294 TROPIC DAYS 



and the birds '-nests were big enough to conceal a man. 

 A broad and comfortable path it was, leading directly 

 under the crystal, and with haste and confidence I 

 pushed along, smiling inwardly at "shynynge" fortune, 

 to be in another moment dismayed by her "brutilness." 

 The earth sank under me. I shot into an acute fissure 

 with ferns and dust piled overhead ! 



Gasping and coughing, I cleared away the smothering 

 rubbish, to find myself a fixture — jambed fast between 

 walls of granite. Deceptive ferns had masked the crevice. 

 I had walked along a treacherous track until at a weak 

 spot it had given way as the gallows' trap beneath the feet 

 of a murderer. 



Light came from ahead, too. There the lancehead- 

 shaped fissure opened on the ravine, whence it was 

 flushed with cool air. 



Was ever mortal in such a plight ? A drop of eight 

 feet from the spacious top of the mountain had lodged 

 me a prisoner in the narrowest of cells. Dismayed 

 but not despairing, I struggled frantically, working with 

 shoulder and arms against the walls of granite. The 

 right foot was firmly fixed, while a sensation of easiness 

 was perceptible with regard to the left. Gently yet 

 firmly, and fearful lest the slight grain of comfort might 

 be fraudulent, I felt the weight of my bod}' on the left 

 foot, while scrutinising in detail the horrible trap into 

 which the crystal bait had lured me. 



There, a few feet below and further towards the 

 ravine, was the skull of a human being, and still further 

 down, where space was more confined, other bones were 

 fixtures. There was a weird fascination about the skull, 

 for at noon it would receive the benediction of the sun, 

 and the diurnal glare into the secrets of the crevice had 

 made a patch of white desert in an oasis of grey mould. 

 The bones below, green and earthly with age, lay in 



