the thongs, who apparently did not expect
their intended prey to approach by any course except the passage near
which they were standing; but after a slight pause of hesitancy, the
thongs were whirling in the air, and descending, lasso-fashion, upon
the shoulders of the intruders. The noose caught Langley over his arms,
which were instantly drawn close against his body as the throng
tightened, so he was thus rendered completely powerless; but Whitson
sprang, quick as lightning, to one side, and escaped. Three shots from
his revolver rang out in as many seconds, and the two men and the
woman--who was in the act of lifting her club to brain Langley--lay
rolling on the ground, each with a bullet through the head.

The four old hags at the fire began to mow and scream, and got up and
hobbled into the cave. Whitson drew his knife, and cut the thong with
which Langley was vainly struggling, and then the two men, pale as
death, looked silently at each other with starting eyes.

Whitson re-loaded his revolver, and then made a sort of torch out of
dry reeds; a pile of which lay close at hand. He then, leaving Langley
to guard the cave, carefully examined all the passages and spaces
between the rocks, but he could mid no trace of any one. The two men
thereupon entered the cave, Whitson holding the torch high over his
head. They found that it ran straight in or about fifteen paces, and
then curved sharply to the left.

It was about four paces in width, and about eight feet high--the roof
being roughly arched. The walls and roof were covered with thick,
black, greasy soot; and an indescribably horrible stench, which
increased the further they advanced, made them almost vomit. They found
that where the cave curved to the left, it ended in a circular chamber
about eight paces in diameter, and at one side of this crouched the
four old hags, huddled together, and mowing and chattering horribly.

Across a cleft about two feet wide, in the right-hand wall of the cave,
a stick was fixed transversely, and hanging to this were some lumps of
half-dried and smoked flesh. Whitson went up close and examined these
carefully. He drew back with a shudder, and his face changed from pale
to ashen grey.

He and Langley then went outside and stood for a while in the fresh
air. They could endure, just then, no more of the foetid atmosphere
inside. After a short time, they gathered up some dry twigs and reeds,
and set several little heaps alight at