For his greater convenience in assembling materials and tools, he placed both his torch and final burden for a moment within the passage, when he came once more to the cave. Three of the bamboo stems were then in the cavern proper, while all of the creeper and the other essentials remained on the gallery floor. He paused to wipe his brow, for he was sweating. His mouth was dry with a growing thirst that refused to be forgotten. He had barely stepped out to survey the space for the likeliest site convenient to his needs, when, abruptly, a human voice sent a murmurous echo through the hollow tomb. A sharp command immediately followed--all in some barbaric tongue. But before the noise of something dully scraping on the outside ledge could add its confirmation to the somewhat belated alarm, Grenville was certain that a Dyak boat had come to the cavern, and its crew were about to land. Instantly pouncing upon the nearest length of his precious bamboo, he darted with it to the passage. The second stem struck on the inner wall, not only delaying his movements, but sounding a thud that he felt must be heard through all the vast bulk of the hill. Yet he dared not either betray the fact he had been in the cave, or lose that final pole. Once more, as he heard the Dyaks coming, and even beheld a shadow, preceding its owner to the place, he darted silently out at his door to lay hold of the last remaining stem. He was certain its end must be plainly seen, as the Dyaks now rose above the ledge. A sound that he made seemed incredibly loud--and his door was out where the boatmen's torch must play a red light upon it! He stumbled across his materials, now congesting his narrow space. He thrust out an arm, laid hold of his door, and had barely drawn it across the opening when the glare of the torch the Dyaks held sent red rays in upon him. Not another move could he make without betraying his presence near at hand. To adjust the barrier solidly in place might readily prove fatal. To leave it loose, a palpable sham where all should appear as solid wall, was scarcely less of a risk. Holding it firmly, lest it slip, and peering breathlessly out through the chink which it failed by an inch to cover, Grenville beheld three half-naked forms, incredibly magnified and diabolized not only by the torch they held, but also by the shadows they cast upon the rocks, and the general aspect of the region, black as Inferno. Three thinner, more furtive fiends of the nether abyss would have been hard, indeed, to imagine. In the tallest Sidney recognized the chief. As they turned about to scan the wall, and the breach he had made with his explosion, the whites of their eyes and the gleam of their teeth rendered all of their faces strangely hideous, with the yellowish glare projecting them indistinctly against the ebon of the tomb.