He had taken two hundred and sixty-nine steps--afterward he knew
that he should never forget that number--when something bumped
gently against him from behind. Instantly he wheeled about and
with knife ready to defend himself stretched forth his right hand
to push away the object that now had lodged against his body.
His fingers feeling through the darkness came in contact with
something cold and clammy--they passed to and fro over the thing
until Bradley knew that it was the face of a dead man floating
upon the surface of the stream. With an oath he pushed his
gruesome companion out into mid-stream to float on down toward
the great pool and the awaiting scavengers of the deep.

At his four hundred and thirteenth step another corpse bumped
against him--how many had passed him without touching he could
not guess; but suddenly he experienced the sensation of being
surrounded by dead faces floating along with him, all set in
hideous grimaces, their dead eyes glaring at this profaning alien
who dared intrude upon the waters of this river of the dead--a
horrid escort, pregnant with dire forebodings and with menace.

Though he advanced very slowly, he tried always to take steps of
about the same length; so that he knew that though considerable
time had elapsed, yet he had really advanced no more than four
hundred yards when ahead he saw a lessening of the pitch-darkness,
and at the next turn of the stream his surroundings became
vaguelydiscernible. Above him was an arched roof and on either
hand walls pierced at intervals by apertures covered with
wooden doors. Just ahead of him in the roof of the aqueduct
was a round, black hole about thirty inches in diameter.
His eyes still rested upon the opening when there shot downward