the clefts before
mentioned retreated backward from the overhanging position of the
pillar. Into this he sprang at once, and was soon out of sight and out
of danger.

There is not a word of truth in all that story about our hauling him up
with ropes, and his fainting away so soon as he landed on the summit.
Those acquainted with the localities will at once perceive its
absurdity; for we were beneath the arch, and it is half a mile round to
the top, and for the most part up a rugged mountain. Instead of fainting
away, Mr. Piper proceeded down the hill to meet us and obtain his hat
and shoes. We met about half-way, and then he lay down for a few moments
to recover himself of his fatigue.

[Virginia possesses another marvel of nature's handiwork of
the same general character as the Natural Bridge, and of
which Mr. Pollard's description may here fitly be given.]

After progressing about three miles from the ford of the Clinch River,
and after having repeatedly crossed its crooked tributary, Stock Creek,
we come to a small mountain or globular hill which is our wondrous
destination, for here is the Natural Tunnel. There is nothing which
advertises in advance this great wonder, or in any way excites the
expectations of the traveller. There is a common road, from which we
depart a few hundred yards to make a half circuit of the base of the
mountain, that goes clean over the ridge, leading to a settlement some
miles farther, called Rye Cove, and which was once the abode of a
fierce Indian tribe. This main road goes over the arch of the tunnel,
furnishing a curious convenience to the traveller, of which he would be
unaware, seeing nothing through the foliage but glimpses of the mural
rocks that guard and sustain the termination of the secret passage-way
many hundred feet below him. It is from this convenience that the
neighboring people name the gigantic work of nature we are proceeding to
explore a natural bridge. But this name is certainly insufficient and
paltry for a rock-work that on one flank at least extends some eight
hundred feet, and which, if regarded with reference to the breadth of
the interval it spans, is, in fact, a complication of bridges, arranged,
as we shall presently see, in one single massive spectacle.

The western face of the tunnel, near which we dismount, continues partly
concealed from view, or is imperfectly exposed, until we nearly approach
it, the immense rock which is perforated