m above, to aid in grinding the walls quite smooth.

But there was the possibility of the unfortunate man being thrown into
one of the vast pot-holes or cauldrons formed cavern-like in bends of
the chasm, where as it rushed along past the zigzag of the broken rock
the water glanced from one side, and shot almost at right angles across
to the other, to whirl round and round, ever enlarging a great well-like
hole, the centre of which looked like a funnel-like whirlpool, with the
water screwing its way apparently into the bowels of the earth, and down
whose watery throat great balls of foam were constantly being sucked.

From time to time, as Dale rested for a few moments to peer into one of
these, he raised his eyes to look back hopelessly at Saxe, who could
only shake his head in his utter despair, knowing only too well that it
was hopeless.

Then on and on again, with the horror of the terrible place seeming to
crush them down, while to Saxe it was as if the waters were trying to
leap at him to wash him from the narrow ledge and bear him away. And
the farther they went on the more fearful the place seemed to grow. The
walls dripped with moisture, as a result of the spray which rose from
the hurrying race, and shut them in back and front with a gloomy mist,
which struck cold and dank as it moistened their faces and seemed
choking to breathe.

Again Dale paused, to peer down at one of the great whirling pools
beneath the rock, which was being undermined in this place more than
ever; and as Saxe clung by him and gazed down too, there was the
perfectly round pool of water, with its central pipe, which, by the
optical illusion caused by the gloom and mist, looked reversed--that is,
as if the concavity were convex, and he were gazing at the eye of some
subterranean monster, the effect being made more realistic by the rock
overhanging it like a huge brow.

"Come on," cried Dale. But Saxe was fascinated, and did not hear his
voice in the hollow, echoing, pipe-like roar.

"Come on, boy--quick!" he shouted again. But Saxe still bent down over
the racing waters, to stare at that awful similitude of an eye, which
moved strangely and bemused and fascinated him so that he looked as if
he would be drawn down into it and be a victim to the awful place.

"Saxe! Saxe!" shouted Dale, seizing him by the arm; and the boy started
and gazed at him wildly. "Can you see him!"

"No, no," cried the boy.

"What were you looking at!