No matter how light your work may be, if it's regular and has to be done every day, the harness 'll gall somewhere; you get tired in time and sick of the whole thing.
Jim and I knew well that, bar accidents, we were as safe in the Hollow as we used to be in our beds when we were boys.

We'd searched it through and through last time, till we'd come to believe that only three or four people, and those sometimes not for years at a time, had ever been inside of it.

There were no tracks of more.
We could see how the first gang levied; they were different.

Every now and then they had a big drink--'a mad carouse', as the books say--when they must have done wild, strange things, something like the Spanish Main buccaneers we'd read about.

They'd brought captives with them, too.
We saw graves, half-a-dozen together, in one place.