uring his captivity a small
note-book and pencil. In this he kept a record of the journey, jotting
down each night the incidents of the day's cruise, and a page from this
diary will convey to the reader a clear idea of the uneventful manner in
which the first week passed away--a week in long-to-be-remembered
contrast to the dreadful period that followed.

_Third stage_.--Traveled all day on smooth water. Rocky shores. Camped
on an island. Could find no wood and slept in the dark.

_Fourth stage_.--Today we passed rocky islands in great profusion. Once
far overhead we saw a single gleam of light shining in from a crevice.
So far our calculation is correct. Day is day, and night is night.

_Fifth stage_.--Nothing important. Ran a few rapids and camped on the
right shore on a sandy beach.

_Sixth stage_.--All goes well. We are making many miles a day. The
current continues strong. Camped on flat rock in midstream.

_Seventh stage_.--Current still good. River very wide and obstructed
with rocks. Narrowly missed an upset several times.

_Eighth stage_.--Traveled rapidly. Camped on a big spit of sand on right
shore. Vast cavern behind us. Too sleepy to explore it.

Here the peaceful montony of the colonel's record ended. On this
sloping, sandy beach began the first of that string of adventures which
to their last moment will send a shudder through those who participated
in them.

As the colonel stated, they were so weary from the long day's journey
that no investigation was made of the vast cavern that lay behind them.

Guy advanced a few yards with his blazing torch.

"It probably terminates with a rocky wall," he said carelessly: "It's no
use looking into it tonight."

Sir Arthur suggested that it would be well to make sure that no danger
lurked in its darkness, but Guy handed him the torch and bade him go
satisfy himself. He very promptly declined the honor.

A meager supper was eaten, for already the stock of food showed a
perceptible diminution, and by common consent Guy began from that time
to serve out short rations.

A quantity of driftwood had been brought in the canoes from a previous
camping-place, and with this a small fire was built. In its cheerful
flickering glow they fell asleep, and an hour later a faint gleam from
the charred embers was all that relieved the darkness of the cavern.

When Sir Arthur Ashby turned uneasily on his rugs some time afterward,
even this feeble light was gone. The ex-