Gradually, however, as time passed, this feeling grew insensibly less;
so that when, a few days later, the thought occurred to me that it might
be possible to clamber down and have a look into the hole, I was not so
exceedingly averse to it, as might have been imagined. Still, I do not
think, even then, that I really intended to try any such foolhardy
adventure. For all that I could tell, it might be certain death, to
enter that doleful looking opening. And yet, such is the pertinacity of
human curiosity, that, at last, my chief desire was but to discover what
lay beyond that gloomy entrance.
Slowly, as the days slid by, my fear of the Swine-things became an
emotion of the past--more an unpleasant, incredible memory, than
aught else.
Thus, a day came, when, throwing thoughts and fancies adrift, I
procured a rope from the house, and, having made it fast to a stout
tree, at the top of the rift, and some little distance back from the Pit
edge, let the other end down into the cleft, until it dangled right
across the mouth of the dark hole.
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