had dived down to see it; which I did, but found it so dark, as Jack had said, that I could scarcely see anything. When I returned, we had a long conversation about it, during which I observed that Peterkin had a most lugubrious expression on his countenance.
"What's the matter, Peterkin?" said I.
"The matter?" he replied. "It's all very well for you two to be talking away like mermaids about the wonders of this cave, but you know I must be content to hear about it, while you are enjoying yourselves down there like mad dolphins. It's really too bad."
"I'm very sorry for you, Peterkin, indeed I am," said Jack, "but we cannot help you. If you would only learn to dive—".
"Learn to fly, you might as well say!" retorted Peterkin, in a very sulky tone.
"If you would only consent to keep still," said I, "we would take you down with us in ten seconds."
"Hum!" returned Peterkin; "suppose a salamander was to propose to you 'only to keep still', and he would carry you through a blazing fire in a few seconds, what would you say?"
We both laughed and shook our heads, for it was evident that nothing was to be made of Peterkin in the water. But we could not rest satisfied till we had seen more of this cave; so, after further consultation, Jack and I determined to try if we could take down a torch with us, and set fire to it in the cavern. This we found to be an undertaking of no small difficulty; but we accomplished it at last by the following means:—First, we made a torch of a very inflammable nature out of the bark of a certain tree, which we cut into strips, and, after twisting, cemented together with a kind of resin or
