A large, almost circular, hole appeared in the cliff, and as we stood before it, there lay, a few feet beneath us, a pool of bright clear water. The roof of the hole pitched downward at a uniform slope to where it met the level of the water.
The deal was quickly arranged, and a lease of the water rights drawn up and signed.
I returned to Montreal and resumed my work.
But it was a matter of only a few weeks until I was again called to Trelane Valley. A letter from the railway company informed me that the supply of water in the spring had failed, and they wished to cancel the lease.
The letter invited me to come and see for myself, and a few days later I again stood at the mouth of the huge hole which opened into the upright face of the cliff.
But now the water had receded until, from the entrance, one could discern only a black pool, far underground. The hole in the cliff was now the entrance to a cave of impressive dimensions. The shaft pitched downward at a gentle slope, and I could see that the roof of the cave now hung clear, above the water.
Through mud and slime we waded along the floor of the cavern until we reached the water’s edge. Davis carried a flashlight, which he turned into the further depth. On the other side of the water the floor sloped upward until it became lost in the gloom beyond the reach of the light.
Somewhat past the opposite edge of the water, I made out two objects—bulky, and but dimly defined against the black floor.
“What do you think they are?” I asked Davis.
“Loose boulders—flaked off from above. Stones are always dropping from the roof of caves.”