He unharnessed the horse, loosing him to range at will, and we soon had the contents of the wagon transferred to the house.
After a hearty repast we sat before the stove with our pipes while he asked innumerable questions about friends and acquaintances whom he had not seen or heard of since renouncing civilization and settling in the wild spot he now called home. About 10 o'clock we adjourned to the other room, two sides of which were fitted with bunks, while a third was lined with shelves filled with books and magazines. It was apparent how he was in the habit of spending his days and evenings. We were soon occupying the bunks, and I, for one, was not long in falling sound asleep.
I arose at dawn, but early as I was, McSweet was up and busied with breakfast. "Ah, Hatton," he exclaimed cheerfully, as I appeared in the doorway armed with rod and creel, "I see we are going to have fish for dinner, but bacon must suffice for breakfast."
"Not for dinner," I replied; "I am going to put up a lunch and make a day of it, but I can promise you some good ones for tonight, if you have not deceived me about how your streams abound with them."
We soon breakfasted, and as I prepared to depart, McSweet accompanied me to the door, where he paused, saying, "Hatton, I want particularly to call your attention to that cave you see about four hundred yards before us. Keep away from it during the afternoon hours, especially after 3 o'clock, as it is dangerous. The Indians have always lived in great fear of it and those around here now say that in times past, sacrifices, both human and animal, were made to the thing they believed to dwell in its depths. They call it the Cave of the Wind Devil. I do not know what it is, but I do know that it is something evil and horrible, and to go in there at certain hours is death. The spring from which I get my water is about ten yards inside the entrance and I am very careful not to require a supply of it after a certain hour."
"But what is it?" I asked. "Surely you must have some good reason for saying what you do and are not influenced by an old Indian superstition. What do you fear and what has happened to make you speak so positively of danger?"
"Superstition nothing! No, I am not influenced by the Indian legends, but have good reasons for saying what I do. I'll tell you more this evening and maybe show you something, too, if you return at the right time. But remember what I have said and keep away from the place."
He turned abruptly into the house, and there soon issued a prodigious rattling of pots and pans, indicating that no more information was to be had at that time. Wondering somewhat, I left the cabin, following a path which lay within about twenty feet of the cave, where I paused. The place looked ordinary enough, like hundreds of others to be found in all mountain regions. It may have been the result of what I had just heard, but as I stood gazing into the cavernous depths, I felt a chill creep along my spine and a sense of deadly fear steal over me. "Tut, tut," I muttered, "this will never do. Am I letting Mac's wild talk make a fool of me?" Turning in a sort of panic, I hurried on toward the river.
It was a fine morning, crisp and cold, with a touch of frost in the air. I pushed forward vigorously through the brambles and other dead growths of summer and soon reached my destination. McSweet had not exaggerated the abundance of fish, and in a short time my creel contained some fine ones. I built a fire about noon and ate my lunch, which I thoroughly enjoyed in spite of the fact
