At the entrance of this small valley, Mr. Stockmoor bade us dismount, and gave us full leave to remain as long as we liked. He had to stay in charge of the horse, while we explored; but we were not to be in any haste. If the directions given by himself failed to be sufficient, a woman from a cottage at the upper end would act as our guide.
"Don't let us have a guide. Much better fun to hunt out things for ourselves," Thyrza said, and we plunged into the wooded ravine.
There was a lesser hole, as well as the greater Gurglepool, Mr. Stockmoor said, his description therein agreeing with Nona's. We came upon this lesser hole first,—a mysterious cleft in the earth, slanting downward to unknown black regions, paved with loose stones which doubtless act often as the bed of a watercourse. They looked only damp yesterday. Rocks rose high around the sloping mouth, and shrubs grew thickly thereupon. Thyrza and I climbed to a good position for kneeling on the edge and peering over. The sight was altogether weird. I flung a stone down, and it rattled onward in a slow descent, quite two or three seconds after disappearing from sight. Whether it then reached the bottom, or whether sound merely ceased because deadened by distance, we could not tell.
"Looks like a pathway that might lead to the centre of the earth," Thyrza said. "Or like the entrance to some underground giant castle. Miss Con, haven't you had enough? Come and see if Gurglepool itself is different."
I had not had enough, but Mr. Stockmoor was waiting. So we went on through the wild little valley, presently mounting one of its grassy sides, till we reached Gurglepool.
Neither of us said anything at first. We only stood still near the edge, gazing. Thyrza slipped one arm through mine, and I felt her give a shudder.
Gurglepool is really a circular hole,—of what diameter I do not know, but I should guess it to be about thirty feet across: and I am told that it is sixty or seventy feet in depth, not counting the dark still pool of water at the bottom, usually some twenty-five feet deep. An underground stream flows in and out of that pool, not visibly stirring its surface. So, of all awful places to fall into—! I could not help this thought arising, as I looked.
The sides of the hole are rocky, and precipitously steep, except on one side, where a path descends sharply to the margin of earth beside the pool: not a very inviting path, albeit rendered fairly safe by a rough wooden hand-rail, reaching from above to below.
The woman from the cottage, spoken of by Mr. Stockmoor, came up, and told us more about the strange place. Sheep wandering round have often fallen in and been drowned. She spoke of it with dread for her own children, living so near. There has been talk of putting a wall or fence round the opening. This would, I suppose, somewhat spoil the general appearance, but it would be safer. I thought of Denham and the girls, and wished the precaution had been taken.
In very wet weather the water in the pool rises higher and higher, rushing often round and round, like liquid in a pot stirred by a spoon, and sometimes boiling over, so to speak, upon the surrounding grass. It must be a strange sight then. But when the girls come, I shall come too. That I am determined on.