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Dwyer, James Francis

"The White Waterfall"

The soul
within me had known that the knowledge would be wanted!
"How many paces?" asked the Professor.
"Sixty!" I roared; and then, seized with temporary insanity, I chanted
the song of the Maori at the top of my voice:
"Sixty paces to the left,
Sixty paces to the left,
That's the way to heaven,
That's the way to heaven,
That's the way to heaven out
Of Black Fernando's hell."
"And here's the waterfall!" cried Holman, "Go easy now! It must be
flowing into some hole, and we don't want to fall into an abyss just as
Verslun has discovered the way out."
We advanced cautiously toward the spot where, as Edith had said, the
water sparkled like fireflies in the darkness. It was an eerie place. We
knew that the water was there by the sound it made flowing over the
rocks, but, except for the tiny sparks of phosphorescent light that
seemed to fly out from it, we could not see it. The spectacle thrilled
us. A million sparks of light seemed to rise from the bed of feldspar
over which the water leaped, and the peculiar quality of the rock gave
to it the weird brilliancy which held us spellbound as we advanced with
extreme caution.


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