make him feel like a walnut in a door."

"Don't look a very cheerful place, Mr Jones," came from the mouth of
the cavern.

"Afraid to go in?"

"Afraid, sir? You never knew me afraid."

"Well, in you go and fetch them out," said the boatswain with a laugh.
"If you don't come back I shall know that the Maoris have got you, and
are saving you for the pot."

From where Don and Jem stood in the darkness they could see their spying
sinister friend give quite a start; but he laughed off the impression
the boatswain's words had made, and began to come cautiously on, feeling
his way as a man does who has just left the bright sunshine to enter a
dark place.

Jem uttered a loud hiss as he drew his breath, and Ramsden heard it and
stopped.

"Mr Jones," he said sharply.

"Well?"

"Think there's any big snakes here? I heard a hiss."

"Only steam from a hot spring. No snakes in this country."

"Oh!" ejaculated Ramsden: and he came cautiously on.

Don felt Jem's arm begin to twitch, and discovery seemed imminent. For
a few moments he was irresolute, but, knowing that if they were to
escape they must remain unseen, he let his hand slide down to Jem's
wrist, caught it firmly, and began to back farther into the cave.

For a few moments he had to drag hard at his companion but, as if
yielding to silently communicated superior orders Jem followed him
slowly, step by step, with the greatest of caution, and in utter
silence.

The floor of the cave was wonderfully smooth, the rock feeling as if it
had been worn by the constant passage over it of water, and using their
bare feet as guides, and feeling with them every step, they backed in as
fast as Ramsden approached, being as it were between two dangers, that
of recapture, and the hidden perils, whatever they might be, of the
cave.

It was nerve-stirring work, for all beyond was intense darkness, out of
which, as they backed farther and farther in, came strange whisperings,
guttural gurglings, which sounded to Don as if the inhabitants of the
place were retiring angrily before their disturbers, till, driven to bay
in some corner, they turned and attacked.

But still Don held tightly by Jem's wrist, and mastering his dread of
the unknown, crept softly in, turning from time to time to watch
Ramsden, who came on as if some instinct told him that those he sought
for were there.

"Found 'em?" shouted the boatswain; and his voice taught the hiding pair
that the cave went