day to see if we couldn't have a bit of fun, so I sha'n't
quarrel. Oh, I say, what a while he is! He's just like old Teggley
Grey's horse, only he ain't so quick."

Poor old Bigley wasn't quick, certainly, for it was hot, and hard
climbing to where we were perched. To have come straight up was next to
impossible: the only way was to come sidewise, getting a little higher
as you walked along; and toiling industriously at his task, Bigley at
last reached the foot of the piled-up mass where we were waiting.

"Oh, I say, come up. Be quick. What a while you have been!" said Bob.
"Got it?"

"Oh, it's all very well to talk," panted Bigley wiping his forehead,
"sitting down there so quietly. It's hot."

"Never mind about it's being so hot," cried Bob. "Have you got it?"

"Got what?"

"Did you ever hear such a chap?" cried Bob. "The powder."

"Why, of course I have. Didn't I go on purpose to get it?"

We both thought that the intention was not always followed by the deed,
but we said nothing in our anxiety to get the material for our
experiment; and as Bigley had come to a halt, we had to go down about a
hundred feet to help him climb up the rest of the way, when he drew out
a pint tin can full of powder, the flint and steel, and a piece of rag,
which he had taken the precaution to damp in the stream and then wring
out before starting back.

We set to work at once making the damp rag into a fuse by rubbing it
well with the coarse-grained gunpowder, and then, it being decided that
we could not do better than leave the powder in the tin canister, whose
opening answered admirably for the insertion of the rag fuse, Bob set to
work to enlarge the hole he had made till it was big enough to admit the
charge.

Then with great care the end of the rag was thrust into the powder, and
held there with a piece of slaty chip, sufficient length of the rag
being left to reach out beyond the side of the stone.

Next Bob took the tin and thrust it into its place far under the rock,
and the only remaining thing to do was to light the fuse and get well
out of the way.

"Who's going to nick the steel?" I said.

"Well," said Bob coolly, "as I've done nearly all the rest of the work
you may as well do that."

I felt a moment's hesitation, nothing more, and taking the flint, steel,
and tinder-box, with a brimstone match, I went down on my knees beside
the stone, where the piece of rag lay out ready, and after a great deal
of