CHAPTER TEN.
A VENTURESOME JOURNEY.
"Mind how you go," said Mike in a subdued voice, for the darkness and reverberation following the kicking of a loose pebble impressed him.
"All right: it's only a stone.

It was just down there that I slipped to.

Ahoy!" He shouted softly, with one hand to his mouth, and his cry seemed to run whispering away from them to echo far beneath their feet.
"I say, don't do that," said Mike excitedly.
"Why not?
Nobody could hear." "No; but it sounds so creepy and queer.

Let's have a light." It did sound "creepy and queer," for the sounds came from out of the unknown, which is the most startling thing in nature, from the fact that our busy brains are always ready to dress it up in the most weird way, especially if the unknown lies in the dark.
But no more was said, for Vince was busy opening his basket, out of which he drew an old-fashioned horn lanthorn and gave it to Mike to hold, while he took something else out of the creel, which rattled as it was moved.
"Why, you've only brought half a candle," said Mike, who had opened the lanthorn, and held it so that the rays which streamed down through the brambles overhead fell in its interior.

"What shall we do when that burns out ?" "Light one of the pieces I've got in my pockets," said Vince coolly, as he sat down on the water-worn granite, and placed a round, flattish tin box between his knees.