"The place cant be very high above the level of the ground outside.
We could easily attract attention by filing a shot out. Then we
would make a rope out of the rushes in these mats, lower it with a
bit of stone at the end, on which we could write directions to Dick
with a bit of burnt stick, to hitch on a rope. We would haul in the
rope, make it fast, and then shin down."

"But suppose Dick is busy beating off the attack of Hassan's men?"

"Then we'll wait. I'm not going further--not a foot. If you like,
sir, you can go, but I will stay. I am not going down into those
horrible caves." His voice rose to a shout.

"All right," said the Hunter, soothingly. "In any case, I am afraid
we have left it too late."

"Late or early, I'll not go on."

When they did reach the loopholes, they found on looking out that
the valley on that side was already in the shadow.

"We will stay, then," said Mr. Hume. "Let me unstrap the mat from
your shoulders."

Venning had already sat down with a dogged look in his face, and Mr.
Hume had to lift him up to loosen the mat. The boy--there was no
disguising the matter any farther--was ill, and it would clearly be
dangerous to excite him by opposition.

After making the boy comfortable, Mr. Hume sat smoking his pipe, the
first time for many hours, in lieu of food. He himself was feeling
the effect of the long period of anxiety, for he had scarcely eaten
a mouthful, beyond his drink of milk, as he had given his little
store to his young friend, who was in more need of it. But it was
not of himself he thought. He had a new anxiety about Dick, and
bitterly blamed himself for having so blindly followed the woman
into this horrible place, that was one succession of death-traps.

"I'm very thirsty," muttered the boy.

Mr. Home leaned over him. "Keep quiet," he said, "and I'll bring you
some water."

Taking only his Ghoorka knife and his match-box, the Hunter went on
to the Cave of Skulls. Luckily for the denizens of that ominous
place, none of them were there to bar his entrance, for he was in a
grim mood, so making a bonfire of some of the mats, he looked about.
One calabash contained water, and this he carried back, together
with something equally precious--a bunch of bananas that were black
with smoke, yet fit to eat by any one who was very hungry or did not
see them. The boy was sitting up waiting with burning eyes.

"You were so long," he muttered.

"But I won't go away again, old