Page:Twenty Thousand Verne Frith 1876.pdf/72

 Ned Land, furious at such treatment, gave free vent to his indignation.

“A thousand devils,” he cried; “they call this hospitality. They only want to be cannibals to be perfect. I should not be surprised; but I will give them something before they make a meal of me!”

“Be quiet, friend Ned, keep quiet,” said Conseil calmly. “Don’t look too far ahead. We are not roasted yet.”

“Roasted, no,” replied Land; “but we are in the oven. It is as dark, at any rate. Fortunately, I have not lost my bowie-knife, and I can generally see well enough to use it. The very first of these robbers who lays a finger on me—”

“Don’t put yourself out, Ned,” I said; “we shall gain nothing by useless violence. Who can tell whether they can hear us? Let us rather endeavour to ascertain where we are.”

I advanced with outstretched hands. After five paces I touched a wall of riveted iron plates. Returning, I ran against a wooden table, near which were some stools. The floor was covered with a thick matting, which deadened the sound of our footsteps. The bare walls had neither door nor window perceptible. Conseil, who had been making a tour in the opposite direction, rejoined me, and we came into the centre of this cabin, which appeared to be about twenty feet long and ten wide. Even Ned Land, with his great height to assist him, could not touch the ceiling.

After half an hour had passed in this way, our eyes were suddenly exposed to a violently brilliant light. Our