of more closely
examining that which we had but an imperfect view of. We therefore
set our Indian to work with his pick-axe, to widen the hole and make
a passage for us; his labour went on slowly, he struck his blows
gently and cautiously, so as to avoid a falling-in of the rock, which
would not only have marred our hopes, but would, besides, have caused
a great disaster. The vault of rocks suspended over our heads might
bury us all alive, and, as will be seen by the sequel, the precautions
we had taken were not fruitless. At the very moment when our hopes
were about to be realised,--the aperture being now wide enough
to admit of us passing through it--suddenly, and above our heads,
we heard a hollow prolonged rustling noise that froze us to death;
the vault had been shaken, and we dreaded its falling upon us. For a
moment, which seemed to us, however, very long, we were all terrified;
the Indian himself was standing as motionless as a statue, with his
hands upon the handle of his pick-axe, just in the same position as
he was when he gave his last blow. After a moment's solemn silence,
when our fright had a little subsided, we began to examine the nature
of the danger we had just escaped. Above our heads a long and wide
split ran along the vault to a distance of several yards, and, at
the place where it stopped, an enormous rock, detached from the dome,
had been most providentially impeded in its fall downwards by one of
the columns, which, acting as a sort of buttress, kept it suspended
over the opening we had just made. Having, after mature examination,
ascertained that the column and the rock were pretty solid, like rash
men, accustomed to daunt all danger and surmount any sort of obstacle
and difficulty, we resolved upon gliding one by one into the dangerous
yawning. Dr. Genu, who till then had kept a profound silence, on
hearing of our resolution was suddenly seized with such a panic fear
that he recovered his voice, imploring and begging of us to take him
out of the cavern; and, as if he had been suddenly seized with a sort
of vertigo, he told us, with interrupted accents, that he could not
breathe--that he felt himself as if he were smothering--that his heart
was beating so violently, were he to stay any longer amidst the dangers
we were running he was certain of dying from the effects of a rupture
of the heart. He offered all he possessed on earth to him who would
save his life, and with clasped hands he supplica