ople commonly
say when they mean cowardice, which I did not possess. We stepped within
a narrow crevice of the great cliff. Moore lit a lantern and went in
advance; the negro followed with a flaring torch.

Suddenly an idea occurred to me, which I felt bound to communicate to
Moore. "My dear fellow," I said in a whisper, "is this quite
sportsmanlike? You know you are after some treasure, real or imaginary,
and, I put it to you as a candid friend, is not this just a little bit
like poaching? Your brother's land, you know."

"What I am looking for is in my own land," said Moore. "The river is the
march. Come on."

We went on, now advancing among fairy halls, glistering with stalactites
or paved with silver sand, and finally pushing our way through a
concealed crevice down dank and narrow passages in the rock. The
darkness increased; the pavement plashed beneath our feet, and the drip,
drip of water was incessant. "We are under the river-bed," said Moore,
"in a kind of natural Thames Tunnel." We made what speed we might
through this combination of the Valley of the Shadow with the Slough of
Despond, and soon were on firmer ground again beneath Moore's own
territory. Probably no other white men had ever crawled through the
hidden passage and gained the further penetralia of the cave, which now
again began to narrow. Finally we reached four tall pillars, of about
ten feet in height, closely surrounded by the walls of rock. As we
approached these pillars, that were dimly discerned by the torchlight,
our feet made a faint metallic jingling sound among heaps of ashes which
strewed the floor. Moore and I went up to the pillars and tried them
with our knives. They were of wood, all soaked and green with the
eternal damp. "Peter," said Moore, "go in with the lantern and try if
you can find anything there."

Peter had none of the superstitions of his race, or he would never have
been our companion. "All right, massa; me look for Brer Spook."

So saying, Peter walked into a kind of roofed over-room, open only at the
front, and examined the floor with his lantern, stamping occasionally to
detect any hollowness in the ground.

"Nothing here, massa, but this dead fellow's leg-bone and little bits of
broken jugs," and the dauntless Peter came out with his ghastly trophy.

Moore seemed not to lose heart.

"Perhaps," he said, "there is something on the roof. Peter, give me a
back."

Peter stooped down beside o