Far, far below I caught the moonlight on a mass of hurrying waters.

This was our bridge, and though I have a good head for crags, I confess I grew dizzy as we turned to cross it.

Perhaps it was broader than it looked; at any rate my guides seemed to have no fear, and strode across it as if it was a highway, while I followed in a sweat of fright.

Once on the other side, I was handed over to a second pair of guides, who led me down a high passage running into the heart of the mountain.
The boom of the river sank and rose as the passage twined.

Soon I saw a gleam of light ahead which was not the moon.