Explore "The Crystal Sceptre" by Philip Verrill Mighels on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
STILL BREATHING hard, from the effects of the duel, I reached the heap of stone, outside the cavern and hunted up my bundle of wood. I sat down on a rock to get my torches lighted. This was not an easy matter, for although my brand was a species of wood which retained fire remarkably long, I was obliged to gather many small dry twigs and bits of dead creeper, to which I added hair from the skin, before I could make a blaze. Once having accomplished this feat, however, I found that the torch-faggots burned with all the fierceness of pitch.
Acknowledging that the skeleton-man had succeeded in finding a wood which surpassed for torches anything that I had yet discovered, I threw my bag and clubs inside the cave and climbed in after, with all the light I needed.