This
hole had been sunk 70 to 80 feet deep in the talcose stone; and it would
have been far easier and better to have driven galleries and adits into
the face of the rock.
We took fourteen minutes to clamber up the stiff side in the pelting rain,
with a tornado making ready to break. Ten minutes more, along the level,
and a total of three hours, placed us at Mr. Crocker's Bellevue House. I
had been asked to baptise it, and gave the name after a place in Sevenoaks
which overlooks the wooded expanse of the Kentish weald. The place being
locked up, we at once committed burglary; I occupied one of the two
boarded bedrooms with plank walls, and my men established themselves in
the broad and well-thatched verandah. When the view cleared we saw various
outliers of hill, all running nearly parallel and striking north with more
or less easting; the temperature was delightful, and between the showers
the breezes were most refreshing. At night a persistent rain set in and
ruined all chance of getting sights.
The next morning broke dull and grey with curtains of smoky fog and mist
hanging to the hills; and the heavy wet made the paths greasy and
slippery. Leaving Bellevue House, we walked along the whole length of the
ridge in half an hour; and, descending the north-western slope, we struck
the main thoroughfare--such as it is.
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