rest."

Fred could not help reflecting every few minutes on the terrible situation
in which he would be should his torch fail, and the other bring a pack of
ravenous creatures about him. They would make exceedingly short work of a
dozen like him.

"It seems good for hours yet," he said as he held it before him, and
examined it for the twentieth time.

The stick was a piece of a limb about as thick as his arm, and fully a
yard in length. It felt as heavy as _lignum vitae_, and, by looking at the
end held in his hand and that which was burning, it could be seen that it
was literally surcharged with resin--so much so that, after being cut, it
had overflowed, and was sticky on the outside. No doubt this, with others,
had been gathered for that express purpose, and there was no reason to
doubt its capacity.

As Fred advanced he caught occasional glimpses of the jagged overhanging
rocks, which in some places were wet, the water dripping down upon him as
he passed. The fact, too, that more than once both sides of the cave were
visible at the same time, told him that the dimensions of their prison
were altogether different from what he had supposed.

"There must be an end of this somewhere," he muttered, beginning to
suspect that he had gone quite a distance, "and I'm getting tired of this
tramping. I hope the wolf hasn't gone beyond the door he came in by, and I
hope he has nearly reached it, for it will take me some time before I can
find my way back to Mick."