er we carried the little raft down to the water-side,
though not without several slips, launched it, and then placed upon it
our lights stuck in lumps of clay brought for the purpose.

The raft was about six feet long by four feet wide; the skins supporting
light sticks of bamboo well secured to them, and these in their turn
bearing cross pieces laid in their places, so that the light vessel's
deck, if I may call it so, was a sort of bamboo grating, upon which we
could sit, though standing would have been a puzzling gymnastic
exercise.

We were ready then at last; but now the same feeling seemed to pervade
both as we stood there on the rock gazing before us at the black arch,
through which, flowing easily, came the inky water. From where, from
what strange regions?

The Golden Magnet--by George Manville Fenn

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

THE WATERFALL.

I don't think many could have stood peering into that gloomy tunnel
without feeling something like a tremor of dread. However, I mastered
it at last, after asking myself the question, Was it wise to run such a
risk? The answer came in the shape of gold--it might be the passage to
traverse to arrive at inexhaustible treasure, and I turned to Tom.

"Are you ready?" I said.

"Yes, Mas'r Harry, I'm ready when I've lit my pipe," he said.

And coolly filling it and igniting it from the torch, he crept boldly on
to the little raft and took a bamboo, one of two cut on our way here, to
pole us along.

After placing our guns in safety upon a ledge of rock, I crept on too,
and the little raft swayed down heavily; but it was wonderfully buoyant,
and with our lights in front we prepared for our subterranean passage.

"All right, Mas'r Harry?"

"Yes," I replied.

And then we pushed off, poling ourselves along under the arch, the
rugged wall being easily reached on either side, the stream widening and
not being very rapid after we had passed the first dozen yards.

The navigation proved so easy that we were able to glance about at the
sides and roof, which often nearly touched us, compelling us to stoop,
while at other times the tunnel opened out and we seemed to be making
our way through a narrow lake. But it soon contracted again, and I
should think our onward progress must have been through the damp, dark,
winding way for quite a couple of miles; when, after seeing nothing but
shining, glistening rock above us for hours, we seemed to have come to
the end of our