This sudden revelation that Mrs. Weldon was acquainted with the true state of things left Dick speechless. Even had he been capable of replying, she gave him no opportunity, but immediately retired2 to the side of her son. The various incidents of the march had all gradually enlightened her, and perhaps the exclamation3 of Cousin Benedict on the preceding evening had crowned them all; anyhow the brave lady now knew the worst. Dick felt, however, that she did not despair; neither would he.
He lay and longed for the dawn, when he hoped to explore the situation better, and perchance to find the watercourse which he was convinced could not be far distant. Moreover, he was extremely anxious to be out of the reach of the natives whom, it was only too likely, Negoro and Harris might be putting on their track.
But as yet no glimmer4 of daylight penetrated5 the aperture6 of the cone7, whilst the heavy rumblings, deadened as they were by the thickness of the walls, made it certain that the storm was still raging with undiminished fury. Attentively8 Dick listened, and he could distinctly hear the rain beating around the base of the ant-hill; the heavy drops splashed again as they fell, in a way altogether different to what they would upon solid ground, so that he felt sure that the adjacent land was by this time completely flooded. He was getting very drowsy9 when it suddenly occurred to him that it was not unlikely the aperture was getting blocked up with damp clay; in that case he knew that the breath of the inmates10 would quickly vitiate the internal atmosphere. He crept along the ground and had the satisfaction of finding that the clay embankment was still perfectly11 dry; the orifice was quite unobstructed, allowing not only a free passage to the air, but admitting the glare of the occasional flashes of lightning, which the descending12 volumes of water did not seem to stay.
Having thus far satisfied himself that all was well, and that there was no immediate1 danger, Dick thought that he might now resign himself to sleep as well as the rest: he took the precaution, however, of stretching himself upon the embankment within easy reach of the opening, and with his head supported against the wall, after a while dozed13 off.
How long his light slumber14 had lasted he could not say, when he was aroused by a sensation of cold. He started up, and to his horror discovered that the water had entered the ant-hill and was rising rapidly; it could not be long, he saw, before it reached the cells which were occupied by Hercules and Tom. He woke them at once, and told them what he had observed. The lantern was soon lighted, and they set to work to ascertain15 what progress the water was making It rose for about five feet, when it was found to remain stationary16.
"What is the matter, Dick?" inquired Mrs. Weldon, disturbed by the movements of the men.
"Nothing very alarming," answered Dick promptly17; "only some water has found its way into the lower part of the place; it will not reach your upper cells; probably some river has overflowed18 its boundaries."
"The very river, perhaps," suggested Hercules assuringly, "that is to carry us to the coast."
Mrs. Weldon made no reply.
Cousin Benedict was still sleeping as soundly as if he were himself a white ant; the negroes were peering down on to the sheet of water which reflected back the rays of the lantern, ready to carry out any orders given by Dick, who was quietly gauging19 the inundation20, and removing the provisions and fire-arms out of its reach.
[Illustration: They set to work to ascertain what progress the water was making.]
"Did the water get in at the opening, Mr. Dick?" asked Tom.
"Yes, Tom, and consequently we are coming to the end of our stock of fresh air," was Dick's reply.
"But why should we not make another opening above the water level?" Tom inquired.
"A thing to be thought about," said Dick; "but we have to remember that if we have five feet of water here inside, there is probably a depth of six or seven outside. In rising here the flood has compressed the air, and made it an obstacle to further progress, but if we allow the air to escape, we may perhaps only be letting the water rise too high for our safety. We are just as if we were in a diving-bell."
"Then what is to be done?" asked the old negro.
"No doubt," replied Dick, "we must proceed very cautiously. An inconsiderate step will jeopardize21 our lives." Dick Sands was quite correct in comparing the cone to an immersed diving-bell. In that mechanical contrivance, however, the air can always be renewed by means of pumps, so that it can be occupied without inconvenience beyond what is entailed22 by a somewhat confined atmosphere; but here the interior space had already been reduced by a third part through the encroachment23 of the water, and there was no method of communicating with the outer air except by opening a new aperture, an operation in which there was manifest danger.
Dick did not entertain the slightest apprehension24 that the ant-hill would be carried away bodily by the inundation; he knew that it would adhere to its base as firmly as a beaver-hut; what he really dreaded25 was that the storm would last so long that the flood would rise high above the plain, perhaps submerging the ant-hill entirely26, so that ultimately all air would be expelled by the persistent27 pressure.
The more he pondered the more he felt himself driven to the conviction that the inundation would be wide and deep. It could not be, he felt sure, entirely owing to the downpour from the clouds that the rapid flood was rising; there must have been the sudden overflowing28 of some stream to cause such a deluge29 over the low-lying plain. It could not be proved that the ant hill was not already under water, so that escape might be no longer possible, even from its highest point.
With all Dick's courage, it was yet evident that he was very uneasy; he did not know what to do, and asked himself again and again whether patient waiting or decisive action would be his more prudent30 course.
It was now about three o'clock in the morning. All within the ant-hill were silent and motionless, listening to the incessant31 turmoil32 which told that the strife33 of the elements had not yet ceased.
Presently, old Tom pointed34 out that the height of the water was gradually increasing, but only by very slow ascent35. Dick could only say that if the flood continued to rise, however slowly, it must inevitably36 drive out the air.
As if struck by a sudden thought, Bat called out,-
"Let me try and get outside. Perhaps I might dive and get through the opening."
"I think I had better make that experiment myself," answered Dick.
"That you never shall," interposed Tom peremptorily37; "you must let Bat go. It may not be possible to get back, and your presence is indispensable here. Think, sir, think of Mrs. Weldon, and Master Jack38," he added in a lower tone.
"Well, well," Dick assented39, "if it must be so, Bat shall go."
And turning to Bat, he continued,
"Do not try to come back again; we will try, if we can, to follow you the same way; but if the top of the cone is still above water, knock hard on it with your hatchet40, and we shall take it as a signal that we may break our way out. Do you understand?"
"All right!" he said, "all right, sir."
And after wringing41 his father's hand, he drew a long breath, and plunged42 into the water that filled the lower section of the ant-hill.
It was an exploit that required considerable agility44; the diver would have to fin............