s; but presently the white hair, whiter from the
blackness of the bog between us, showed me that it was Uncle Reuben come
to look for me, that way. Then I left my chair of rock, and waved my hat
and shouted to him, and the sound of my voice among the crags and lonely
corners frightened me.

Old Master Huckaback made no answer, but (so far as I could guess)
beckoned me to come to him. There was just room between the fringe of
reed and the belt of rock around it, for a man going very carefully to
escape that horrible pit-hole. And so I went round to the other side,
and there found open space enough, with stunted bushes, and starveling
trees, and straggling tufts of rushes.

'You fool, you are frightened,' said Uncle Ben, as he looked at my face
after shaking hands: 'I want a young man of steadfast courage, as well
as of strength and silence. And after what I heard of the battle at Glen
Doone, I thought I might trust you for courage.'

'So you may,' said I, 'wherever I see mine enemy; but not where witch
and wizard be.'

'Tush, great fool!' cried Master Huckaback; 'the only witch or wizard
here is the one that bewitcheth all men. Now fasten up my horse, John
Ridd, and not too near the slough, lad. Ah, we have chosen our entrance
wisely. Two good horsemen, and their horses, coming hither to spy us
out, are gone mining on their own account (and their last account it is)
down this good wizard's bog-hole.'

With these words, Uncle Reuben clutched the mane of his horse and came
down, as a man does when his legs are old; and as I myself begin to do,
at this time of writing. I offered a hand, but he was vexed, and would
have nought to do with it.

'Now follow me, step for step,' he said, when I had tethered his horse
to a tree; 'the ground is not death (like the wizard's hole), but many
parts are treacherous, I know it well by this time.'

Without any more ado, he led me in and out the marshy places, to a great
round hole or shaft, bratticed up with timber. I never had seen the like
before, and wondered how they could want a well, with so much water on
every side. Around the mouth were a few little heaps of stuff unused to
the daylight; and I thought at once of the tales I had heard concerning
mines in Cornwall, and the silver cup at Combe-Martin, sent to the Queen
Elizabeth.

'We had a tree across it, John,' said Uncle Reuben, smiling grimly at my
sudden shrink from it: 'but some rogue came spying here, just as one of