One, a handsome example of bridge building, crossed the current at the terminus of the grand approach which led up from the park; the other opened the way to the stables and the servants' quarters at the rear.

A small, stationary bridge crossed the vicious stream immediately below the hanging garden and led to the ladders by which one ascended to the caverns that ran far back into the mountain.
Two big, black, irregular holes in the face of the cliff marked the entrance to these deep, rambling caves, wonderful caverns wrought by the convulsions of the dead volcano, cracks made by these splintering earthquakes when the island was new.
The garden hung high between the building and the cliff, swung by a score of great steel cables.

These cables were riveted soundly in the solid rock of the cliff at one end and fastened as safely to the stone walls of the chateau at the other.

It swung staunchly from its moorings, with the constancy of a suspension bridge, and trembled at the slightest touch.
It was at least a hundred feet square.

The floor was covered with a foot or more of soil in which the rich grass and plants of the tropics flourished.