I had gripped One Eye's left arm while Holman was making the examination
of the passage, and we had not proceeded more than twenty yards when he
intimated that he wished to turn to the right. We allowed him to do so,
and for fully twenty minutes he followed a zigzag course that left us
completely nonplussed as to the way we had come. We could hardly count
the number of the turnings. First to the right, then to the left, then
back again toward the mouth of the place, he trotted forward with
nothing to guide him, yet when we checked him at certain corners to find
out if there was an angle in the path, we found that he was right in
every instance.
"He's counting the number of paces he takes between the turnings,"
muttered Holman. "No man, unless he had the eyes of a cat, could find
his way along this passage. Keep a grip on him or we'll never see
daylight again."
We guessed that we had walked for over half a mile when the guide
stopped abruptly. In the dark we endeavoured to find out what had pulled
him up short, but we tried in vain. A prick from Kaipi's knife blade
would not make him budge an inch, and we clustered together and racked
our brains to find the solution.
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