THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT
over upon the other side above the channel he saw below him the thing he had not expected, the smooth dark surface of water gliding without a whisper, deep shrunken in its bed. At least a foot of the perpendicular wall made glassy smooth by the undercurrent was bare. Higher the rock projected, was irregular and hollowed into shallow caves. Above these the crevices of the boulders were swept full of dry twigs, leaves and grass, powdery and gray, and full of silt. Edging along cautiously, moving her feet carefully as a cat, she stopped and stooped, and gathering her skirts, crept into an opening in the rock.
It was one of those wave-worn caves sometimes to be found in the walls of mountain rivers, in spring covered by the water which now ran some four feet below. As he followed her into the black hole, sliding feet first, he could feel its sides rough and clean as coral; but earth had been loosely sprinkled over its surface, and dry moss, pulled up by the roots, was drawn about the entrance, and once they were both in she pulled it up in a heap, hiding half the opening, leaving room enough for their eyes to look out. The floor of the cave was almost level, so that as they lay stretched upon it, they could look out to the opposite bank, or down into the river. It ran languidly in long ripples. Where they lifted
297
