So the Ork started off ahead, quite in the dark, and hand in band the two followed him.
When they had walked in this way for a good long time the Ork halted and demanded food.

Cap'n Bill had not mentioned food because there was so little left--only three biscuits and a lump of cheese about as big as his two fingers--but he gave the Ork half of a biscuit, sighing as he did so.

The creature didn't care for the cheese, so the sailor divided it between himself and Trot.

They lighted a candle and sat down in the tunnel while they ate.
"My feet hurt me," grumbled the Ork.

"I'm not used to walking and this rocky passage is so uneven and lumpy that it hurts me to walk upon it." "Can't you fly along ?" asked Trot.
"No; the roof is too low," said the Ork.
After the meal they resumed their journey, which Trot began to fear would never end.