it was not "here goes," for he still kept looking at me without drinking.
"Well," said I, impatiently, "what are you afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid," cried Abraham, "but I don't see you drinking."
"Nonsense, man! I'm waiting for you!"
"Go ahead, then."
"Go ahead."
Here there was a long pause, and we watched each other with great attention. At last, entirely out of patience, I lowered my bowl and said,
"Abraham, do you want me to poison myself?"
"No, I don't," said Abraham; "I'd be very sorry for it."
"Then why did you propose that we should drink this poison together? for I verily believe it must be poison, or it wouldn't look so tempting."
"Because you wanted me to drink it first."
"Did I? Give me your hand, Abraham; I forgot that." Whereupon we shook hands, and agreed to consider it not whisky punch, but poison, and drink none at all.
Our thirst increasing to a painful degree, we were about to retrace our steps, when I observed a little bird perch himself upon the edge of a leaf not far off, and commence drinking from the hollow. I told Abraham to look.
"Sure enough," said he, "birds don't drink whisky punch."
"No," said I, "God Almighty never made a bird or a four-legged beast yet that would naturally drink punch or any other kind of poison. It must be water, and good water too, for birds have more sense than men about what they drink. So here goes, whether you join or not."
"And here goes too!" cried Abraham; and we both, without hesitating any longer, emptied our bowls to the bottom; and so pure and delicious was the water that we emptied half a dozen leavesful more, and never felt a bit afraid that it would hurt us; for we knew then that God had made these cups of living green, and filled them with water fresh from the heavens for the good of His creatures.
CHAPTER XI.
THE VALLEY OF ENCHANTMENT
Thus refreshed, we set to work boldly, and, by dint of hard climbing, reached the top of the cliff. It was the highest point on the island next to the Peak of Yonka. We looked over the edge and down into a lovely valley covered with grass. Wooded ravines sloped into it on every side, and streams wound through it hedged with bushes, and all around us the air was filled with a sweet scent of wild flowers. In that secluded valley, so seldom trodden by the foot of man, we saw how much of beauty lay yet unrevealed upon earth; and our souls were filled with an abiding happiness: for time might dim the mortal eye; the freshness of youth might pass away; all the bright promises of life might leave us in the future; but there was a resting-place there for the memory; an impression, made by the Divine hand within, that could never fade; a glimpse in our earthly pilgrimage of that promised land where there is harmony without end – beauty without blemish – joy beyond all that man hath conceived.
Nothing was here of that stern and inhospitable character that marked the rock-bound shores of the island. A soft haze hung over the valley; a happy quiet reigned in the perfumed air; the breath of heaven touched gently the flowers that bloomed upon the sod; all was fresh and fair, and full of romantic beauty. Yet there was life in the repose; abundance within the maze of heights that encircled the dreamy solitude. Fields of wild oats waved with changing colors on the hill-sides; green meadows swept around the bases of the mountains; rich and fragrant shrubs bloomed wherever we looked; fair flowers and running vines hung over the brows of the rocks, crowning them as with a garland; and springs burst out from the cool earth and fell in white mist down into the groves of myrtle below, and were lost in the shade. Nowhere was there a trace of man's intrusion. Wild horses, snuffing the air, dashed out into the valley in all the joyousness of their freedom, flinging back their manes and tossing their heads proudly; and when they beheld us, they started suddenly, and fled up the mountains beyond. Herds of goats ran along the rugged declivities below us, looking scarcely bigger than rabbits; and birds of bright and beautiful plumage flew close around our heads, and lit upon the trees. It was a fair scene, untouched by profaning hands; fair and solitary, and lovely in its solitude as the happy valley of Rasselas.
CHAPTER XII.
A STRANGE DISCOVERY
While I was trying to make a sketch of this Valley of Enchantment, as we called it, Abraham was peering over the cliff, and looking about in every direction in search of some ruin or relic of habitation. He was not naturally of a romantic turn, but he had a keen eye for every thing strange and out of the way, and an insatiable thirst for the discovery of natural curiosities. Already his pockets were full of roots and pieces of rock; and it was only by the utmost persuasion that I could prevent him from carrying a lump of lava that must have weighed twenty pounds. Without any cause, so far as I could see, he began stamping upon the ground, and then, picking up a big stone, he rolled it over the edge of the cliff, and eagerly peeped after it, holding both hands to his ears as if to listen.
"What's that, Abraham?" said I; "you are certainly losing your wits."
"I knew it! I knew it!" he cried, greatly excited; "it's perfectly hollow. There's a natural castle in it!"
"Where? in your head?"
"No, in the cliff here; it's all hollow – a regular old castle! Come on! come on, Luff! We're bound to explore it. May be we'll rake up something worth seeing yet!" Saying which, he bounded down a narrow ledge on the left, and I, as a matter of course, followed. Our path was not the most secure, winding as it did over an abyss some hundreds of feet in a direct fall; but our previous experience enabled us to spring over the rocks with wonderful agility, and work our way down the more difficult passes in a manner that would have done credit to animals with four legs. Portions of the earth formed a kind of narrow stairway, so distinct and regular that we almost thought it must be of artificial construction. In about ten minutes we reached a broad ledge underneath the brow of the cliff. Turning our backs to the precipice, we saw a spacious cavity in the rocks, shaped a good deal like an immense Gothic doorway, all overhung with vines and wild fern.
"I knew it!" cried Abraham, enthusiastically. "A regular old castle, by all that's wonderful! Crusoe's cave is nothing to it! Just see what a splendid entrance; what ancient turrets; what glorious old walls of solid rock!"
"Verily, it does look like a castle," said I. "We must call it the Castle of Abraham, in honor of the discoverer."
"Yes, but it strikes me there may be another discoverer already. Look at these marks on the rock!"
"True enough; goats never make marks like these!" Near the mouth or entrance of the grotto, traced in black lines, evidently with a burnt stick, we saw a number of curious designs, so defaced by the dripping of water from above that we were unable for some time to make out that they had any meaning. At length, by carefully following the darkest parts, we got some clew to the principal objects intended to be represented, which were very clumsily drawn, as if by an unskillful hand. There was a figure of a man, lying upon a horizontal line, with his face turned upward; the limbs were twisted and broken, and the expression of the features was that of extreme agony; the eyes were closed, the back of the head crushed in, the mouth partly open, and the tongue hanging out. One hand grasped a jagged rock, the other a knife with a part of the blade broken off. Close by, with its head upon his feet, was the skeleton of a strange animal, so rudely sketched that we could hardly tell whether it was intended for a goat or not. It had the horns of a goat, but the eyes, turning upward in their sockets, looked like those of a child that had died some horrible death. Waving lines were drawn
