ountain of salt rock, which is constantly forming, and is
therefore a never-ending source of wealth. For centuries this mine has
been worked. The salt rock is quarried and carried out in the form of
rock-salt. Another method of obtaining salt is by conveying water into
the large, excavated chambers, drawing it off and boiling down when it
becomes impregnated. This water attracts and dissolves the saline
matter, but, as water cannot so affect the slaty portion of the rock, it
leaves it often in most fantastic shapes, sometimes as pillars or
depending, curtain-like sheets. These chambers kept full of water are
constantly changing their level on the withdrawal of the liquid. After
three or four weeks two feet of the roof will be found to have been
dissolved and two feet of _debris_ found upon the floor. Curiously
enough, this _debris_ in time acquires the property of the salt rock.
There are chambers above chambers, some of them five hundred yards in
circumference, and miles of galleries. One of these chambers, which was
illuminated, showed floor, walls, and ceiling of pure rock-salt, very
lovely in color, though not so brilliant as in the mine of Wieliczka,
which is likened to four subterranean cities, one below the other, hewn
from rose-colored rock. Samayana secured of our guide red, yellow, blue,
and purple specimens.

The miners are obliged to divest themselves of all clothing when at
their dangerous work, as any garment will so absorb the salt as to
become hard and brittle, tearing the skin painfully. They must be
relieved every few hours, and, though short-lived, they work for a
pittance an American laborer would scorn.

Descending a flight of steps after shooting the third shaft, we came
upon a scene which filled us with wonder. There, far down in the earth,
lay a tiny tranquil lake of inky blackness, its borders outlined with
blazing torches. At the extreme end were the entwined letters "F.J."
(Franz Joseph), gleaming in candle-lights, and over our heads the
miners' greeting, _"Glueck auf!"_ traced in fire. On the pink salt-rock
roof--the miners call it _der Himmel_--rested the fearful weight of the
superincumbent mountain. It was an awful thought, and the curate did not
hesitate an instant in seizing Elise's outstretched hand, as if she were
seeking, and he glad to give, a bit of comfort in this
strangely-impressive place. We entered a little boat waiting to take us
across the Salz Sea to the opposite shore. The