ll our movements with anxiety. A hollow stone which
l'Encuerado had found was filled with fat, a morsel of linen served as a
wick, and our make-shift lamp soon burned and gave forth light.

As the branches which were to serve as torches were being distributed, I
noticed that a yellow and transparent drop had formed at the end of
each. This gum, by its odor and color, has given to the tree which
produces it the name of _liquid amber_. At last, followed by my
companions, I entered the cave; l'Encuerado placed the lamp on the edge
of the pit, and the bats which had been disturbed the evening before
again commenced their whirling flight.

Preceded by Sumichrast, I ventured down to the bottom of the pit. A
narrow passage led from it into a vast chamber, the more distant parts
of which we could not discern on account of the darkness. While my
friend was exploring, I returned for Lucien. The lamp, thanks to the
Indian's skill, was safely let down without extinguishing the light;
lastly l'Encuerado himself made his appearance. Passing along the narrow
passage, I soon perceived Sumichrast, who looked like some fantastic
apparition as he shook his torch over his head, endeavoring to see
through the darkness which enveloped us.

The lamp being set down at the entrance of the passage, each of us took
a lighted torch, and advanced at a slow pace. Sumichrast and the Indian
skirted the wall to the left, while I walked along the wall to the
right. Our smoky torches gave but an imperfect light, and we could
scarcely see beyond three yards in front of us. A little farther on, the
ground was strewn with fallen stones; before venturing on this dangerous
ground, I cast a glance towards my companions; they were not in sight. I
gave them a call--a formidable clamor resounded through the chamber, and
Lucien crept close to me.

"It is the echo returning to our ears Sumichrast's answer," I hastened
to tell him. "They are in another chamber; you call them now!"

The boy, agitated, raised his voice. Immediately the dark vaults seemed
to repeat his words; and the sound increased, as it moved away, as if a
thousand persons, placed at intervals, were repeating some watch-word. A
sonorous "Hiou! hiou!" prevailed over the uproar, and the face of
l'Encuerado appeared on our right before the echo of the call had died
away.

"Come and see a beautiful church!" cried the Indian. "A church made of
diamonds, Chanito!"

We moved towards the entrance by