was well enough for our purpose. In the warm sunshine of the October
afternoon we glided gently down the quiet stream, which is very deep,
but so clear that you can see all the water-plants which revel in it,
down to the sand and pebbles. Near the banks we passed over masses of
watercress, and what might be likened to floating fields of lilies and
pond-weed.

It needed no little reflection and expenditure of art to insert the
prow of the boat into the mouth of the cavern. What an ugly and
uninteresting hole I then thought it! Having run the punt as far as we
could into the opening, there still remained about six feet of water
to cross before reaching the sandy mud beyond. A plank, however, that
we brought with us served as a bridge. The story of the otters was no
fable, for here were the footprints of the beasts all over the mud. We
lighted candles and looked into the hole. The ground rose and the roof
descended, so that to enter it was necessary to lie perfectly flat,
and to crawl along by a movement very like that of swimming; then the
passage became so small that there was only room for one to go at a
time. Neither of us was ambitious to go first, for there was just a
chance of an otter seizing the invader by the nose; but neither liked
to show the white feather. Each in turn went in a few yards, planted a
lighted candle in the mud, and then found some pretext for returning.
The hot air of the cavern was almost suffocating, and one felt so
helpless flattened against the earth, with the rock pressing so tight
upon the back that even to wriggle along was difficult. 'Decros is a
native,' thought I, 'and he ought to be used to this kind of work. I
will let him understand that he is expected now to do his duty.' In he
went again, and planted another candle about a yard in front of the
last one. Then he stopped and fired a shot from the revolver that we
carried in turn for the otters, and the sound of the detonation seemed