It died away slowly, and a weird stillness fell after it.
Then came a low moaning cry, a cry that was human in its agony, and yet which had in it something so near the savage that even Wabigoon found himself trembling as he strained in futile effort to pierce the impenetrable gloom ahead.

Before the cry had lost itself in the distances of the cavern Mukoki was leading them on again.
Step by step they followed in the path taken by the strange light.

Rod knew that they were climbing a hill of sand, and that just beyond it they would see the light again, but he was not prepared for the startling suddenness with which the next change came.

As if a black curtain had dropped from before their eyes the three adventurers beheld a scene that halted them in their tracks.

A hundred paces away a huge pitch-pine torch a yard in length was burning in the sand, and crouching in the red glow of this, his arms stretched out as if in the supplication of a strange prayer, was John Ball! Just beyond him was the gleam of water, inky-black in the weird flickerings of the torch, and toward this John Ball reached out in his grief.