There were faint indications of mosses in one or two places, and on sounding them he came upon one large rock that did not seem so firm as the others.
Holding his candle closer, he saw what might have been cement or something of the kind, and with a throbbing heart he drew a stout burglar's jimmy from his bag and began prying into a seam.
It was a powerful tool, worked by a powerful man, and soon the rock, which was fully two feet square, but of irregular shape, began to show signs of getting loose.
"Ah! this must be it," said he, as he saw bits of cement crumble and fall.
But it was no child's-play to move that stone, weighing, as it probably did, five hundred pounds, and held by the cement that had hardened for more than thirty years.
Little by little, however, he worked one end of it partially free, and saw that it stood out at least three inches beyond where it was, and in addition to this, the cement had now lost its hold, and with one powerful last effort the rock fell with an echoing thud some three feet to the bottom of the cave.
Within there was a rough chamber, five or six feet in irregular diameter every way; and if this was the Devil's Cave, as it was called, this one must surely have been his oven, so very like one was it.
Reaching in to allow his candle to light the place, he saw numerous bags, made of reindeer hide tanned without removing the hair.
"Thank heaven I have found it! Batavsky was as true as steel, and I will be true to his memory!" said Barnwell, holding the candle aloft.
It was fully a minute before he could summon sufficient courage to proceed further, so startled were his nerve over the sudden fruition of his hopes.