He had not been many minutes, however, in the blackness, when his quickened sense became aware of a light, reddish spot, which faintly glowed at some distance. This was the first sign of an encouraging nature he had experienced, and with a beating heart he proceeded to feel his way towards the bright indication.
Getting gradually accustomed to the dimness that surrounded him he suddenly discovered that he was opposed by a solid wall of rock, in the very centre of which the pale red glimmer still shone, like a star seen through a summer mist.
"The divil a use in my thravellin' any longer in that direction," said Terry, turning sharply round to retrace his steps, when to his amazement and consternation he encountered the same rocky barrier. Whichever way he looked all was alike, stern and impassable. He was enclosed within a stony wall, whose circumference was but little more than an arm's length, but whose height was lost in the unsearchable darkness.
"Musha, then, how the divil did I stumble into this man-thrap?" cried Terry, in consternation. "There's no way out that I can see, an' where the mischief the top of it is, is beyant my comprehendin'. Bedad, there's nothing for it but to thry an' climb up." So saying, Terry placed his foot upon what he supposed, in the uncertain light, was a bold projection of the rock, when down he stepped through it, and before he could recover his perpendicular, his body was half buried in the apparent wall.
"Be jabers, if it ain't more of their thricks—the never a rock's there, no more nor the briars was; they may make fools of my eyes, but they can't of my fingers, an' its thim I'll thrust to in future," said he; and so, keeping the light in view, he boldly dashed through all the seeming obstacles, and soon found himself once more in an open space. It was a kind of vaulted tunnel that he was now traversing, his onward path still in profound darkness, with the sole exception of the red light, which Terry imagined grew larger and more distinct, each step he took. A rush of warm air every now and then swept by him, and his tread echoed in the far distance, giving an idea of immense length.
Somewhat assured by the impunity with which he had already explored the enchanted districts, he was beginning to pick his way with freer breath, when his ears were smitten by a sound which sank his heart still deeper. It was the loud and furious barking of a pack of evidently most ferocious dogs, which approached rapidly, right in his path. On came the savage animals, louder and louder grew their terrible bark, and Terry gave himself up for lost in good earnest. It was no use to turn about and run, although that was his first impulse; so, flinging himself down on the ground, he awaited the attack of his unseen foes. He could now hear the clatter of their enormous paws, while their growlings echoed through the cavern like thunder.
"Murdher an' nouns, there's a half a hundred of them, I know there is; an' it's mince-meat they'll make of me in less than no time," cried Terry, mumbling all the prayers he could remember, and in another instant, with a tremendous roar, they were upon him, and, with stunning yells, swept over him as he lay; but not an atom did he feel, no more than if a cloud had passed across.
"If they're not at it again, the blaggards," said he, getting up, and shaking himself; "the divil a dog was there in the place at all—nothin' but mouth—but, by dad, there's enough of that to frighten the sowl out of a narvous Christian;" and once more the bold Piper started in pursuit of the coveted light. He had not proceeded very far, before he heard the distant bellowing of a bull; but, warned by his past experience, he shut his ears against the sound, and although it increased fearfully, as though some mad herd were tearing down upon him, he courageously kept on. To be sure, his breath stopped for a moment, and his pulse ceased to beat, when the thing seemed to approach his vicinity, but, as he anticipated, the terror fled by him as he stood up erect, with the sensation, only, of a passing breeze.
Terry received no further molestation, but plodded along quietly until he came right up to the place from whence the light proceeded which had hitherto guided him, and here a most gorgeous sight presented itself to his enraptured gaze.
Within a luminous opening of the cave he saw groups of living atomies, all busied in the formation of the various gems for which the rich ones of the world hunger. In one compartment were the diamond-makers; in another, those who, when finished, coated them over with the rough exterior which they hoped would prevent them from being distinguished from common pebbles. Here was a tiny multitude, fashioning emeralds of astonishing magnitude; there, a crowd of industrious elves, putting the last sparkle into some magnificent rubies.