Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1871-08-17
Sflsft Story. Hi
INA CORNISH CAVERN.
A Thrilling Adventure.

1t was a clear, balmy day in June
when I, Richard. Dawson, midshipman
at home in Cornwall after two years
cruise, looked up three of myold school
mates for a row along the coast in a
yawl hired of a waterman, and well
freighted with all that was needed to-
make the day merry one.
Away we went, four of the most
light hearted lads living. Bob Tre-
laWny, stroke, myself with pair of
sculis, Tom Davies in the bow-rowing
random; and Billy Finch, our cox
swain. saucily hugging himself on the
dwarfish stature which exempted him
from any greater share in our labors.
With many a quib at each others
expense, our laughter waking up the
echoes of the curiOusly veined cliffs
towering above US, we glided along the
picturesque coast; sometimes passing
beneath huge blocks of granite which
seemed to need but a touch to topple
them down upon our frail craft; some
times catching glimpses Of tiny coves,
whose beauty no foreign scenery have
ever visited exceeded. Into one of
these our eoxswain steered us when we
began to show symptoms of fatigue,
skillfuIIy taking US through the narrow
inlet between the rocks that concealed
it from casual observers.
Perhaps the dark hours that followed
helped to imprint on my memory the
peaceful beauty of that spot, for fcan
coniure up-even now that years have
passed over my head-eSery detail of
The fair picture, the high banks hem
ming in the mimic bay, covered TO
their SUBMITS with heather and the
endless variety of ferns that flourish in
the rich alluyial soil; the trees crowning
the heights, the signing CT the soft
breeze that stirred their branches, and
the musical cadence of falling water as
innuinerable little rivulets bounded
from rock to rock in glistening cascades,
or like silver serpents threading their
way to the murmuring sea. The scene
was SO lovely that even the mercurial
spirit Of our coxswain was impressed
by it, and he stopped in the midst of
one of his fav0rite ditties to exclailn,
ssBy Jove, it's sublimew
In "reminiscences of our happy school
DAYS, and song after song from the
Mario of our company, the time quickly
passed away, till the deepening shad-
Ows warned US that we must depart.
Our diminished stores were placed in
the yawl, and, bending TO our work,
we soon emerged from the peaceful
cove into the broader eXpanSe of st.
Michael's bay. = ay-s-,F
While We were lingering in the cove,
the breeze had freshened, so that our
little boat danced meTrily over the
swelling waves, the bounding motion
adding a fresh impetus to the mirth
which was exuberant enough at start
ing.
We had traversed about half our
homeward way when Tom Davies pro-
posed to row into one OF. the gloomy
looking caverns frequently to be seen
on the Cornish coast. Every one
agreeing to the proposal, the boat was
backed for few yards, the head pointed
tov ard the nearest opening, and halfs
dozen vigorous strokes sent us into the
yawning cavity. ls
AS we darted under the narrow arch,
we perceived that at its highest the cav,
ern rose but a few feet aboveour heads
while to our great CONSERVATION, we
found ourselves irresistably carried
much further than we had intended
penetrating into this abode of strange
echoes.
AS another wave came up, impelline
us still onward in spite of our most Wig
orous efforts to prevent it: we looked
toward each other anxiously, and oul
coxswain's voice sounded hollow anc
unusually subduedas he exclaimed:
81 say, you fellows, this won't do a
any price. Stern all !"
This, to our increasing uneasiness, we
found it impossible to accomplish. VIZ
had but backed few yards when, with
whirl and rush against which We
coulu make no head, another wave
rolled in, and we clung desperately Il
the side of the cavern to prevent oul
boat being dashed to pieces on some
hidden boulder. Il
Though alive TO the danger of the po
sition, and bitterly regretting our fool
ishness in making the venture with 81
rough a sea running, we did not fully
comprehend our difficulties until We
looked toward the mouth of the cavern
To our horror we perceived that it was
growing less and less. AS the mex
wave came dasbing in, its crest reached
to within a couple of feet Of the crown
of the rugged arch above us. The tid'
was still rising, and thedreadful realit,
forced itself upon us, that in a shor
time we should be closed in from ligh
and hope; in word, that we should b.
buried alive in the cavern
With indescribable sensations w
watched each wave rise higher ant
higher, and the faint light grow dim
,ner. while to increase the horror of on
situation. our boat was dashed to AM
fry with such fearful violence that w
knew not how long we might hope t
nravent its being broken up.
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