The cave itself was full of people gathered round fires--for several
more had now been lighted--and eating their evening meal by their lurid
light, and by that of various lamps which were set about or hung upon
the walls. These lamps were of a rude manufacture of baked earthenware,
and of all shapes, some of them graceful enough. The larger ones were
formed of big red earthenware pots, filled with clarified melted fat,
and having a reed wick stuck through a wooden disk which filled the top
of the pot. This sort of lamp required the most constant attention to
prevent its going out whenever the wick burnt down, as there were no
means of turning it up. The smaller hand lamps, however, which were also
made of baked clay, were fitted with wicks manufactured from the pith
of a palm-tree, or sometimes from the stem of a very handsome variety
of fern. This kind of wick was passed through a round hole at the end of
the lamp, to which a sharp piece of hard wood was attached wherewith to
pierce and draw it up whenever it showed signs of burning low.

For a while we sat down and watched this grim people eating their
evening meal in silence as grim as themselves, till at length, getting
tired of contemplating them and the huge moving shadows on the rocky
walls, I suggested to our new keeper that we should like to go to bed.

Without a word he rose, and, taking me politely by the hand, advanced
with a lamp to one of the small passages that I had noticed opening
out of the central cave. This we followed for about five paces, when it
suddenly widened out into a small chamber, about eight feet square, and
hewn out of the living rock. On one side of this chamber was a stone
slab, about three feet from the ground, and running its entire length
like a bunk in a cabin, and on this slab he intimated that I was to
sleep. There was no window or air-hole to the chamber, and no furniture;
and, on looking at it more closely, I came to the disturbing conclusion