did not affect Polly's imaginative contemplation, nor withhold the tears
that gathered in her round eyes.

Presently, the lids of the round eyes began to droop, the landscape
beyond began to be more confused, and sometimes to disappear entirely
and reappear again with startling distinctness. Then a sound of rippling
water from the little stream that flowed from the mouth of the tunnel
soothed her and seemed to carry her away with it, and then everything
was dark.

The next thing that she remembered was that she was apparently being
carried along on some gliding object to the sound of rippling water. She
was not alone, for her three companions were lying beside her, rather
tightly packed and squeezed in the same mysterious vehicle. Even in the
profound darkness that surrounded her, Polly could feel and hear that
they were accompanied, and once or twice a faint streak of light from
the side of the tunnel showed her gigantic shadows walking slowly
on either side of the gliding car. She felt the little hands of her
associates seeking hers, and knew they were awake and conscious, and
she returned to each a reassuring pressure from the large protecting
instinct of her maternal little heart. Presently the car glided into
an open space of bright light, and stopped. The transition from the
darkness of the tunnel at first dazzled their eyes. It was like a dream.

They were in a circular cavern from which three other tunnels, like the
one they had passed through, diverged. The walls, lit up by fifty or
sixty candles stuck at irregular intervals in crevices of the rock, were
of glittering quartz and mica. But more remarkable than all were the
inmates of the cavern, who were ranged round the walls,--men who, like
their attendants, seemed to be of extra stature; who had blackened
faces, wore red bandana handkerchiefs round their heads and their
waists, and carried enormous knives and pistols stuck in their belts.
On a raised platform made of a packing-box on which was rudely painted a
skull and cross-bones, sat the chief or leader of the band covered with
a buffalo robe; on either side of him were two small barrels marked
"Grog" and "Gunpowder." The children stared and clung closer to Polly.
Yet, in spite of these desperate and warlike accessories, the strangers
bore a singular resemblance to "Christy Minstrels" in their blackened
faces and attitudes that somehow made them seem less awful. In
particular, Polly was impressed with