But the little light was lost in the enormous blackness, and we could see nothing.
"Send a man down!" he counseled.
We leaned over the edge and sniffed.

There was a faint smell of what might be sulphur, but not enough to hurt.
"Who'll go ?" asked Monty, and I thought he was going to volunteer himself.
"I go down!" announced Kazimoto cheerfully, and promptly proceeded to divest himself of every stitch of clothing.
We made our stoutest line fast under his arm-pits, gave him a lantern and lowered him over the edge.

For fifty or sixty feet he descended steadily, swinging the lantern and walking downward, held almost horizontally by the slowly paid-out rope.

Then he stopped, and we heard him whistling.
"What do you see ?" we called down.
"Pembe!" (Ivory.) "Much of it ?" "Teli!" (Too much!) "Oh, teli, teli! Teli, teli, teli, TELI!" His voice ended with the very high-pitched note that natives use when they want to multiply superlatives.

Then he whistled again.