nstant or two that strange sensation experienced when rushing downward
in a swing. Then _splash_! and his feet sent the water flying as he
landed upon soft sand, while a hand grasped his shoulder, and he could
dimly see the convict's swarthy face.

"All right?"

"Yes. Did I hit you with the gun?"

"Pretty hard, boy; but, never mind--it didn't go off."

Nic looked round, and by the light which gleamed from above through a
lovely lacework of overhanging ferns he could see rugged rocks, which
looked of a glistening: metallic green, but in places of a soft rippled
cream, as if the rich produce of hundreds of cows had trickled down the
walls and turned to stone. Water was flowing about his feet, but only
an inch or two deep, and beyond where the convict stood there was black
darkness.

"I say, is this really the way down to the bottom of that great gorge,
Leather--I mean Frank Mayne?" said Nic breathlessly, for his heart, in
spite of his having gone through no exertion, still laboured heavily.

"Yes, and a gloriously easy way, as you will soon see."

"See?" cried Nic.

"Yes; come along."

"One moment," said Nic, pausing to look upward at the arching ferns
eight or ten feet overhead. "No one would think of coming down there to
look for a way. But how about footmarks in this soft sand? One of the
blacks would trace us directly."

"The water trickles over them and washes them full of sand directly,
Nic. I am safe in that."

"But did you venture into this black darkness without knowing where you
were going? One might slip down into some horrible pit."

"I slipped down into a horrible pit years ago, boy," said the convict
bitterly, "and I felt that I could only lose my life in an adventurous
search. But I did not go far in the dark. Come on a few yards, and I
will show you. There is nothing to mind."

"Does the water get deeper?" whispered Nic, in an awe-stricken voice.

"Never more than an inch or two, except in rainy time, and then of
course it becomes a rushing torrent and impassable. Come along: it is
always a soft sandy or rippled path formed of petrifactions like that
you saw just now."

Nic braced up his nerves and followed the _wash_, _wash_ of the
convict's footsteps till his companion cried, "Halt!"

"Now," he said--"hold this."

"This" proved to be a great piece of soft, crumbling touchwood, which
felt as if it had been torn from some dry, rotting gum tree; and
directly after _nick_--_