hard sandy rock. Then we looked up at the top, where we could
dimly make out the crack or rift through which the smoke had gone, but
there was no daylight to be seen through it, though of course it
communicated with the outer air.

Then we had a look at the part where we had come in, but there the sand
was loose, and we had learned by bitter experience that to touch it was
only to bring down more.

"I say," said Shock, as we extinguished the scrap of candle left, part
of which had run down on Shock's hand; "we're shut up."

"Shut up!" I said indignantly; "have you just found that out?"

"Well, don't hit a fellow," he cried. "I say, have a bit?"

"Bit of what?" I cried, as I realised how hungry I had grown.

"Taller," he said. "Some on it run down. There ain't much; two or
three little nobbles. I'll give yer a fair whack."

"Why, you don't mean to eat that, you nasty fellow," I cried.

"Don't!" he said; "but I do. Here's your half. I've eat worse things
than that."

"Why, Shock," I cried, as a flash of hope ran through me, "I forgot."

"Forgot what?" he cried. "Way out?"

"No," I said gloomily; "but my sandwiches--bread and meat Mrs Solomon
cut for me."

"Bread and meat!" he shouted. "Where is it?"

"In my jacket. I hung it on a stone in the side somewhere here. Light
a match."

_Crick--crick--crack_ went the match; then there was a flash, and the
sputtering bubbling blue flame of the sulphur, for matches were made
differently in those days, when paraffin had not been dreamed of for
soaking the wood.

Then the light burned up clearly, and Shock held the splint above his
head, and we looked round.

"There ain't no jacket here," said Shock dolefully. "What did yer say
bread and meat for?" he continued, as the match burned out and he threw
it down. "It's made me feel so hungry. I could eat a bit o' you."

"I can't understand it, Shock," I said.

"I wish I'd got some snails or some frogs," he muttered. "I could eat
'em raw."

"Don't," I said with a shudder.

"I knowed a chap once who eat two live frogs. Put 'em on his tongue--
little uns, you know--and swallowed 'em down. He said he could feel 'em
hopping about inside him after. Wasn't he a brute?"

"Don't talk to me," I cried, as I went feeling about the wall, with my
head in a state of confusion. "I know I had the jacket in here."

"Have you got it on?" he said.

"No--no--no! I hung it on a bit of sharp stone that stuck ou