These words were found scratched on a piece of muddy flowstone at the bottom of a Derbyshire pot. They are clearly very old, and all attempts to make sense of them have failed. We are therefore publishing them in the hope that one of our readers may be able to interpret this ancient epic for us; and possibly prove that there were speleologists many hundreds of years ago.

Twas darkle and the calcy stals
Did dreeb and plopple in the floze.
All fludgy were the troggledals
As they from alchile sloop arose.

'Beware the Batpondile, my son,
The sqooze that grips, the grouts that flood!
Beware the ulsel bird! And shun
The egonsbec'd Yssterud!'

He dressed himself in rubborn suit,
Long time the speleous foe he sought;
He gonked amid some flakered schist,
And paused awhile in thought.

And, as wittering there he shroke
The batpondile with carbide flame
Came thrutching through the dangose choke
And chertled as it came.

One-two! One-two! And through and through!
The polypropylene went "snack"!
He took its life, and with its Nife
He went craveling back.

'And hast thou slain the Batpondile?
Come to my arms my erkie boy!
O ouigelous day! Below! Belay!
He cuccled in his joy.

Twas darkle and the calcy stals
Did dreb and plopple in the floze.
All fludgy were the troggledals
As they from alchile sleep arose.