Vainly endeavouring to save myself, I clutched at the bush, but the ground all around seemed to be flying upwards. The daylight gave way to pitch darkness, and I was falling, falling,... Then I dimly remember striking on some hard substance, and with that I lost consciousness. CHAPTER XII--The Smugglers’ Cave How long I remained insensible I cannot say, but with the return of my senses I found myself lying on some warm, soft substance, though what the object was the gloom did not permit me to ascertain. The darkness was intense, and for some time I imagined it to be night, till the remembrance of my fall gradually dawned upon me. Once I thought I was dead, and pinched my limbs to make sure that I was not. My head throbbed terribly, while my wet clothes struck a chill that was still more striking by reason of the coldness of the hole or cave into which I had fallen. Then I moved my hands around to try and discover my surroundings. The object on which I was lying was an animal, which, though motionless, was either stunned or recently dead, for its body was still warm. As far as my arms could reach I could touch nothing else save the floor, which appeared to be of smooth rock. Then I looked upwards, where, far above, a dim light flickered through a hole which was wellnigh covered with brushwood. The light was not sufficient to illuminate the bottom of the pit, the hole being, I imagined, some thirty feet in depth. Here I was, then, in a kind of natural bottle dungeon or "oubliette", such as I have often seen since, both on the Spanish Main and in our own country. In fact, it can be well likened to the dungeons of the castle at Newark (which was dismantled by the rebels), where a dismal hole some twenty feet below ground is only accessible by a rope ladder dropped through a narrow opening above. How, then, could I escape? Climbing was an impossibility, so I staggered to my feet and began a round of exploration, carefully shuffling one foot in front of the other for fear of some hidden pitfall, making towards the sound of water trickling from the roof, a sound that seemed a long way off. Presently my outstretched hand touched a wall of rock. Turning to the left, I followed the direction of the wall, which, for a cave, was very regular. At length my left hand touched a rock; either I had reached a corner of the cave, or this was a pillar of detached stone. Carefully feeling with both hands, I discovered that I was standing in an angle, and right in the corner my hand came in contact with an object that, on inspection, proved to be a gun; also, by the smoothness of the barrel I knew that it had recently been in use, there being no rust on the ironwork.