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with a handful of vines, I fell backward through the very opening I was looking for. The pressure of my shoulder had turned the egg-shaped door in its socket. Getting my balance, I found myself in an immense, dark cave. I could not yet see any water, but its trickle echoed in the cave louder than the tick of a grandfather's clock in an empty house; a warm dampness seemed to wrap itself about me.

     “‘While I stood near the opening trying to get used to the darkness, a low, mournful sigh came to me from the deeper section of the cave, getting louder and louder until it ended all of a sudden in a wild shriek. In a twinkling I was outside the cave. I gave the big stone a slight push and it swung easily about, closing the cave. The socket in which this egg-shaped tufa, or pumice stone turned, had been hollowed out of obsidian, or volcanic glass, the work of either wind or water erosion or of the Indians. It was so easy to turn pumice stone in this socket, that a child could have opened the cave.

     “‘Scattered about over the volcanic floor of the canyon were many large pumice stones, so light in weight that I could lift without any trouble a rock as big as a barrel. The mountain was of sandstone formation, but it appeared to have been thrown up from a very active volcanic base.

     “‘While going back to the wagon I picked out a trail through the canyon, so we could drive the team almost to the cave..."

    "’...I told Cousin Jack about the hidden well where the Indians may have cached some of their stolen treasure.

    “‘"We'd better stay here to-night," said I..."

    "’...The cold nose of the mule woke me up the next time. Both animals kept looking up the canyon where Cousin Jack had found them grazing. I saw by the Dipper that it was almost morning. I got up to look in the same direction as the mules. A signal flashed from the