it was as if
the strange creature below him was sobbing like a heart-broken child,
and he whispered in Wabigoon's ear. Then, foot by foot, so gently that
his moccasined feet made no sound, he approached the madman.

Half-way to him he paused.

"Hello, John Ball!" he called softly.

The faint light of the torch was falling upon him, and he advanced
another step. The murmuring of the wild man ceased, but he made no
movement. He still knelt in his rigid posture, his arms stretched
toward the black chaos beyond him. Rod came very close to him before
he spoke again.

"Is that you, John Ball?"

Slowly the kneeling figure turned, and once more Rod saw in those wild
eyes, gleaming brightly now in the torch-light, the softer, thrilling
glow of recognition and returning reason. He reached out his own arms
and advanced boldly, calling John Ball's name, and the madman made no
retreat but crouched lower in the sand, strange, soft sounds again
falling from his lips. Rod had come within half a dozen feet of him
when he sprang up with the quickness of a cat, and with a wailing
cry plunged waist deep into the water. With his arms stretched
entreatingly