"I allus carries a bit o' candle out of the lanthorns," he said, showing

his teeth; and then he held up the light, and I could see that the

opening to the cave was completely closed up, just as if the roof had

all come down, and the cave we were in was not half the size it was at

first, a slope of sand encroaching on the floor. I felt chilled, for I

felt that it would be impossible to tunnel through that sand.

"Now, then," said Shock coolly, "that there's the way--ain't it? Well,

we don't want no light to see to do that; so you put it out 'case we

wants it agen, and put it in yer pocket. I'll go down on my knees and

have first scratch, and when I'm tired you shall try, and we'll soon get

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through it. We won't wait for Ike."

I longed to keep the candle burning, but what Shock said seemed to be

right; so I put it out, and as I did so I saw the boy begin to scratch

away as hard as he could at the sand in the direction of the entrance,

and then in the dark I could hear him panting away like some wild

animal.

"I say," he cried at last.

"Yes," I said.

"It don't seem no good. More you pulls it away, more it comes down.

It's like dry water, and runs all through your hands."

"Let me have a try," I said.

"All right. You go where I did, and keep straight on."

Keep straight on! It was, as he said, like grasping at water; and the

more I tore at it, in the hope of making a tunnel through, the more it

came pouring down, till in utter despair I gave it up and told Shock it

was no good.

"Never mind," he said. "It's dry and warm. I've been in worse places

than this is, where you couldn't keep the rain out. Let's sit down and

talk. I say I wish I'd got the rest o' my rabbud."

I didn't answer, for, hot, weary, and despairing at our position, I was

lying down on the sand with my hands covering my face.

I don't know how long a time passed, for I felt confused and strange;

but I was aroused by Shock, who exclaimed suddenly: "Here, I want to get out of this. Let's have another try at scratching

a hole."

I heard him move, and then he struck a light again so as to see where to

begin.

"Must know, you see," he said. "If I get scratching at the wrong side,

it would take so long to get out."

In spite of my trouble I could not help feeling amused, there seemed to

be something so droll in the idea of Shock burrowing his way right into

the hill and expecting to get out; but the next moment I was listening

to him and watching the tiny spark at the end of the burned match die

out.




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