the complete writings-3-第15章

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re　as　from　the　flaring…up　of　a　furnace。　　Settlers　were　few　in　the　wilderness　then；　and　all　the　inhabitants　were　well　known。　　If　the　cave　was　inhabited；　it　must　be　by　strangers；　and　by　men　who　had　some　secret　purpose　in　seeking　this　seclusion　and　eluding　observation。　　If　suspicious　characters　were　seen　about　Port　Henry；　or　if　any　such　landed　from　the　steamers　on　the　shore　of　Lake　Champlain；　it　was　impossible　to　identify　them　with　these　invaders　who　were　never　seen。　　Their　not　being　seen　did　not；　however；　prevent　the　growth　of　the　belief　in　their　existence。　　Little　indications　and　rumors；　each　trivial　in　itself；　became　a　mass　of　testimony　that　could　not　be　disposed　of　because　of　its　very　indefiniteness；　but　which　appealed　strongly　to　man's　noblest　faculty；　his　imagination；　or　credulity。

The　cave　existed；　and　it　was　inhabited　by　men　who　came　and　went　on　mysterious　errands；　and　transacted　their　business　by　night。　　What　this　band　of　adventurers　or　desperadoes　lived　on；　how　they　conveyed　their　food　through　the　trackless　woods　to　their　high　eyrie；　and　what　could　induce　men　to　seek　such　a　retreat；　were　questions　discussed；　but　never　settled。　　They　might　be　banditti；　but　there　was　nothing　to　plunder　in　these　savage　wilds；　and；　in　fact；　robberies　and　raids　either　in　the　settlements　of　the　hills　or　the　distant　lake　shore　were　unknown。　　In　another　age；　these　might　have　been　hermits；　holy　men　who　had　retired　from　the　world　to　feed　the　vanity　of　their　godliness　in　a　spot　where　they　were　subject　neither　to　interruption　nor　comparison；　they　would　have　had　a　shrine　in　the　cave；　and　an　image　of　the　Blessed　Virgin；　with　a　lamp　always　burning　before　it　and　sending　out　its　mellow　light　over　the　savage　waste。　　A　more　probable　notion　was　that　they　were　romantic　Frenchmen　who　had　grow　weary　of　vice　and　refinement　together；possibly　princes；　expectants　of　the　throne；　Bourbon　remainders；　named　Williams　or　otherwise；　unhatched　eggs；　so　to　speak；　of　kings；　who　had　withdrawn　out　of　observation　to　wait　for　the　next　turn…over　in　Paris。　　Frenchmen　do　such　things。　　If　they　were　not　Frenchmen；　they　might　be　honest…thieves　or　criminals；　escaped　from　justice　or　from　the　friendly　state…prison　of　New　York。　　This　last　supposition　was；　however；　more　violent　than　the　others；　or　seems　so　to　us　in　this　day　of　grace。　　For　what　well…brought…up　New　York　criminal　would　be　so　insane　as　to　run　away　from　his　political　friends　the　keepers；　from　the　easily　had　companionship　of　his　pals　outside；　and　from　the　society　of　his　criminal　lawyer；　and；　in　short；　to　put　himself　into　the　depths　of　a　wilderness　out　of　which　escape；　when　escape　was　desired；　is　a　good　deal　more　difficult　than　it　is　out　of　the　swarming　jails　of　the　Empire　State？　　Besides；　how　foolish　for　a　man；　if　he　were　a　really　hardened　and　professional　criminal；　having　established　connections　and　a　regular　business；　to　run　away　from　the　governor's　pardon；　which　might　have　difficulty　in　finding　him　in　the　craggy　bosom　of　Nipple　Top！

This　gang　of　menthere　is　some　doubt　whether　they　were　accompanied　by　womengave　little　evidence　in　their　appearance　of　being　escaped　criminals　or　expectant　kings。　　Their　movements　were　mysterious　but　not　necessarily　violent。　　If　their　occupation　could　have　been　discovered；　that　would　have　furnished　a　clew　to　their　true　character。　But　about　this　the　strangers　were　as　close　as　mice。　　If　anything　could　betray　them；　it　was　the　steady　light　from　the　cavern；　and　its　occasional　ruddy　flashing。　　This　gave　rise　to　the　opinion；　which　was　strengthened　by　a　good　many　indications　equally　conclusive；　that　the　cave　was　the　resort　of　a　gang　of　coiners　and　counterfeiters。　　Here　they　had　their　furnace；　smelting…pots；　and　dies；　here　they　manufactured　those　spurious　quarters　and　halves　that　their　confidants；　who　were　pardoned；　were　circulating；　and　which　a　few　honest　men　were　〃nailing　to　the　counter。〃

This　prosaic　explanation　of　a　romantic　situation　satisfies　all　the　requirements　of　the　known　facts；　but　the　lively　imagination　at　once　rejects　it　as　unworthy　of　the　subject。　　I　think　the　guide　put　it　forward　in　order　to　have　it　rejected。　　The　fact　is；at　least；　it　has　never　been　disproved；these　strangers　whose　movements　were　veiled　belonged　to　that　dark　and　mysterious　race　whose　presence　anywhere　on　this　continent　is　a　nest…egg　of　romance　or　of　terror。　　They　were　Spaniards！　　You　need　not　say　buccaneers；　you　need　not　say　gold…　hunters；　you　need　not　say　swarthy　adventurers　even：　it　is　enough　to　say　Spaniards！　　There　is　no　tale　of　mystery　and　fanaticism　and　daring　I　would　not　believe　if　a　Spaniard　is　the　hero　of　it；　and　it　is　not　necessary　either　that　he　should　have　the　high…sounding　name　of　Bodadilla　or　Ojeda。

Nobody；　I　suppose；　would　doubt　this　story　if　the　moose；　quaffing　deep　draughts　of　red　wine　from　silver　tankards；　and　then　throwing　themselves　back　upon　divans；　and　lazily　puffing　the　fragrant　Havana。　After　a　day　of　toil；　what　more　natural；　and　what　more　probable　for　a　Spaniard？

Does　the　reader　think　these　inferences　not　warranted　by　the　facts？　He　does　not　know　the　facts。　　It　is　true　that　our　guide　had　never　himself　personally　visited　the　cave；　but　he　has　always　intended　to　hunt　it　up。　　His　information　in　regard　to　it　comes　from　his　father；　who　was　a　mighty　hunter　and　trapper。　　In　one　of　his　expeditions　over　Nipple　Top　he　chanced　upon　the　cave。　　The　mouth　was　half　concealed　by　undergrowth。　　He　entered；　not　without　some　apprehension　engendered　by　the　legends　which　make　it　famous。　　I　think　he　showed　some　boldness　in　venturing　into　such　a　place　alone。　　I　confess　that；　before　I　went　in；　I　should　want　to　fire　a　Gatling　gun　into　the　mouth　for　a　little　while；　in　order　to　rout　out　the　bears　which　usually　dwell　there。　　He　went　in；　however。　　The　entrance　was　low；　but　the　cave　was　spacious；　not　large；　but　big　enough；　with　a　level　floor　and　a　vaulted　ceiling。　It　had　long　been　deserted；　but　that　it　was　once　the　residence　of　highly　civilized　beings　there　could　be　no　doubt。　　The　dead　brands　in　the　centre　were　the　remains　of　a　fire　that　could　not　have　been　kindled　by　wild　beasts；　and　the　bones　scattered　about　had　been　scientifically　dissected　and　handled。　　There　were　also　remnants　of　furniture　and　pieces　of　garments　scattered　about。　　At　the　farther　end；　in　a　fissure　of　the　rock；　were　stones　regularly　built　up；　the　rem　Yins　of　a　larger　fire；and　what　the　hunter　did　not　doubt　was　the　smelting　furnace　of　the　Spaniards。　　He　poked　about　in　the　ashes；　but　found　no　silver。　　That　had　all　been　carried　away。

But　what　most　provoked　his　wonder　in　this　rude　cave　was　a　chair　I　This　was　not　such　a　seat　as　a　woodman　might　knock　up　with　an　axe；　with　rough　body　and　a　seat　of　woven　splits；　but　a　manufactured　chair　of　commerce；　and　a　chair；　too；　of　an　unusual　pattern　and　some　elegance。　　This　chair　itself　was　a　mute　witness　of　luxury　and　mystery。　　The　chair　itself　might　have　been　accounted　for；　though　I　don't　know　how；　but　upon　the　back　of　the　chair　hung；　as　if　the　owner　had　carelessly　flung　it　there　before　going　out　an　hour　before；　a　man's　waistcoat。　　This　waistcoat　seemed　to　him　of　foreign　make　and　peculiar　style；　but　what　endeared　it　to　him　was　its　row　of　metal　buttons。　　These　buttons　were　of　silver！　　I　forget　now　whether　he　did　not　say　they　were　of　silver　coin；　and　that　the　coin　was　Spanish。　　But　I　am　not　certain　about　this　latter　fact；　and　I　wish　to　cast　no　air　of　improbability　over　my　narrative。　　This　rich　vestment　the　hunter　carried　away　with　him。　　This　was　all　the　plunder　his　expedition　afforded。　　Yes：　there　was　one　other　article；　and；　to　my　mind；　more　significant　than　the　vest　of　the　hidalgo。　　This　was　a　short　and　stout　crowbar　of　iron；　not　one　of　the　long　crowbars　that　farmers　use　to　pry　up　stones；　　but　a　short　handy　one；　such　as　you　would　use　in　digging　silver…ore　out　of　the　cracks　of　rocks。

This　was　the　guide's　simple　story。　　I　asked　him　what　became　of　the　vest　and　the　buttons；　and　the　bar　of　iron。　　The　old　man　wore　the　vest　until　he　wore　it　out；　and　then　he　handed　it　over　to　the　boys；　and　they　wore　it　in　turn　till　they　wore　it　out。　　The　buttons　were　cut　off；　and　kept　as　curiosities。　　They　were　about　the　cabin；　and　the　children　had　them　to　play　with。　　The　guide　distinctly　remembers　playing　with　them；　one　of　them　he　kept　for　a　long　time；　and　he　didn't　know　but　he　could　find　it　now；　but　he　guessed　it　had　disappeared。　　I　regretted　that　he　had　not　treasured　this　slender　verification　of　an　interesting　romance；　but　he　said　in　those　days　he　never　paid　much　attention　to　such　things。　　Lately　he　has　turned　the　subject　over；　and　is　sorry　that　his　father　wore　out　the　vest　and　did　not　bring　away　the　chair。　　It　is　his　steady　purpose　to　find　the　cave　some　time　when　he　has　leisure；　and　capture　the　chair；　if　it　has　not　tumbled　to　pieces。　But　about　the　crowbar？　　Oh　I　that　is　all　right。　　The　guide　has　the　bar　at　his　house　in　Keene　Valley；　and　has　always　used　it。　　　　　　I　am　happy　to　be　able　to　confirm　this　story　by　saying　that　next　day　I　saw　the　crowbar；　and　had　it　in　my　hand。　　It　is　short　and　thick；　and　the　most　interesting　kind　of　crowbar。　　This　evidence　is　enough　for　me。　　I　intend　in　the　course　of　this　vacation　to　search　for　the　cave；　and；　if　I　find　it；　my　readers　shall　know　the　truth　about　it；　if　it　destroys　the　only　bit　of　romance　connected　with　these　mountains。




VIII

WHAT　SOME　PEOPLE　CALL　PLEASURE

My　readers　were　promised　an　account　of　Spaniard's　Cave　on　Nipple…Top　Mountain　in　the　Adirondacks；　if　such　a　cave　exists；　and　could　be　found。　　There　is　none　but　negative　evidence　that　this　is　a　mere　cave　of　the　imagination；　the　void　fancy　of　a　vacant　hour；　but　it　is　the　duty　of　the　historian　to　present　the　negative　testimony　of　a　fruitless　expedition　in　search　of　it；　made　last　summer。　　I　beg　leave　to　offer　this　in　the　simple　language　befitting　all　sincere　exploits　of　a　geographical　character。

The　summit　of　Nipple…Top　Mountain　has　been　trodden　by　few　white　men　of　good　character：　it　is　in　the　heart　of　a　hirsute　wilderness；　it　is　itself　a　rough　and　unsocial　pile　of　granite　nearly　five　thousand　feet　high；　bristling　with　a　stunted　and　unpleasant　growth　of　firs　and　balsams；　and　there　is　no　earthly　reason　why　a　person　should　go　there。　Therefore　we　went。　　In　the　party　of　three　there　was；　of　course；　a　chaplain。　　The　guide　was　Old　Mountain　Phelps；　who　had　made　the　ascent　once　before；　but　not　from　the　northwest　side；　the　direction　from　which　we　approached　it。　　The　enthusiasm　of　this　philosopher　has　grown　with　his　years；　and　outlived　his　endurance：　we　carried　our　own　knapsacks　and　supplies；　therefore；　and　drew　upon　him　for　nothing　but　moral　reflections　and　a　general　knowledge　of　the　wilderness。　　Our　first　day's　route　was　through　the　Gill…brook　woods　and　up　one　of　its　branches　to　the　head　of　Caribou　Pass；　which　separates　Nipple　Top　from　Colvin。

It　was　about　the　first　of　September；　no　rain　had　fallen　for　several　weeks；　and　this　heart　of　the　forest　was　as　dry　as　tinder；　a　lighted　match　dropped　anywhere　would　start　a　conflagration。　　This　dryness　has　its　advantages：　the　walking　is　improved；　the　long　heat　has　expressed　all　the　spicy　odors　of　the　cedars　and　balsams；　and　the　woods　are　filled　with　a　soothing　fragrance；　the　waters　of　the　streams；　though　scant　and　clear；　are　cold　as　ice；　the　common　forest　chill　is　gone　from　the　air。　　The　afternoon　was　bright；　there　w