eft by the old inhabitants were the same:
broken earthenware and the much-worn little hand-mills used for some
kind of grain, all showing that every terrace had been occupied by rows
of narrow dwellings, safe havens that could easily be defended from
attack by an enemy; for, if the lowest terrace had been mastered, the
people had but to block up the chimney-like approach to the next terrace
after fleeing thereto, and defy their foes, whose only chance of gaining
the mastery was by starving out those in possession.

Sir Humphrey pointed this out to the others as they climbed higher and
higher; but he was directly afterwards somewhat nonplussed by a question
put by the captain--one which was unanswerable. It was simply this:

"How do you suppose the besieged people would get on for water?"

The party were nearing the top at last, having, as far as they could
make out, only six more terraces to mount, when, as they paused,
breathless and covered with perspiration and dust, for a few minutes'
rest, they heard a peculiar sound, which came from the direction of the
end of the terrace nearest to the great central part.

"Why, it must be water falling somewhere right in the cliff," cried
Brace; and, forgetting his breathlessness, he hurried along over the
crumbling stones and dust in the direction from which the sound seemed
to come.

"It comes from out of here," said Lynton, who was first to arrive at the
end of the terrace, and he stopped at one of the familiar open doorways
and listened.

There was no mistaking the sound now; it was the hollow echoing noise of
water falling into some reservoir in the interior of the cliff; and,
upon passing in, they found that, instead of this being one of the
ordinary cells, it was the entrance to a wide passage, apparently
leading right into the bowels of the mountain.

"Mind how you go," cried Lynton, as Brace stepped boldly in.

"Hullo! what have you found?" cried Briscoe, who came next to Lynton.
"Water? Why, they must have dug out a great cistern or reservoir in
here, and let in a spring from somewhere above."

"I say, do mind how you go," cried Lynton excitedly. "It's getting dark
there, and you may slip down into some awful well-like hole."

"All right," said Brace confidently. "I'm feeling my way every step
with the butt of my gun, and I can see yet."

"Precious awful-looking place," said Briscoe. "Here, we must have
lights. Stop him, Lynton: he shan't go a step fo