CHAPTER XXVII.
So Lady Vane’s misgivings had not been without cause. The worst that she had surmised as possible had happened.
Buried alive! Was this the end of this terrible mine, to enter which seemed for ever to bring death and misfortune? First, Miriam Vane, her child, and James Outram, next, old Sir Harry Vane, then the Trauco queen, and now a large band of human beings, had come under its merciless sway.
The earthquake had passed away, leaving entombed considerably over twenty, all more or less young, none over the prime of life. Ah! to die thus was bitter indeed.
Mary and Willie behaved splendidly. There was no whining or crying on their part; they took example by their father and mother, who, after the first shock of horror had run through them, pulled themselves together, and prepared to meet the fearful situation with courage and fortitude.
So, too, did Harry, Topsie, and Freddy, like the plucky young Britishers that they were, and Shag of course knew as yet nothing about the impending doom. Butit took a long time to make some of the Indian braves understand the situation. When they did, however, they howled and shouted in their despair, and rushed frantically to and fro like beings distraught, in spite of Aniwee and Piñone’s efforts to preserve order. But they were not all cowardly. Blancha, though she wept, did so silently. She had taken La Guardia Chica from Aniwee’s arms again, and seating herself on the ground rocked it gently to and fro, while Chorlo and Coquet stood silent and dumfounded, yet too brave to wail or lament.
Was there no outlet for escape? Sir Francis and Lady Vane scanned their surroundings eagerly. Far above them they could see the blue sky, and even the green of forest verdure, growing without. How they longed for wings, to soar aloft to the opening, and escape!
“Aunt Ruby,” exclaimed Topsie suddenly, “if one could only reach yon outlet above, one would be safe.”
“Mere mockery, Topsie, to mention it,” replied Lady Vane almost reprovingly. “Who amongst us could scale that terrible face? One false step, and we should be precipitated into the icy waters of this lake, and dashed to pieces against yon fallen rock.”
“Yet we shall die of a worse death if we remain here,” persisted the young girl, in whose face shone the light of a high resolve taken. “Listen, Aunt Ruby, listen, Uncle Francis. Why should not one of us make the attempt? If we reached the top we could descend the precipice to the raft by one of those giant creepers. It was up and down them that our olduncle told us the demons passed to and fro to the cave. Then, with the help of some lassos made firm to yon trees above, and let down here, the whole lot of us could escape. Let me try and make the attempt. You know you always said I could scale rocks better than my brother and cousins. What is the good of perfecting oneself in anything, if at a moment like this, one does not try and turn it to good use? Let me try, at any rate. I believe that if perfect silence were enjoined, and with God’s great help, I might find a way to the top. Anyhow, I can but try.”
Brave Topsie. Yet in face of this courageous proposal, this high resolve, so modestly and quietly put, there are many who still presume to train the boy up to believe himself the girl’s superior in daring, skill, strength, and physical activity. It is a false and unnatural idea, one to which the beautiful, athletic girl gave the lie direct, as she stood there prepared to face a violent death, in a great effort to save the lives of her companions in misfortune.
Yet why was Topsie plucky and strong, the equal, nay, the superior, of her brother? Because she had been given fair play. Equal opportunitieshadbeen meted out to her in all things possible, where not denied by law. There stood the result, justifying the plea in favour of giving perfect equality to the boy and girl in their bringing up, and their mental and physical education.
Who shall gauge the thoughts of Sir Francis Vane as he saw before him the noble result of his efforts to give Topsie the same fair play as that which had beenmeted out to her brother? Yes, who? Large tears sprung to his eyes, as he laid his hand on the shoulder of his undaunted niece.
“My dearest child,” he said, and his voice trembled. “Who shall refuse your brave offer? Not I. Say a prayer to God, and try your best, and may the great and good God protect you.”
But Harry sprung forward and threw his arms around his sister’s neck. He could not bear to see her go from him to risk her life, even in the fearful situation in which they were placed.
“Let me go, Topsie,” he cried pleadingly. “You are worth a dozen of myself. Let me have the first try.”
“No, dear,” she answered firmly. “Uncle Francis has given me leave, and I mean to try. I think, Harry, I can do it. I am a good climber, you know, and I am strong. Pray to God that I may succeed.”
She kissed her brother as she spoke, and unclasping the knife which hung from her belt, opened the big blade, put the handle between her teeth, motioned to Shag to remain beside Harry, and then not daring to trust herself to look at those she loved so dearly, walked quickly along the gold-shingled shore towards the frowning precipice facing her, and adown whose sides the sullen cataract seemed to roar defiance on the desperate attempt which she was about to make. The gallant girl prayed as she went along, prayed more earnestly than she had ever done in her life before; for did she not know that skill, and dexterity, a firm grip, an iron nerve, all of which she possessed, were nothingwithout the great sustaining power and protection of the God who made her?
Yes, Topsie prayed. But she prayed not only. She trusted with all her might and main, trusted so implicitly in the Power that she prayed to, that when she reached the base of the precipice and looked upwards, ghastly and forbidding as the ascent appeared, it did not appal her.
The cataract shot down from the heights above in such a manner that it formed a kind of arch between itself and the rocky side of the lofty cave, and under it Topsie passed, and for a time became lost to her companions’ view in the water curtain that intervened between her and their anxious gaze.
She scanned the face of the precipice with the eye of a connoisseur. She had not scaled the eyrie heights at home in vain. The experience of her childhood’s scrambles over and up those steep and difficult crags, had taught her many a valuable lesson in the art of climbing. They stood her in good stead now, and enabled her to decide on the best line to take. She found, to her delight, that thick creepers hung down from above, and that between the rocks of the steep face, a vein of sandstone followed an upward course. If the creepers were strong enough to support a portion of her weight, she felt that she could cut notches in the sandstone for a footing, whenever the harder rock became steep, or denied her purchase thereon.
She ceased praying. She would pray no more. So firm was Topsie’s trust, that she would have thought it a mockery against God to have done so.
She placed her foot on a low ledge of rock, caughthold of a pointed crag above her, and drew herself slowly up to it. She had determined to husband her strength to its utmost, that exhaustion might not intervene to frustrate success. Then she seized another jutting point above this, and got into a standing position in the first.
Here she paused to take breath and bearings, both hands clasped around the second point, both feet planted firmly together on the first one. Over her head hissed the falling waters of the cataract as they performed their gigantic leap ere joining hands with the cold, dark lake below, on their way to feed the silent river up which the explorers had worked their way so hopefully, only to be entombed.
As she stood and rested herself, Topsie’s quick eye perceived across the soft sandstone vein a stretch of rock slanting hollow-wards, which she saw at once, if only it could be reached, would enable her to scale at least thirty feet of the precipice without very great exertion, and which would thus bring her to some thick interlacing creepers, strong with the growth of ages, which would be of enormous assistance to her in her desperate enterprise. But the sandstone vein was as smooth as crystal, and there was but one way to cross it, namely, by cutting notches for the hands and feet, a difficult and dangerous task indeed. Yet it must be attempted, so Topsie did not flinch. She felt certain of success, if it was God’s will. So letting herself down on to her knees, she cut into the sandstone with her knife, balancing herself with her other hand.
She managed the first notch right enough, and atonce regained her former position, this time cutting a notch on a level with her hands, and another just beyond it. Then she replaced the knife between her teeth, put both hands into the two upper notches, and let her feet into the lower one.
She was now standing in such a position that the two upper notches were on a level with her waist, and they being hollowed above and below she was able to hook her right hand upwards and hold on thereby, leaving her left one free to handle the knife, which was to cut the next notch above her slanting to the left. Into this fresh notch, when finished, she would insert her left hand, after replacing the knife in her teeth, and draw her feet up into the one in which her right hand was at that moment fixed.
Slowly but surely, step by step, notch by notch, the brave girl made her way across the glassy surface, until at length her hand grasped the primeval creepers with triumphant clutch. For the next thirty feet progress was easy enough to this lithe, athletic child of Nature, as hand over hand she drew herself up higher and higher towards the spot where rescue lay.
Then another difficulty intervened in the shape of the sandstone vein again, but this time there was no slant about it, as it ran straight up, perpendicular above the girl’s head for some forty feet.
Well, there was nothing for it but notch-cutting again, and Topsie buckled to her work. The spray of the cataract blew into her face and refreshed her greatly, for the sweat of exertion had burst out upon her, and stood in large beads across her brow.
It took her more than an hour to creep slowly upwards and encompass this forbidding obstacle. Several times her brain reeled, and exhaustion almost overcame her, but she battled bravely with her weakness, summoned all her remaining strength and courage, and won.
Ragged rock and crevassed crags now faced her, but after her late difficult experiences, these appeared easy sailing enough; for there was footing room and creepers to grasp and support her. Very adroitly she worked her way upwards, never once looking below, her climbing experiences having taught her how fatal the practice is, even to the best of mountaineers. No; with Topsie it was all Excelsior. Her aim was to gain the summit.
And she gained it. Within two hours of the moment when she had placed her foot on the first crag, full of confidence in God, Topsie Vane had grasped the flag of victory, and passed from her prison to the outer world.
She heard a glad, wild cheer burst forth from her darling Harry, and then cheer after cheer from those entombed with him; she heard it all as she dropped on her knees, and poured forth a silent prayer of thanksgiving for her deliverance, to the God to whom she had prayed and in whom she had trusted. Then she arose and looked about her. All around her grew primeval forest, but the earthquake which had entombed her party and the avalanche, parts of which had swept into the mine, as already related, had up heaved and borne to the ground many a noble tree, which had reared its head for centuries. The mountain stream which fed the cataract from the giantAndes was in many parts almost blocked up with thedébris, but Topsie did not waste time looking about her. She had still a difficult and dangerous as well as arduous climb to perform, down and up the precipice which overlooked the entrance to the cave, and the dark, silent river below. If aught befell her in this climb, hers would be the fate to die close to and yet without the range of all she loved so dearly; for were they not entombed within the cave, and powerless to reach her?
She scrambled across jagged rocks and fallen trees, making her way over the head of the cave with all speed possible, and never pausing until she reached the deep gorge and looked down on the raft below.
Yes, there hung the thick creepers, heavy and interlaced with the growth of years, a veritable beanstalk leading up and down from the river to the heights above. Topsie grasped the head of one, and fearlessly let herself down over the precipice. More than a hundred feet yawned beneath her, but her nerve was of iron, her wrists like steel, and in less than half an hour she had loosed her hold and sprung on to the raft.