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would not, I knew, arise for some hours. But there 

 was nothing for it but to bear with philosophy, not 

 only the cold but the pangs of hunger which now 

 attacked me. I made a futile search for fuel, but 

 there was nothing that would burn ; and having taken 

 a drink of whisky-and-water from my small flask, I 

 entered the cave to sleep. 



Now, caves have always had a peculiar attraction 

 for me since, as a boy, I read about Robinson Crusoe's 

 cave. You may recollect for you have doubtless 

 perused that interesting volume that when Crusoe 

 discovered his cave he penetrated to the far end of it, 

 and discerned in the gloom a pair of gleaming eyes ! 

 But Crusoe was a devout man rendered so by trial 

 and misfortune ; and being perfectly sure that the 

 devil could not lie concealed there, he investigated 

 the matter an fond, and as a result routed out an old 

 goat. So it befell me ! Investigating the depth of 

 my cave, I heard in the farthest corner a curious snort- 

 ing or breathing, and seemed to discern a dark form, 

 with the occasional gleam as of demoniacal eyes 1 Have 

 you ever experienced that curious sensation when 

 ' gooseflesh ' covers your body and the scalp seems 

 to be slowly lifted from your head? I felt it then, 

 and these truthful chronicles must record it. But the 

 feeling of fear, if such it were, was also accompanied 

 by one of anger a curious psychological combination 

 and I advanced with cocked carbine slowly towards 

 the object. There was a horrid snort, a bound, a 

 rush, and 



It was nothing more than a wild bull, which, more 

 fearful than I, avoided me and bounded out of the 

 cave. I rushed after it with the intention of bringing 



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