to Wilson's cattle its undergrowth was rank and high, and as it was
sheltered from the sun's rays and watered in part by a tiny spring, it
was often the one green oasis in a weary land of crackling yellow and
drab.

After gaining the bottom of the quarry, Jacker led the way to the deepest
end. Here the bottom, covered with scrub growth, sloped rather suddenly
for a few feet up to the abrupt wall. Going on his hands and knees under
the thick odorous peppermint saplings, Jacker ran his head into a niche
in the rock amongst climbing sarsaparilla, and remained so, like some
strange geological specimen half embedded in the rock. Within, where his
head was hidden, the darkness was impenetrable. Jacker blew a strange
note on a whistle manufactured from the nut of an apricot, and after a
few moments a light appeared below him, a feeble flame, far down in the
rock. This was waved twice and then withdrawn.

'Righto!' said Jacker in a hoarse piratical tone. 'Gimme the tucker,
Black Douglas; I'll go down. You coves keep watch, an' no talkin', mind.'

Phil grumbled inarticulately, and Jacker's tone became hoarser and more
piratical still.

'Who's commandin' here?' he growled. 'D'ye mean mutiny?

'Oh, shut up!' said Doon, bitterly. 'No one's goin' t' mutiny, but there
ain't no fun campin' here.'

McKnight relented.

'All right,' he said, 'come down if you wanter. S'pose you'll on'y be