He next gathered dry
twigs and leaves and made a fire, upon which he threw certain drugs
and dried herbs which he had brought in his basket. A thick smoke
rose, diffusing a potent odor savoring marvelously of brimstone and
asafetida, which, however grateful it might be to the olfactory
nerves of spirits, nearly strangled poor Wolfert, and produced a
fit of coughing and wheezing that made the whole grove resound.
Dr. Knipperhausen then unclasped the volume which he had brought
under his arm, which was printed in red and black characters in
German text. While Wolfert held the lantern, the doctor, by the
aid of his spectacles, read off several forms of conjuration in
Latin and German. He then ordered Sam to seize the pickax and
proceed to work. The close-bound soil gave obstinate signs of not
having been disturbed for many a year. After having picked his way
through the surface, Sam came to a bed of sand and gravel, which he
threw briskly to right and left with the spade.
[1] A German exclamation of anger, equivalent to the English
"zounds!"
"Hark!" said Wolfert, who fancied he heard a trampling among the
dry leaves and a rustling through the bushes.
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