Dick now came to his determination. At about a foot above the water-level, that is, about seven feet from the ground, he resolved to bore a hole through the clay. If he should find himself in communication with the open air, he would have the proof he desired that the top of the cone was still uncovered; if, on the other hand, he should ascertain that he had pierced the wall below the surface of the external water, he would be prepared to plug up the hole instantaneously, and repeat the experiment higher up. It was true that the inundation might have risen even fifteen feet above the plain; in that case the worst had come, and there was no alternative but that they must all die of asphyxia.
Carefully considering the chances of his undertaking, Dick calmly and steadily set about his task. The best instrument that suggested itself for his purpose was the ramrod of a gun, which, having a sort of corkscrew at the end for extracting the wadding, would serve as an auger. The hole would be very small, but yet large enough for the requisite test. Hercules showed him all the light he could by holding up the lantern. There were several candles left, so that they were not in fear of being altogether in darkness.
The operation hardly took a minute; the ramrod passed through the clay without difficulty; a muffled sound was distinguished as of air-bubbles rushing through a column of water. As the air escaped, the water in the cone rose perceptibly. The hole had been pierced too low. A handful of clay was immediately forced into the orifice, which was thus effectually plugged; and Dick turned round quietly, and said—
“We must try again.”
The water had again become stationary, but its last rise had diminished the amount of breathing space by more than eight inches. The supply of oxygen was beginning to fail, respiration was becoming difficult, and the flame of the candle burned red and dim.
About a foot higher than the first hole, Dick now set about boring a second. The experiment might again prove a failure, and the water rise yet higher in the cone; but the risk must be run.
Just as the auger was being inserted, a loud exclamation of delight was heard proceeding from Cousin Benedict’s cell. Dick paused, and Hercules turned the lantern towards the excited naturalist, who seemed beaming with satisfaction.
“Yes, yes; I see it all well enough,” he cried; “I know now why the termites left their home; they were wide-awake; they were more clever than we are; they knew that the storm was coming!”
Finding that this was all the worthy entomologist had to communicate, Dick, without comment, turned back again to his operation. Again the gurgling noise! again the water’s upward rush! For the second time he had failed to effect an aperture to the outer air!
The situation was to the last degree alarming. The water had all but reached Mrs. Weldon, and she was obliged to take her boy into her arms. Everyone felt nearly stifled. A loud singing was heard in the ears, and the lantern showed barely any light at all. A few minutes more and the air would be incapable of supporting life. One chance alone remained. They must bore another hole at the very summit of the cone. Not that they were unaware of the imminent danger of this measure, for if the anthill were really submerged the water from below would immediately expel the remaining air and death must be instantaneous. A few brief words from Dick explained the emergency of the crisis. Mrs. Weldon recognized the necessity—
“Yes, Dick, do it; there is nothing else to be done.”
While she was speaking the light flickered out, and they were in total darkness.
Mounted on the shoulders of Hercules, who was crouching in one of the side-cells, his head only just above water, Dick proceeded to force the ramrod into the clay, which at the vertex of the anthill was considerably harder and thicker than elsewhere.
A strange mingling of hope and fear thrilled through Dick Sands as he applied his hand to make the opening which was to admit life and air, or the flood of death!
The silence of the general expectation was broken by the noise of a sharp hissing; the water rose for eight inches, but all at once it ceased to rise; it had found its level. No need this time to close the orifice; the top of the anthill was higher than the top of the flood; and for the present, at least, they could all rejoice that their lives were spared!
A general cheer, led by the stentorian voice of Hercules, involuntarily broke from the party; cutlasses were brought into action, and the clay crumbled away beneath the vigorous assault that was made upon it. The welcome air was admitted through the new-made aperture, bringing with it the first rays of the rising sun. The summit of the anthill once removed, it would be quite easy to clamber to the top, whence it was hoped they would soon get away to some high ground out of reach of the flood.
Dick was the first to mount the summit; but a cry of dismay burst from his lips!
A sound only too well known to travellers in Africa broke upon his ear; that sound was the whizzing of arrows.
Hardly a hundred yards away was a large encampment; whilst, in the water, quite close to the anthill where he stood, he saw some long boats full of natives. From one of these had come the volley of arrows which had greeted his appearance above the opening of the cone.
To tell his people what had happened was the work of a moment. He seized his gun, and made Hercules, Bat, and Actaeon take
