On the same side of the dale they had detected the entrance to something, whether cave or mine they knew not, covered in by stones and earth. With pick and crowbar an entrance was soon exposed, not much larger than a badger's hole, and we crept through. At once it became evident that the hole was not a natural one; it was no "self-cave," as the country people say, but an ordinary level or a sough draining a lead mine. A pool of water filled the tunnel from side to side, stretching away into the distance; and as we preferred, if wading were necessary, to postpone it as long as we could, we left this alone for the present, and went on with our quest at two other spots in the entrance to Cales Dale. Needless to say, we had missed no opportunity of cross-examining the inhabitants of the district, but the results had been absurdly inaccurate and conflicting. Already a crowd of rustic onlookers had gathered round, but the only individual among them who knew anything about the region inside was the afore-mentioned sheep-dog, who could tell us nothing. He, too, was the only one who showed any inclination to join our underground party. In the upper Cales Dale Cavern, as we named it, he actually went ahead of us, and put our candles in jeopardy with the spirited wagging of his tail.
This cave is doubtless a very ancient channel of the Cales Dale Water, which now runs through hidden crevices till it meets the Lathkill; the span of its antiquity may be gauged by the fact that Cales Dale has been cut 200 feet deeper, and the cave left high and dry, since it was a regular stream-course. I say dry in a comparative sense, for we quickly found ourselves confronted by a short passage of extreme dampness. The main channel runs west for 150 feet, and then divides, both branches dwindling rapidly to mere water-pipes. But near the entrance a branch strikes off to the right. Although the roof came down on our backs as we crawled, we managed to keep just above the surface of a shallow pool that lay in the middle: but a second pool was almost entirely mopped up by our journey to and fro. The passage ended in a chamber where two can stand upright. Every bit of this little nook is covered with a creamy-white and brownish coating of amorphous carbonate. It is like a small empty shrine, with heavy curtains flowing over its walls, their folds and ridges flecked with innumerable scaly projections, like some delicate frilling. The rest of the cave is devoid of charm, though there are interesting masses of white tufa on the walls, as soft as putty.