to the foot of the mountain, which, at this point, was rocky and
covered with a plentiful growth of white pine, hemlock and black
spruce. Hidden behind an irregular heap of boulders and a small timber
foreground was a cave, formed by nature and nature's anarchistic
elements, that could not fail to delight the most fastidious
wonder-seeker. The entrance was about the size of an ordinary doorway,
flanked by twin boulders like columns for an arched shelter. Within
was a large room with fairly smooth walls and ceiling of Silurian rock
and sandstone.

The cave as it now appeared would hardly have been recognized by its
aboriginal frequenters. It had been converted into a place of civil
abode or resort, retaining only enough of its pristine wildness for
romantic effect. Ernie Hunter had done his work well. He had provided
for heat for the cave by running a galvanized stovepipe up through a
crevice in the rocks and filling with stones and cement all the
surrounding vents to guard against the draining in of water from the
mountain side. He also collected and stored at home a supply of old
mattresses, blankets, kitchen utensils, a laundry stove, and other
domestic conveniences usable in a place of this kind. A week before
vacation he wrote thus to his 12-year-old brother, Paul:

"I'm going to bring seven boys home with me. We are going to spend the
vacation in the mountains, with the cave as headquarters. Will you
have the stove hauled there and set up and keep a fire in it a good
deal of the time to dry the place out thoroughly? We will come to
Hollyhill on an early train, so as to have plenty of time to haul the
mattresses and other outfittings to the cave and get it ready for
habitation. We will all have guns and will have some great times
shooting game. Of course, you will be in on all this."