CHAPTER XIV

  PHILLIPS' DISCOVERY

  As soon as his comrades of the "Otters" had embarked on the firststage of their journey to Wadebridge Station to meet their temporaryScoutmaster, Jack Phillips sallied forth on his shooting expedition.

  He was a crack miniature-rifle shot, but although he understood theprinciple of a twelve-bore gun, he was an absolute novice at the taskthat had been deputed to him.

  A few hundred yards brought him to the fringe of the rabbitwarren--an extensive undulating tract of gorse-covered heathliberally honeycombed with holes. Pulling a couple of cartridges fromhis pocket, Phillips loaded; then, every sense on the alert, he movedcautiously forward.

  Yard after yard he walked at a slow pace, but, although he sawhundreds of the swiftly moving little animals far beyond range, notone accommodatingly showed itself to be shot at.

  "That's jolly strange," muttered the Scout. "When a crowd of us cameover here there were rabbits running about everywhere; now they keepa very respectful distance. I wonder if they know a gun when they seeone?"

  Phillips halted to straighten his back and to wipe the moisture fromhis forehead.

  "What's that?" he exclaimed to himself, as the sound of a sharp thudcame from almost under his feet.

  He listened intently. The noise was repeated.

  "I wonder if there's a cave underneath here?" he thought. "Seemsalmost as if there's a man using a pick, only the noise is ratherdifferent."

  He knelt down and placed his ear against the ground. A wasp, busyamongst the gorse, promptly buzzed so close that he jumped hastily tohis feet.

  "Bothered if I can understand it," he said to himself. "I'll mentionit to Atherton when he comes back. The Island seems chock full ofmysterious noises. But, there, I shan't get any rabbits if I foolabout here, so here goes."

  On and on he went till he neared the cliff on the eastern side of theIsland, but without the chance of a shot.

  "The rabbits are not out to-day, that's evident," he muttered."Perhaps they will be more in evidence this afternoon. I'll get backto the camp, for the longer I stay the more the other fellows willexpect me to bring back."

  With his gun under his arm, Phillips set off at a steady pace,following almost the same route that he had taken on his outwardjourney.

  Half way across the warren, a rabbit suddenly darted out of the furzebush and tore off as hard as it could away from the lad, at the sametime making a wide curve to the right.

  Before Phillips could fully cock his gun and raise it to his shoulderthe rabbit was beyond ordinary range. The Scout took a rapid aim andpressed the trigger. With a report that, compared with the crack of aminiature rifle, was like a cannon going off, the gun kicked and sentthe lad spinning. In his excitement he forgot the pain of the blow,for the rabbit was sprawling on the ground.

  "Got one, at any rate," exclaimed Phillips, gleefully.

  Placing his gun on the ground with more haste than care the Scout rantowards his prize; but before he had covered half the distance therabbit contrived to regain its feet and crawl down a hole.

  "What a nuisance," said the Scout dolefully, and, lying at fulllength, he thrust his arm down the hole in the hopes of being able tosecure the wounded animal. He could hear it scuffling only a few feetaway, but it was a case of so near and yet so far: as far as he wasconcerned he had lost his trophy.

  Rather crestfallen, Phillips returned to the camp, where he foundFarmer Trebarwith surrounded by an attentive audience of the"Wolves."

  "Got anything?" asked Neale. "We heard you firing."

  "Of course he's got some," said Hayes. "He's shot so many that he'shad to leave them for us to go out and fetch."

  "You jolly well shut up," retorted Phillips. "I knocked one over, andthat's more than you could do, Hayes."

  "Where is it, then?" asked his tormentor.

  "It slipped down a hole."

  "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Hayes and the two Coventrys.

  "That's enough," said Simpson, reprovingly. "I'll bet Phillips didhis best."

  "Have you unloaded, young gentleman?" asked the farmer. "Always makesure you have no cartridges in your gun when you leave the warren.Bless me I'll tell ye how to knock over the rabbits, if you like."

  "You usually take a dog with you, don't you?" asked Phillips.

  "Yes, a dog will turn out any rabbit that is lying close. All thesame it isn't necessary. Now, I saw you going through the warren, andI said to myself, 'Sure he'll be main lucky if he gets a shot.' Youhave to stalk 'em. Keep dead against the wind, and have your gunready to let fly directly you see a movement in the bushes. You weregoing with the wind, and they know your scent. Coming back you walkedtoo quickly. It was only haphazard-like that you had a shot at one atall."

  "I believe I walked over a cave or something," said Phillips. "Iheard a funny sort of tapping noise."

  "Whereabouts?" asked several of the Scouts.

  "Right in the middle of the warren."

  "Don't you know?" asked the farmer. "That's the rabbits in theirholes giving warning to those in other burrows. They hit the groundwith their hind foot. When you hear that 'tain't much use to staythere: they won't come out again in a hurry."

  "I'll try again," said Phillips, giving a glance at the large ironpot that stood in a suggestive position close to the fire.

  Making a wide detour, he got to leeward of the warren, thenstealthily made his way against the wind. Before he had gone fiftyyards two young rabbits of fair size fell the victims of his gun.Three minutes later another excellent shot at sixty yards added athird to the Scout's bag.

  "It seems to me that I shall have to send Hayes to fetch them afterall," he mused, as he lifted the three dead rabbits. "They areheavy."

  Phillips waited a little longer to give the denizens of the warrentime to recover from their fright at the discharge of the gun, thenhe resumed his stealthy advance. Right ahead were the ruins of theold oratory. The Scout remembered that there was a fairly openexpanse on the other side where he had often seen the rabbitsfrisking in the sunshine.

  "I'll take cover in the ruins and see if I cannot get in adouble-barrelled shot," he said to himself, and with that object inview he crept up the slope on which the ruins stood.

  The remains of the chapelry consisted of three roofless walls withopen lancet windows. On the west side the masonry had been removed,several masses of stone lying in disorder all down the slope. Thewalls were destitute of foliage, not even so much as a tendril of ivysoftening the hard effects of the dark grey stone.

  Since by entering the building on the west side the Scout would haveto run the risk of being observed, Phillips decided to crawl throughone of the lancet windows, cross the dust-covered floor, and take upa favourable position at the window looking northward.

  The opening was narrow. Phillips just unloaded his gun, passed theweapon through, and then began to squeeze between the stonework. Ashe did so he was surprised to see a portion of the floor almostunderneath that window give an upward motion. The dust rose, and asthe slab fell there was a well-defined trace of the joint in thestonework.

  Again the slab trembled: it was being forced up from beneath.

  The Scout took in the situation at a glance. Quickly grasping hisgun, he dragged it through the window and propped it against theoutside wall, so that it could not be seen from within. Then removinghis hat, he peered between two displaced stones, and waited.

  He had not long to wait. With a lusty heave the stone rose andtoppled backwards, disclosing a circular cavity of about two feet indiameter. Out of the hole appeared the head and shoulders of a man.

  Placing his hands on the edge of the aperture, the fellow raisedhimself clear of the hole and stood blinking in the strong sunlight.

  "Golly! It's that chap Tassh. Whatever is his little game," thoughtPhillips.

  As soon as his eyes grew accustomed to the daylight, Tassh replacedthe stone, scattered dust over it, and stole to one of the windows inthe opposite wall to the one behind which th
e Scout was crouching.

  Looking in the direction of the camp, Tassh muttered an inaudibleexclamation, then bending low he crept across the fairly open spaceand gained the shelter of the gorge. Here he broke into a run, andwas soon lost to sight as he made off in the direction of the TeaCaves.

  "Atherton was right: that chap's up to mischief, I'll be bound,"thought Phillips. "Well, it's not much use my following him alone.He's making for the caves we explored the other day. I'll rout outSimpson and the 'Wolves,' and we can decide what's to be done."

  "I say, Simpson," he exclaimed breathlessly, as he reached the camp,"I've seen----"

  "Yes, seen--but how many did you shoot?" asked the Leader of the"Wolves." "We're waiting to dress the rabbits in time for our newScoutmaster."

  "They'll have to wait. I've knocked over three. But, I say, I've madea discovery. I've just seen Tassh crawl out of a secret tunnelopening into the old ruins."

  At this startling information the "Wolves" were in a state ofexcitement. Neale and Fraser proposed following the butler,surrounding him and peremptorily demanding an explanation of hissuspicious actions--a suggestion that the two Coventrys and Armstrongbacked up for all they were worth.

  "No, we must wait till we've spoken to Mr Buckley," said Simpson. "Wehave no authority to waylay the man. I'll tell you what we can do:we'll take possession of the ruins so that he cannot return to thecave or tunnel, whatever it is, without being seen. Hurry up, youfellows; get your staves. No shouting, mind. Double."

  It did not take the "Wolves" long to reach the ruins.

  "Where's the hole, Phillips?" asked several of the lads.

  Without replying, Phillips walked across to the concealed stone andswept away a layer of dirt and dust that Tassh had thrown over it.

  "Here you are; help me to heave it up," he said, as soon as theposition of the slab was disclosed. "Why, here's a ring let into thestone! Now, all together."

  Thrusting a staff through the rusty ring, the Scouts gave a combinedheave. The stone came up quite easily.

  "I might have known that," remarked Phillips to the Leader of the"Wolves." "Tassh pushed it up, and he does not look a particularlystrong man. But why is the lid so light in comparison with its size?"

  An examination revealed that the lid was deeply hollowed on the underside, so that its weight was hardly a quarter of what it would havebeen had the cavity not existed.

  "We must have walked over the stone dozens of times and not noticedit sounded hollow," said Hayes. "Now what are we going to do,Simpson?"

  "We'll just have a look at this hole or tunnel, whatever it is.Golly! Atherton's missed something by going off to meet theScoutmaster."

  "I wonder how deep it is," said Coventry minor, peering into the pitthat yawned at his feet. "There are no steps as far as I can makeout."

  "I can see a niche on your side, Coventry," announced Fraser. "Itlooks deep enough to get a good foothold."

  "Be careful, young Coventry," cautioned Simpson, as the lad sat downat the edge of the hole, turned face downwards and groped for theniche.

  "I'm used to it," replied Coventry minor, confidently. "Here'sanother one. It's quite easy."

  Phillips and the remaining "Wolves" watched the Scout make his wayfarther and farther down the shaft, till he had descended quite adozen of the rough footholds cut into the rock.

  "Haven't you got to the bottom yet, Coventry?" Simpson called out,with a tinge of anxiety in his voice. "You had better come back, andwe'll go to the camp and get some rope and candles."

  The Scout instantly began to retrace his footsteps. Possibly owing tothe fact that he had already performed the harder task of descending,he momentarily allowed his sense of caution to desert him. Thefingers of both hands simultaneously slipped from a lichen-coveredniche. He struggled desperately to recover his hold, and fell.

  The lads, gathered round the mouth of the pit, heard a stifled cryfollowed by a dull thud, then all was silent.

  "Off belts, lads," ordered Leader Simpson.

  In a few seconds a leathern rope, twenty feet in length, was made up.Simpson fastened one end round a staff which was held by four of theScouts, and threw the free end down the pit; then, withouthesitation, he grasped the improvised life-line and swung himselflightly over the edge.

  Simpson knew he could trust to these belts. They were not the cheapshoddy article, but well-made ones of well-seasoned leather. Thebuckles, too, were strong and reliable, so that the Leader of the"Wolves" had good cause to have perfect faith in the rope of belts.

  Hand over hand he descended, until he knew that he was literallyalmost at the end of his tether. Then, proceeding slowly andcautiously, and keeping his feet rigid, he continued his downwardcourse till his hand encountered the buckle joining the two lowermostbelts.

  "I must risk it and drop," he thought, finding himself unable totouch the side of the pit. "It cannot be so much farther to thebottom."

  Relaxing the muscles of his legs in order to bear the shock with theleast risk of broken limbs, Simpson released his hold and dropped--adistance of less than two feet. With a sigh of relief he drew a boxof matches from his pocket and struck a light.

  Lying almost at his feet was the unfortunate Coventry minor. The ladwas senseless and bleeding from a cut just above the left ear.

  There was no time to be lost. It was imperative that the lucklessScout should be brought up to the open air as quickly as possible.

  By the aid of another match, Simpson discovered the position of theline of niches. Then, unfastening the unconscious lad's belt, herefastened it round his chest just beneath his arm-pits. This done,the Leader clasped the buckle at the end of his emergency rope to thering in Coventry minor's belt.

  "Haul up, slowly and steadily!" he shouted.

  Ascending by means of the niches, Simpson accompanied his senselesscharge, steadying the lad's body to prevent it swaying against therock, till at length to his great relief Neale and Fraser grasped therescued Scout and grew him clear of the shaft.

  "Is he dead?" asked the unfortunate lad's brother, anxiously.

  "No, he's stunned. The sooner we get back to camp and fetch a doctorthe better, Hayes and Armstrong, cut off as fast as you can, take thesmall boat and row across to Polkerwyck and fetch Dr. Carraway. Leaveyour staves here. Now, 'Wolves,' form a stretcher."

  In remarkably quick time the stretcher, formed by means of staves,belts, and long stalks of bracken, was made, and in broken-step formthe Scouts carried their comrade towards the camp, Phillips walkingby the side to guard against the possibility of the patient fallingoff.

  Before they had covered half the distance, Phillips perceived hispatrol descending the road to Polkerwyck harbour.

 
Percy F. Westerman's Novels