Ida encouraged her fainting sister to drag herself a few paces further, in hopes of discovering that place of rest, which she had just declared so necessary. They ventured to enter one of the enormous caverns, which the penetrating moon-beams deprived of some part of its natural terrors. As they proceeded, they were sensible of a different temperature of air from that, which they breathed in the more exposed parts of the mountain: by comparison they could almost call the sensation, which they now experienced, by the pleasing name of warmth; and the feel of something like soft moss under their feet encouraged them with the conviction, that here at least all vegetation was not completely at an end. The roar of the water-fall by this time was almost deafening; but no persuasions could induce the timid Constantia to advance one step further into the cavern, than where it was illuminated by the moon-beams. She sank almost insensible upon the mossy carpet; while the more active Ida bethought herself of every possible means of alleviating the sufferings of her fellow-Pilgrim. The contents of their baskets remained untouched, for anxiety of heart had prevented them hitherto from being sensible either of thirst, or hunger. Ida now bathed her sister’s pale lips with some drops of wine; she then splintered the staves, which had guided their tottering steps in this hazardous journey; and she hastened to collect a few precious fragments of broken wood, which while entering the cavern she had remarked in the moon-shine; probably they were the remains of a plank, which had served some former traveller as a bridge over the wide chasms between the rocks. With a flint and the steel clasp of her girdle she contrived to strike out a few sparks of fire. It was not long, before she had the satisfaction to see the wood blazing; and she started in admiration and astonishment at the magnificent show, which the strengthening fire-light presented before her; the Sisters were at the entrance of an immense and vaulted cavern, whose sides and roof appeared to be entirely formed of ice: from the extreme end of it the rush of the water-fall proceeded and was repeated by innumerable echoes: while the flames played sometimes on large sheets of crystal, smooth, bright, and polished as Venetian mirrors, and sometimes fell upon the broken crags of the rock, whence they were reflected in a thousand ways, and which they tinged with a thousand colours.