y packed and squeezed in the same mysterious vehicle.
Even in the profound darkness that surrounded her, Polly could feel
and hear that they were accompanied, and once or twice a faint
streak of light from the side of the tunnel showed her gigantic
shadows walking slowly on either side of the gliding car. She felt
the little hands of her associates seeking hers, and knew they were
awake and conscious, and she returned to each a reassuring pressure
from the large protecting instinct of her maternal little heart.
Presently the car glided into an open space of bright light, and
stopped. The transition from the darkness of the tunnel at first
dazzled their eyes. It was like a dream.

They were in a circular cavern from which three other tunnels like
the one they had passed through, diverged. The walls, lit up by
fifty or sixty candles stuck at irregular intervals in crevices of
the rock, were of glittering quartz and mica. But more remarkable
than all were the inmates of the cavern, who were ranged round the
walls; men, who like their attendants, seemed to be of extra
stature; who had blackened faces, wore red bandanna handkerchiefs
round their heads and their waists, and carried enormous knives and
pistols stuck in their belts. On a raised platform made of a packing
box, on which was rudely painted a skull and cross bones, sat the
chief or leader of the band covered with a buffalo robe; on either
side of him were two small barrels marked "Grog" and "Gunpowder."
The children stared and clung closer to Polly. Yet, in spite of
these desperate and warlike accessories, the strangers bore a
singular resemblance to "Christy Minstrels" in their blackened faces
and attitudes that somehow made them seem less awful. In particular,
Polly was impressed with the fact that even the most ferocious had a
certain kindliness of eye, and showed their teeth almost
idiotically.

"Welcome," said the leader. "Welcome to the Pirate's Cave! The Red
Rover of the North Fork of the Stanislaus River salutes the Queen of
the Pirate Isle!" He rose up and made an extraordinary bow. It was
repeated by the others with more or less exaggeration to the point
of one humourist losing his balance!

"O, thank you very much," said Polly, timidly, but drawing her
little flock closer to her with a small protecting arm; "but could
you--would you--please--tell us--what time it is?"

"We are approaching the Middle of Next Week," said the leader,
gravely; "but wha