The danger of a descent was very great, for the face
of the rocks was in parts coated with frozen snow, and I knew that
besides the difficulty of climbing with cold hands there was the
possibility of slipping upon the icy surface of the ledges. But now
I had my viking stone to protect me, and with less hesitation than
the occasion warranted I proceeded to climb down the precipice, and
was fortunate enough to reach the bottom without accident.
Lighting a small lantern I had brought, I walked into the cavern,
thinking it strange that I saw no trace of Thora at the entrance,
for I had made noise enough to attract her. Yet I noticed the
flagon that had held the warm tea we had sent down in the morning
lying empty on a flat stone. I continued my way further into the
cavern, watching the play of light upon the huge stalactites that
hung from the roof. At last I came to the stream in which Thora had
so nearly lost her life. It was swollen, and rushed past with great
force. At one point a kind of bridge had been formed by a couple of
wooden planks that had been thrown across. Over this bridge I
crossed, turning my lantern to right and left, anxiously looking
for Thora, whom I also called by name. Beyond the little bridge I
was sensible of a strong spirituous smell, and this became still
stronger as I advanced, until, when I held my light towards a side
chamber of the cave I discerned a large number of small kegs.
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