Little Boy Of The Mountain Afterward
I awoke to find the party of riverside revelers had vanished, taking with them any hint they had been there the night before, except for the thoroughly-extinguished fire. They had also left me the blanket that had covered me. That was nice of them.
The sun was beaming, and the morning birds were singing brightly. I rose, stretched, gathered my few effects, rolled the blanket up and slung it under my arm. Then I set off downstream, following the path that ran still alongside. I planned to explore a little and then perhaps return to the mansion to investigate it properly.
As I walked, I pondered what I remembered of the strange tale told by the old woman. Very queer it was. I was not sure what to make of it, and wondered what significance it held for those wandering folk. I was glad for their company, and regretted that I did not get to know them properly.
Presently the land started to fall away, the slope descending into deeper parts of the wide valley. I came eventually to a low cliff, where the water of the stream tumbled down into a large pool below, that was surrounded by dense undergrowth and the roots of gigantic oak trees.
Navigating down some rough steps beside the falls, I found the path split, and a small secretive track lead down and to the right, twisting around and going beneath the waterfall.
There was a dark cave.
I felt a strong impulse to enter, and I did so. I wanted to see if it was a deep cavern or merely an overhang.
It got dark quickly, and I soon hit my head on the overhanging rock above me.
I saw stars, and waited a bit for my head to clear, while listening to the thundering waters behind me, and for any other sounds ahead.
Then I moved on, a little bit further in, crouching low. After a few more paces I thought I saw a flash of light ahead... yes.
The light widened. Strange. There was an exit into bright morning sunlight ahead. This was difficult to understand given my knowledge of the short traversal underground that I had made.'