With a grave expression of kindliness and humour the chief shook hands with the seaman. Then the captives all descended into the hole, which was not more than four feet deep, after which the Arab shut the trap, covered it as before with a little rubbish, and went away. "Suppose he has bolted the door!" suggested Moses. "Hold your tongue, man, and listen for the signal," said Miles. "I forget what he said the signal was to be," observed Simkin. "Guns--shoot--noise--after that silence!" said Armstrong. "It's a queer signal." "But not difficult to recognise when we hear it," remarked Miles. The time seemed tremendously long as they sat there listening--the cellar was too low for them to stand--and they began to fancy that all kinds of horrible shapes and faces appeared in the intense darkness around them. When they listened intensely, kept silent, and held their breath, their hearts took to beating the drums of their ears, and when a sudden breath or sigh escaped it seemed as if some African monster were approaching from the surrounding gloom. "Is that you, Simkin, that's breathin' like a grampus?" asked Molloy, after a long pause. "I was just goin' to ask you to stop snorin'," retorted the soldier. "Hush! There's a shot!" It was indeed a distant shot, followed immediately by several more. Then a rattle of musketry followed--nearer at hand. Instantly, as if the earth had just given birth to them, the host of dusky warriors sprang up with yells of surprise and defiance, and, spear in hand, rushed in the direction of the firing. For a few minutes the listeners in the cellar heard as it had been a mighty torrent surging past the ruined hut. Gradually the force of the rush began to abate, while the yells and firing became more distant; at last all sounds ceased, and the listeners were again oppressed by the beating on the drums of their ears. "They're all gone--every mother's son," said Molloy at last, breaking the oppressive silence. "That's so," said Rattling Bill; "up wi' the trap, Miles. You're under it, ain't you? I'm suffocating in this hole." "I'm not under it. Molloy came down last," said Miles. "What if we can't find it?" suggested Stevenson. "Horrible!" said Moses, in a hoarse whisper, "and this may be a huge cavern, with miles of space around us, instead of a small cellar!" "Here it is!" cried the sailor, making a heave with his broad back. "I say--it won't move! Ah, I wasn't rightly under it. Yo! heave-o!" Up went the door with a crash, and the soft moonlight streamed in upon them. A few seconds more and they stood outside the hut--apparently the only living beings in all that region, which had been so full of human life but a few minutes before. "Now we must lose no time in getting away from this place, and covering as much of the desert as we can during the night," said Miles, "for it strikes me that we'll have to lie quiet during the day, for fear of being seen and chased."