TIME'S FINGER 295 



disorder and confusion poor fragments of the frame- 

 work of man and harmless beasts, sharing a common 

 fate. 



Though fast a prisoner, nothing to live on but hope 

 and fresh air, a sense of relief, somehow, sometime, 

 established itself in my mind. Most of the significant 

 features of the adventure had been faithfully foretold 

 by Wylo the prickly bush, the snake (archetype of 

 the fiend), the mocking delusive stone, the stored bones 

 of man and beast all as he had described. He must 

 have known more than he had voluntarily told, and 

 assuredly would he come, when he would coo-ee, and I 

 would shout for very joy. In the meantime would I 

 possess my soul in patience and conserve all the strength 

 of my lungs and power of endurance. 



Just beyond the platform of ferns a splash of lovely 

 tints illuminated the edge of the time-recording shadow 

 the solar spectrum produced by the prism which had 

 beckoned from afar. Was there no escape from the 

 wizardry of the crystal ? No hope of evading comparison 

 of its beauty and permanence with the muddy and fleeting 

 passions of mankind ? Yet how fruitless its functions 

 to glorify for sons the intractable rock, and to leave it 

 ever unstained I For once in all the centuries may not 

 a human hand be interposed between those ineffectual 

 flames and the surly rock ? Cannot even that small 

 measure of space be overcome ? 



A few inches from the tips of my outstretched fingers 

 were the prismatic tints with which the crystal daily 

 registered the decline of the day; but not for all my 

 striving and all my wit could I get within reach. They 

 were as remote as the creating sun ! 



The narrowness of the cleft forbade effort to reach 

 down so that I might unlace my boots. There was but 

 one chance of deliverance the coming of Wylo. And 



