ADVENTURES AND MISADVENTURES.--A WET GROTTO AND A BOILING LAKE.--THE
TWO FAIR SPANIARDS, AND THE DONKEY RIDE.
The Grotto of Posilippo is a most remarkable place, and, in the
opinion of every intelligent traveller, is more astonishing than even
the Hoosac Tunnel, which nobody will deny except the benighted
Bostonian.
The city of Pozzuoli is celebrated for two things; first, because St.
Paul once landed there, and no doubt hurried away as fast as he could;
and, secondly, on account of the immense number of beggars that throng
around the unhappy one who enters its streets.
The Dodge Club contributed liberally. The Doctor gave a cork-screw;
the Senator, a bladeless knife; Dick, an old lottery ticket; Buttons,
a candle-stump; Mr. Figgs, a wild-cat banknote. After which
they all hurried away on donkeys as fast as possible.
The donkey is in his glory here. Nowhere else does he develop such a
variety of forms--nowhere attain such an infinity of sizes--nowhere
emit so impressive a bray. It is the Bray of Naples. "It is like the
thunder of the night when the cloud bursts o'er Cona, and a thousand
ghosts shriek at once in the hollow wind."
There is a locality in this region which the ancient named after a
certain warm region which no reined person ever permits himself to
mention in our day. Whatever it may have been when some Roman Tityrus
walked pipe in mouth along its shore, its present condition renders
its name singularly appropriate and felicitous. Here the party amused
themselves with a lunch of figs and oranges, which they gathered
indiscriminately from orchards and gardens on the road-side.
There was the Lake Lucrine. Averno and the Elysian Fields were there.
The ruins of Caligula's Bridge dotted the surface of the sea. Yet the
charms of all these classic scenes were eclipsed in the tourists' eyes
by those of a number of pretty peasants girls who stood washing
clothes in the limpid waters of the lake.
It was in this neighborhood that they found the Grotto of the Cumaean
Sibyl. They followed the intelligent cicerone, armed with torches,
into a gloomy tunnel. The intelligent cicerone walked before them with
the air of one who had something to show. Seven stoat peasants
followed after. The cavern was as dark as possible, and extended
apparently for an endless distance.
After walking a distance of about two miles, according to the
Senator's calculation, they came to the centre of interest. It was a
hole in the wall of the tunnel. The Americans were given to understand
that they must enter here.
"But how?"
"How? Why on the broad backs of the stout peasants, who all stood
politely offering their humble services." The guide went first.
Buttons, without more ado, got on the back of the nearest Italian and
followed. Dick came next; then the Doctor. Mr. Figgs and the Senator
followed in the same dignified manner.
They descended for some distance, and finally came to water about
three feet deep. As the roof was low, and only rose three feet above
the water, the party had some difficulty, not only in keeping their
feet out of the water, but also in breathing. At length they came to
a chamber about twelve feet square. From this they passed on to
another of the same size. Thence to another. And so on.
Arriving at the last, Bearer No. 1 quietly deposited Buttons on a
raised stone platform, which fortunately arose about half an inch
above the water. Three other bearers did the same. Mr. Figgs looked
forlornly about him, and, being a fat man, seemed to grow somewhat
apoplectic. Dick beguiled the time by lighting his pipe.
"So this is the Grotto of the Cumaean Sibyl, is it?" said Buttons.
"Then all I can say is that--"
What he was going to say was lost by a loud cry which interrupted
him and startled all. It came from the other chamber.
"The Senator!" said Dick.
It was indeed his well-known voice. There was a splash and a groan.
Immediately afterward a man staggered into the room. He was deathly
pale, and tottered feebly under the tremendous weight of the Senator.
The latter looked as anxious as his trembling bearer.
"Darn it! I say," he cried. "Darn it! Don't! Don't!"
"Diavo-lo!" muttered the Italian.
And in the next instant plump went the Senator into the water. A
scene then followed that baffles description. The Senator, rising
from his unexpected bath, foaming and sputtering, the Italian praying
for forgiveness, the loud voices of all the others shouting, calling,
and laughing.
The end of it was that they all left as soon as possible, and the
Senator indignantly waded back through the water himself. A furious
row with the unfortunate bearer, whom the Senator refused to pay,
formed a beautifully appropriate termination to their visit to this
classic spot. The Senator was so disturbed by this misadventure that
his wrath did not subside until his trowsers were thoroughly dried.
This, however, was accomplished at last, under the warm sun, and then
he looked around him with his usual complacency.
The next spot of interest which attracted them was the Hall of the
Subterranean Lake. In this place there is a cavern in the centre of
a hill, which is approached by a passage of some considerable length,
and in the subterranean cavern a pool of water boils and bubbles. The
usual crowd of obliging peasantry surrounded them as they entered the
vestibule of this interesting place. It was a dingy-looking chamber,
out of which two narrow subterranean passages ran. A grimy, sooty,
blackened figure stood before them with torches.
[Illustration: Darn it!--Don't.]
"Follow!"
This was all that he condescended to say, after lighting his torches
and distributing them to his visitors. He stalked off, and stooping
down, darted into the low passage-way. The cicerone followed, then
Buttons, then Dick, then the Senator, then the Doctor, then Mr. Figgs.
The air was intensely hot, and the passage-way grew lower. Moreover,
the smoke from the torches filled the air, blinding and choking them.
Mr. Figgs faltered. Fat, and not by any means nimble, he came to a
pause about twenty feet from the entrance, and, making a sudden turn,
darted out. The Doctor was tall and unaccustomed to bend his
perpendicular form. Half choked and panting heavily he too gave up,
and turning about rushed out after Mr. Figgs.
The other three went on bravely. Buttons and Dick, because they had
long since made up their minds to see every thing that presented
itself, and the Senator, because when he started on an enterprise he
was incapable of turning back.
After a time the passage went sloping steeply down. At the bottom of
the declivity was a pond of water bubbling and steaming. Down this
they ran. Now the stone was extremely slippery, and the subterranean
chamber was but faintly illuminated by the torches. And so it came to
pass that, as the Senator ran down after the others, they had barely
reached the bottom when
_Thump_!
At once all turned round with a start.
Not too quickly; for there lay the Senator, on his back, sliding, in
an oblique direction, straight toward the pool. His booted feet were
already in the seething waves; his nails were dug into the slippery
soil; he was shouting for help.
To grasp his hand, his collar, his leg--to jerk him away and place
him upright, was the work of a shorter time than is taken to tell it.
The guide now wanted them to wait till he boiled an egg. The Senator
remonstrated, stating that he had already nearly boiled a leg. The
Senator's opposition overpowered the wishes of the others, and the
party proceeded to return. Pale, grimy with soot, panting, covered
with huge drops of perspiration, they burst into the chamber where the
others were waiting--first Buttons, then Dick, then the Senator
covered with mud and slime.
The latter gentleman did not answer much to the eager inquiries of
his friends, but maintained a solemn silence. The two former loudly
and volubly descanted on the accumulated horrors of the subterranean
way, the narrow passage, the sulphurous air, the lake of boiling
floods.
In this outer chamber their attention was directed to a number of
ancient relics. These are offered for sale in such abundance that
they may be considered stable articles of commerce in this country.
[Illustration: Thump!]
So skillful are the manufacturers that they can produce unlimited
supplies of the following articles, and many others too numerous
to mention:
Cumaean and Oscan coins;
Ditto and ditto statuettes;
Ditto and ditto rings;
Ditto and ditto bracelets;
Ditto and ditto images;
Ditto and ditto toilet articles;
Ditto and ditto vases;
Ditto and ditto flasks;
Relics of Parthenope;
Ditto of Baiae;
Ditto of Misenum;
Ditto of Paestum;
Ditto of Herculaneum;
Ditto of Pompeii;
Ditto of Capraea;
Ditto of Capua;
Ditto of Cumae--
And other places too numerous to mention; all supplied to order; all
of which are eaten by rust, and warranted to be covered by the canker
and the mould of antiquity.
The good guide earnestly pressed some interesting relics upon their
attention, but without marked success. And now, as the hour of dinner
approached, they made the best of their way to a neighboring inn,
which commanded a fine view of the bay. Emerging from the chamber the
guide followed them, offering his wares.
"Tell me," he cried, in a sonorous voice, "oh most noble Americans!
how much will you give for this most ancient vase?"
"Un' mezzo carlino," said Dick,
"Un' mezzo carlino!!!"
The man's hand, which had been uplifted to display the vase, fell
downward as he said this. His tall figure grew less and less distinct
as they went further away; but long after he was out of sight the
phantom of his reproachful face haunted their minds.
After dinner they went out on the piazza in front of the hotel. Two
Spanish ladies were there, whose dark eyes produced an instantaneous
effect upon the impressible heart of Buttons.
They sat side by side, leaning against the stone balustrade. They
were smoking cigarettes, and the effect produced by waving their
pretty hands as they took the cigarettes from their mouths was, to
say the least, bewildering.
Buttons awaited his opportunity, and did not have to wait long.
Whether it was that they were willing to give the young American a
chance, or whether it was really unavoidable, can not be said, but
certainly one of the fair Spaniards found that her cigarette had
gone out. A pretty look of despair, and an equally pretty gesture of
vexation, showed at once the state of things. Upon which Buttons
stepped up, and with a bow that would have done honor to Chesterfield,
produced a box of scented allumettes, and lighting one, gravely held
it forward. The fair Spaniard smiled bewitchingly, and bending
forward without hesitation to light her cigarette, brought her rosy
lips into bewildering proximity to Buttons's hand.
It was a trying moment.
The amiable expression of the ladies' faces, combined with the
softly-spoken thanks of the lady whom Buttons first addressed,
encouraged him. The consequence was, that in about five minutes more
he was occupying a seat opposite them, chatting as familiarly as
though he were an old playmate. Dick looked on with admiration; the
others with envy.
"How in the world does it happen," asked the Senator, "that Buttons
knows the lingo of every body he meets?"
[Illustration: A Trying Moment.]
"He can't help it," said Dick. "These Continental languages are all
alike; know one, and you've got the key to the others--that is with
French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese."
"And look at him now!" cried the Senator, his eye beaming with
cordial admiration.
"You may well look at him!" sighed Dick. "Two such pretty girls as
these won't turn up again in a hurry. Spaniards too; I always admired
them." And he walked down to the shore humming to himself something
about "the girls of Cadiz."
The ladies informed Buttons that they were travelling with their
brother, and had been through Russia, Germany, England, France, and
were now traversing Italy; did not like the three first-mentioned
countries, but were charmed with Italy.
Their _naïveté_ was delightful. Buttons found out that the name of
one was Lucia, and the other Ida. For the life of him he did not know
which he admired most; but, on the whole, rather inclined to the one
to whom he had offered the light--Ida.
He was equally frank, and let them know his name, his country, his
Creed. They were shocked at his creed, pleased with his country and
amused at his name, which they pronounced, "Señor Bo-to-nes."
After about an hour their brother came. He was a small man, very
active, and full of vivacity. Instead of looking fiercely at the
stranger, he shook hands with him very cordially. Before doing this,
however, he took one short, quick survey of his entire person, from
felt hat down to his Congress boots. The consequence was that Buttons
deserted his companions, and went off with the ladies.
Dick took the lead of the party on the return home. They viewed the
conduct of Buttons with displeasure. The Senator did not show his
usual serenity. The party were all riding on donkeys. To do this on
the minute animals which the Neapolitans furnish it is necessary to
seat one's self on the stern of the animal, and draw the legs well
up, so that they may not trail on the ground. The appearance of the
rider from behind is that of a Satyr dressed in the fashion of the
nineteenth century. Nothing can be more ridiculous than the sight
of a figure dressed in a frock-coat and beaver hat, and terminated
by the legs and tail of a donkey.
As it was getting late the party harried. The donkeys were put on the
full gallop. First rode the guide, then the others, last of whom was
the Senator, whose great weight was a sore trial to the little donkey.
They neared Pozzuoli, when suddenly the Senator gave his little beast
a smart whack to hasten his steps. The donkey lost all patience. With
a jump he leaped forward. Away he went, far ahead of the others. The
saddle whose girth was rather old, slipped off. The Senator held on
tightly. In vain! Just as he rounded a corner formed by a projecting
sandbank the donkey slipped. Down went the rider; down went the donkey
also--rider and beast floundering in the dusty road.
A merry peal of ill-suppressed laughter came from the road-side as he
rolled into view. It came from a carriage. In the carriage were the
Spaniards--there, too, was Buttons.
[Illustration: Senator And Donkey.]