an who has had but two dry bones to pick
since yester-noon?" he groaned, pressing both hands upon his stomach.
"I am lean as the Egyptian kine, and fain would welcome even locusts
and wild honey."

"Well, friend," I insisted firmly, "if you follow, within fifteen
minutes you shall partake of a meal equalling that left behind. I
myself know well what a long fast means."

"'T is truly a grievous affliction, difficult to sustain in meekness of
spirit," he admitted, yet ever keeping me close company through the
increasing darkness of descent; "yet more am I distressed by the loss
of all spiritual nurture amid these wild heathen. Perchance, Master
Benteen, you might be led to unite with me in a moment's fervent
supplication before the throne of grace?"

"Ay; when the right time comes I will gladly join, yet I warn you now
not to send your bull voice roaring through these passages, or you will
have small opportunity for another meal."

"A time to work and a time to pray has ever been my motto, most worthy
youth, but my soul is so filled with gratitude at my providential
deliverance from pagan bondage--even as was Daniel from the lions'
den--I long to pour forth my joy in songs of praise. Patience, but
were I out of here, verily would I venture to uplift a psalm of Zion."

He spoke in such ecstasy I feared lest his zeal might conquer his
prudence, although in truth this latter virtue was one never apparent
in his composition, and I determined once for all to nip in the bud all
such inclination. So I halted in the darkness, and, as he lumbered
past, laid a restraining hand upon his shoulder.

"Now hark you, Ezekiel Cairnes," I muttered sternly, "I admire your
piety, but this is no conventicle of the elect we are in; rather a
place where your life, and those of others, depend on our caution. The
echoing of that bull voice along these galleries might cause the
blocking of our passage, caging us in here like rats in a hole. So
hold quiet, Master Preacher, and let me hear no more about either
prayers or psalms."

The grave determination in my voice served to sober him.

"'T is in my blood," he admitted doggedly, "to fight and work better to
the holy songs of Israel. It would bring renewed peace to my soul
merely to uplift a paean of victory over the discomfiture of my
enemies. But I seek no quarrel here, and hence bide in silence until a
proper moment to unseal my lips."

"'Twill be well you do. Now follow close