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CHAPTER XXII. 



CAVE-HUNTING. 



There was one hole among the rocks which 

 Grip could never resist visiting in our morning 

 walks. Its entrance was hidden by weeds 

 and brambles, and was far down at the base 

 of a towering limestone escarpment. I had 

 generally to wait a long time for Gip, and 

 when he deigned to return he was in a most 

 disreputable condition. His nose and feet, as 

 well as his shaggy coat, were covered with 

 red loam, and at last I bethought me to see 

 what so persistently attracted him. 



Brushing away the weeds, I saw that Gip's 

 hole was really a considerable fissure which 

 extended far back into the limestone. In 

 scratching the floor of the crevice he had dis- 

 interred several bones, the appearance of which 



