“Why!” said Iason, leaning both hands on the top of the rock, and bending his whole body round the corner, “why it is ….”
And it was. When they all clambered on the big rock and slipped down to the other side, they found Iason lifting up with all his strength a tangled mass of wild ivy and other creepers which fell over it like a thick curtain. And there was a hole; big enough for anyone to pass through if he stooped a little.
It looked dark inside, and there was a step going down.
“No one need come,” said Iason, “if he feels afraid!”
And of course everyone said, “I am not afraid!” Pavlo first of all. And he really and truly was not. He was far too excited to think of being afraid.
The children went down two steps, bending their heads low, and then stood upright.
They were in a high narrow cave; so long that it was impossible to tell the depth. A cave like those of which they had often read, and often dreamt of discovering, but in which they had very certainly never before found themselves.
“It is quite a real cave!” said Nikias in an awestruck whisper. And the others looked round in silence. It seemed a moment too great for ordinary words. Their adventurous hearts were beating quickly.
Then Iason triumphantly produced a bit of candle and a box of matches from his pocket, and when he lighted it the tiny flame cast rounds of light and mysterious shadows over rough gray walls. This was for the first moment after coming in from the blinding sunlight, but as soon as their eyes got accustomed to the green darkness, Iason threw the candle away and the flame sputtered as it fell into the little stream of water which seemed to trickle down one end of the cave near the wall. The whole place smelt rather nasty and musty, but as Chryseis said,—
“What do smells matter when we have found a real cave?”