orest so dense that we could scarcely make our way. At last we reached
a path, and this brought us before long to a roughly-constructed
log-hut. This, I was told, was the "summer hotel." Further on there
were a few more log-huts, the "dependence" of the hotel itself. The
bathing season was over, so hosts and guests had alike departed. This
must be "roughing it" with a vengeance, I should say; but my guide told
me that very "high-born" people came here to be cured.

It is a favourite place, too, for some who desire the last cure of all
for life's ills; a single breath of the gaseous exhalations is death.
One cleft in the hill is called the "Murderer;" so fatal are the fumes
that even birds flying over it are often known to drop dead! The
elevation of Mount Buedos is only 3800 feet; there are several caves
immediately below the highest point. The principal cave is ten feet high
and forty feet long, the interior being lower than the opening. A
mixture of gases is exhaled, which, being heavier than the atmosphere,
fills it up to the level of the entrance; and when the sun is shining
into the cave, one can see the gaseous fumes swaying to and fro, owing
to the difference of refraction.

I experienced a sensation which has often been noticed here before. On
entering the cave, and standing for some minutes immersed in the gas,
but with my head above it, I had the feeling of warmth pervading the
lower limbs. I might have believed myself to be in a warm bath up to
the chest. This is a delusion, however, for the gaseous exhalation is
pronounced by experimenters to be cooler, if anything, than the air; I
suppose they mean the air of an ordinary summer day. The walls of the
cave arc covered with a deposit of sulphur, and at the extreme end drops
of liquid are continually falling. This moisture is esteemed very highly
for disease of the eyes; it is collected by the peasants. The gas-baths
are resorted to by persons suffering from gout or rheumatism. They are
taken in this manner: The patient wears a loose dress over nothing else,
and arriving at the mouth of the cave, he must take one long breath.
Instantly he runs into the dread cavern, remaining only as long as he
can hold his breath; he then rushes back again. One single inhalation,
and he would be as dead as a door-nail! How the halt and lame folk
manage I don't know, but my guide was eloquent about the wonderful cures
that are made here every year.

There are a variety of min