quality, but that the ammunition was equally so, and the slight moisture
that characterized the atmosphere of the cave had not been sufficient to
injure the charge. It seemed as if he had fired a cannon, the echoes
rolling, doubling, and repeating on themselves in the most bewildering and
terrifying fashion.

Fred could not understand how it was that such a pandemonium of sound
could escape filling the subterranean world from one end to the other, and
so he sat down on a ledge of rock to listen for some reply from his
friend.

It was several seconds before the trickeries of nature, in the way of
echoes, terminated and matters settled down to their natural quiet. And
then, when quiet came again, it was like that of a tomb--deep, profound,
and impressive. The bent and listening ear could detect nothing that could
be supposed to resemble the noise of the cascade, which had excited his
wonder when he was stretched out upon the ground directly above it.

"This must be about forty miles round," he said to himself, when he had
waited for the reply until convinced that it was not forthcoming, "and I
have strayed away altogether."

The luxury of rest was so great, after his long, wearying toil, that he
concluded that he might as well spend a half hour in that fashion as in
any other. The echoes and pains of his bruises had departed,--or, more
properly, perhaps they were consolidated with the aches and pains
following upon the overtaxing of his limbs.

"Oh, dear! How tired I am!" he sighed, as he stretched out his limbs. "It
seems to me that I won't be able to walk again for a week. I must rest