But, just as he was yielding to it, the
thought came to him that, by the settling of the clay, washed in, the
lower orifice was likely to be obstructed. All passage for the outer
air would be closed. Within, the respiration of ten persons would soon
vitiate the air by loading it with carbonic acid.
Dick Sand then slipped to the ground, which had been raised by the
clay from the first floor of cells.
That cushion was still perfectly dry, and the orifice entirely free.
The air penetrated freely to the interior of the cone, and with it
some flashes of lightning, and the loud noises of that storm, that a
diluvian rain could not extinguish.
Dick Sand saw that all was well. No immediate danger seemed to menace
these human termites, substituted for the colony of newroptera. The
young novice then thought of refreshing himself by a few hours' sleep,
as he already felt its influence. Only with supreme precaution Dick
Sand lay on that bed of clay, at the bottom of the cone, near the
narrow edifice.
By this means, if any accident happened outside, he would be the first
to remark it. The rising day would also awaken him, and he would be
ready to begin the exploration of the plain.
Dick Sand lay down then, his head against the wall, his gun under his
hand, and almost immediately he was asleep.
Pages:
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324