“What do you think of it?” cried Panton.
“Wet, dark, and creepy,” said Oliver, as he listened to a peculiar whispering noise made by the water as it glided along in its stone canal, the sound being repeated in a faint murmur from the sides and top.
Then scritch-scratch and a flash of light which sank and then rose again, as the splint of wood, whose end Smith had struck, began to burn strongly.
“Now, Billy! Candleses!” cried the sailor, and light after light began to burn, showing the shape of the place—a fairly wide rift, whose sides came together about twenty feet overhead. The floor was wonderfully level and some forty feet wide, the stream being another nine or perhaps but eight, but widening as it went on.
As soon as the candles were lit Smith held up three, and Wriggs two, right overhead, so as to illuminate the place, and Oliver and Drew gazed with a feeling of awe at the sloping sides which glistened with magnificent crystals, many of which were pendent from sloping roof and sides, though for the most part they were embedded in the walls.
“Well, is that wet, dark, and creepy?” cried Panton.
“It is very wonderful,” replied Drew. Oliver said nothing, for he was peering right before him into the darkness, and trying to master a curious feeling of awe.
“This is something like a find,” cried Panton, triumphantly.
“How far does it go in?” said Oliver, at last.
“Don’t know. We are going to explore.”