High up the pinnacles and turrets pointed toward a resplendent moon.

It was a weird, wonderful scene of beauty entrancing, of breathless, dreaming silence that seemed not of life.

Then a hoot-owl lamented dismally, his call fitting the scene and the dead stillness; the echoes resounded from cliff to cliff, strangely mocking and hollow, at last reverberating low and mournful in the distance.
How long I lay there enraptured with the beauty of light and mystery of shade, thrilling at the lonesome lament of the owl, I have no means to tell; but I was awakened from my trance by the touch of something crawling over me.

Promptly I raised my head.

The cave was as light as day.