Having sobered both our bloods, I felt rather better prepared for a visit to the Satanic personage who was the object of our excursion. About two miles from Kya, we struck the foot of a steep hill, some three hundred feet in height, over whose shoulder we reached a deep and tangled dell, watered by a slender stream which was hemmed in by a profusion of shrubbery. Crossing the brook, we ascended the opposite declivity for a short distance till we approached a shelving precipice of rock, along whose slippery side the ledgelike path continued. I passed it at a bound, and instantly stood within the arched aperture of a deep cavern, whence a hot and sulphurous stream trickled slowly towards the ravine. This was the fountain, and the demon who presided over its source dwelt within the cave. Whilst I was examining the rocks to ascertain their quality, the guide apprised me that the impish proprietor of these waters was gifted with a "multitude of tongues," and, in all probability, would reply to me in my own, if I thought fit to address him. "Indeed," said the savage, "he will answer you _word for word_ and that, too, almost before you can shape your thought in language. Let us see if he is at home?" I called, in a loud voice, "KYA!" but as no reply followed, I perceived at once the wit of the imposture, and without waiting for him to place me, took my own position at a spot inside the cavern, where I knew the _echoes_ would be redoubled. "Now," said I, "I know the devil is at home, as well as you do;"--and, telling my people to listen, I bellowed, with all my might--"_caffra fure!_" "infernal black one!"--till the resounding rocks roared again with demoniac responses. In a moment the cavern was clear of every African; so that I amused myself letting off shrieks, howls, squeals, and pistols, until the affrighted natives peeped into the mouth of the cave, thinking the devil in reality had come for me in a double-breasted garment of thunder and lightning. I came forth, however, with a whole skin and so hearty a laugh, that the Africans seized my hands in token of congratulation, and looked at me with wonderment, as something greater than the devil himself. Without waiting for a commentary, I leaped on my Arab and darted down the hill. "And so," said I, when I got back to Kya, "dost thou in truth believe, beloved Ibrahim, that the devil dwells in those rocks of the sulphur stream?" "Why not, brother Theodore? Isn't the water poison? If you drink, will it not physic you? When animals lick it in the dry season, do they not die on the margin by scores? Now, a 'book-man' like you, my brother, knows well enough that _water_ alone can't kill; so that whenever it does, the devil _must_ be in it; and, moreover, is it not he who speaks in the cavern?" "Good," replied I; "but, pry'thee, dear Ibrahim, read me this riddle: if the devil gets into _water_ and kills, why don't he kill when he gets into '_bitters_?'"