eared to be attracted by the
light of our lanterns. They were not pleasant-looking creatures, and if
the rats can find nothing else to eat, they must have an uncomfortable
life of it. The guide told us that the cave was not known to white men
until 1802, though he did not acknowledge that the natives were ignorant
of its existence. For many years no one could advance beyond three
miles from the entrance, further progress being stopped by a deep chasm
called the "Bottomless Pit." At length, however, a daring guide threw a
ladder over it, and thus getting across, he explored six more miles of
this underground region. A bridge has now been constructed, by which
people can pass over in perfect safety. He asserted that no dog would
willingly enter the cavern, and that although he had made the attempt
several times to induce his own faithful animal to follow him, the
creature had always run back howling with dismay. We readily believed
this, and for my part I felt oppressed with a sensation of awe I had
never before experienced, and which I can to this day vividly recollect.
I have since, more than once, visited that subterranean world, and
though aware that its dimensions are not so great as I then imagined,
and that there was no real danger to be apprehended, I have on each
occasion felt awestruck, though in a less degree than formerly.

My father and mother acknowledged that they were thankful when we
regained the upper world, and Uncle Denis gave a shout of satisfaction
as he inhaled the fresh air of heaven, while the black boys leapt and
laughed, and tumbled against each other, as they hurried off to harness
the horses to the waggon.

"Fine place dat, Caesar, for niggar to hide away if de white massa not
know it," observed Peter to his companion.

"Berry good for hide 'way, but bad for de food; nothing but rats and
crickets to eat dare."

Uncle Denis, jumping up on the box, shouted "Erin-go-bragh," and away we
dashed as fast as we had come. It was dark long before we reached the
farm; my mother appeared pretty well tired out. We remained a couple of
days more to recruit, and then set out on our return home. Uncle Denis
accompanied us part of the first day's journey.

"Keep clear of Master Silas Bracher," he observed as we were about to
part. "I have no wish to meet him again, for he is more likely to pick
a quarrel and send a bullet through a man's body than to do him any
good."

"I'll follow your advic