he went on with a feeling of distinct relief at the
thought that there might be another way out than by the fearful
track they had followed on entering. On nearing the second exit he
paused, startled by what seemed to him the sound of shrill voices
borne suddenly in a pause between the bellowing of the water-jets
in the neighbouring vault. When he listened he could, however,
distinguish no sound in the mutterings and the boomings that was
human, and repressing a desire to cry out, he groped along up to the
second exit. Here, however, there were no footprints. The surface
was smooth rock, and he was passing on when something about the rock
attracted his attention again. Leaving one of the sticks again to
guide him on his return by its glowing end, he returned to the fire,
rebuilt it, waited till it was fairly blazing, then with another
glaring torch he ran to continue his search. He found what he had
half expected, that the rock had been polished by the passage of
many feet, which had worn out quite a marked depression. He also
satisfied himself that the woman had not passed out there, for as
her feet had been wet she must have left some trace on the smooth
surface. There remained now the third and last exit, and as he edged
away to the left, he saw that the beaten track also led in the same
direction. He rose and walked, feeling for the opening with his
right hand, and, coming to it, he was glad, but not surprised, to
make two discoveries, first, that the well-marked path entered the
opening, and second, that the woman had also passed that way. There
was the spoor of one foot clearly outlined in particles of moist
dust.

"That's good," he muttered, standing up. "But I don't like the look
of that path. Means people. But what sort of people? And the kaross
and the goats'-milk. People again. No good taking risks."

He went back to the fire, drew the sticks away, thrust the burning
ends into crevices, and left the comer in darkness once more. Then
he sat down by Venning with his rifle across his knees and waited.
He had no thought of moving a foot from the cave until Venning was
fit to move; he would let him have his sleep out, and if he was no
better, well, then, he would carry him. So he sat waiting and
watching, listening to the hoarse rumblings which all the time
ascended from below, and to the tremendous reports, a little dulled
by the intervening wall, made by the spurting water. He watched the
coming of the nigh