"Old 'Grumpah' says it is only five miles further on," he whispered.
For some time they had been following quite a distinct path, and now it was better going. In a little over an hour, Gifford, who had forged ahead, uttered a shout that startled some great billed birds squawking out of the tree-tops.
"By George," the Englishman exclaimed, "the old fellow has not lied! Here is the place."
It was evident that a clearing had been made, and at the foot of a great white-trunked tree a mound could be seen covered and grown with underbrush, but hanging from the branch of a tall bush was a strange object. It was an ordinary gin bottle with a label blown into the glass, and on another branch hung a dinner-bell with the clapper removed. Gifford struck the bell with the point of his rifle--it tinkled musically in the silence, and he said, "Come in," jocosely. Mr. McFee's eyes, however, were shining like coals; he removed his coat and laid about him with an axe, cutting away the shrubbery and clearing up the ground. Evidently the mound had been made by hands--no mistaking that.
"Ask him how deep it is," Mr. McFee said, eagerly, driving the point of a pickaxe into the earth.
"The depth of four men!" returned Gifford--"less than thirty feet. How long will it take us?"
"Four days at the most," he said, "if it is easy digging. But now let us go at it right and dig it well fashion. We must make a windlass."
Even before dark--and it grows dark very suddenly in the African forest--a rough winch had been constructed from the trunk of a tree; with the aid of the iron bolts it was strongly held together, and handles were placed on each end, so they could be worked the way a bucket is lowered and raised in a mine shaft. By noon the next day all this was completed and the digging fairly commenced. When they had gone down some ten feet or more, and it became difficult to throw up the spadefuls of the black rich earth, the windlass was placed in position, a basket constructed with the aid of twigs and vines, and the two negroes were set to work hauling the earth to the surface as the white men below filled the improvised carrier. Malcolm's back ached from the constant bending and lifting, but his father labored as might a fireman in a burning house, and Gifford, stripped to the waist and dripping with perspiration like a stoker, delved with the strength of two men. Twenty feet, twenty-five feet, thirty feet were reached, and the only encouraging thing about it was that there were signs that the earth had been disturbed before them.