"Perhaps we can find a way out." The candle was lit, and I started as I saw how much the sand had crept in during the time that we had been asleep.

It had regularly flowed in like water, and as we held the candle down there was one place where it trickled down a slope, just as you see it in an egg-boiler or an old-fashioned hour-glass.
We looked all round; went to the spot where the hole ended in what was quite hard sandy rock.

Then we looked up at the top, where we could dimly make out the crack or rift through which the smoke had gone, but there was no daylight to be seen through it, though of course it communicated with the outer air.
Then we had a look at the part where we had come in, but there the sand was loose, and we had learned by bitter experience that to touch it was only to bring down more.
"I say," said Shock, as we extinguished the scrap of candle left, part of which had run down on Shock's hand; "we're shut up." "Shut up!" I said indignantly; "have you just found that out ?" "Well, don't hit a fellow," he cried.

"I say, have a bit ?" "Bit of what ?" I cried, as I realised how hungry I had grown.
"Taller," he said.

"Some on it run down.