"I wish I only had two inches of a candle.

However, I think I can make my exploration in the dark." There was a short moment of silence, after which was heard a clinking sound, as of a knife blade being repeatedly struck against a stone.

It was Hamersley, with his bowie, chipping off a piece from the rock that projected from the side of the shaft.
The sound was pleasant to the Kentuckian's ear, for it was not the hard metallic ring given out by quartz or granite.

On the contrary, the steel struck against it with a dull, dead echo, and he could feel that the point of the knife easily impinged upon it.
"Sandstone," he said; "or something that'll serve our purpose equally as well.

Yes, Walt, there's a good chance for us to get out of this ugly prison; so keep up your heart, comrade.