CHAPTER XLIII.LOST.
But what of those who had been left behind? What had been their fate, and how had they spent those dreadful hours, when they could but reasonably expect that their companions, who had left them only that morning alive with hope and health, had met the most miserable death? The morning had been beautiful, and all had gone to see the striking of the tents and breaking of camp, and they had followed the marching army for some distance over the bad lands; but at the earnest request of the men they had at last turned and gone back to the villa. They had noticed the continued inactivity of the volcano and had hoped, woman fashion, that the worst might be over, and their spirits had been, accordingly, bright.
But the long morning hours grew tiresome, and the women became restless, and could find no way to pass the weary time. They spent a while on the terrace, but the garden had lost all its beauty by the shower of ashes. They ate their luncheon mechanically at midday and then tried to sleep awhile, but made a sadfailure of this, and at last, not knowing what else to do, they had ordered their zebras and started for a ride down the avenue. It was not long before they were well beyond the radius of falling ashes, and it was a great relief to them to see green fields and shady trees again, and the beautiful smooth pavement of the avenue. They rode for a long distance, forgetting, in their pleasure, that they were getting a long way from the villa. But the sun was so bright here, and everything so fresh and green, and the air so pure, they dreaded returning to the rather doubtful atmosphere of the villa.
But they must turn now, for the sun was getting well down toward the west, and what is that? The question was easily answered, for they had become quite accustomed to the rumbling sound of the earthquakes. Still it startled them, and they urged their beasts forward. The sound grew nearer, and then the earth began to shake so violently the zebras tottered and almost fell. And then another awful shock came, and the zebras became frightened, and, taking the soft bit between their teeth, they tore down the avenue. Then the awful explosion came like the report of a thousand cannons, and the riders saw the awful spout of dust, ashes, steam, smoke, pouring from the volcano, and almost immediately afterward they were engulfed in that fearful black atmosphere which choked and blinded them.
The zebras stopped so suddenly that their riders almost lost their seats, but by kind words, and by gently patting them, they were persuaded to proceed carefully. Here the avenue was plain to see, and there was little fear of losing the way, but the ashes werefalling with such force and such volume, the roadway was fast becoming blocked. Still the zebras were light-footed, and their riders had hopes of their being able to reach the villa. But the borders of the avenue continued in that unbroken line of trees, and the surrounding country was so much alike, it was hard to tell just where to turn off to the villa. The thought had occurred to Enola that they might be carried by this, and on and on until the beasts, overcome, would sink to the ground, leaving the riders to their fate. It was impossible to see anything, excepting now and then, when the light of the volcano would break through the awful gloom for a moment. Even then the air was so thick with the cinders and dust, they could not penetrate it more than a few feet.
And so they plodded along, each moment the gloom becoming more dense and the avenue pavement harder for the zebras to traverse. They must certainly have reached the villa by this time, but for all they could see, they might still be ten miles from it. They could not place any dependence on the zebras, for they were too badly scared to act rationally; besides their senses of smell and sight were entirely lost in this stifling atmosphere.
The situation was becoming desperate, but there was positively nothing to do but ride on with the forlorn hope of riding beyond the circle of the shower. But if they could not reach the villa, why not turn and ride back to the green fields and open country again? Aye, why not. The thought had occurred to Enola, and the more she thought of it, the more feasible the idea seemed to be, and at last it occurred to her that this might be their only chance of escape.Waiting until the volcano’s light broke through the gloom for a moment, she motioned to her friends to follow her, and after a moment she managed to turn her zebra’s head, and when this was done, and they had gotten started in the opposite direction, they seemed to have the wind at their backs and they could ride with a little more comfort. But the darkness was intense now, for night had closed in, and if possible, had added to the Egyptian blackness. The riders could only see each other at very infrequent intervals when the volcano’s light would, for a moment, melt the gloom and give the almost exhausted women a moment’s respite.
They were moving very slowly, the ashes getting so thick over the avenue pavements, that the zebras found it almost impossible to further beat their way through it. But one of the infrequent light spells now allowed them to look about again, and Enola saw that they had left the avenue. On an ordinary dark night this could have been easily detected by the sound of the zebras’ hoofs, but now the grass sod and the hard onyx pavement were the same; they were both lost beneath the carpet of ashes. This new aspect of things did not please our friends. They were being overcome very rapidly by the thick atmosphere; it was killing them by inches. They could scarcely breathe any longer; every breath was like the stab of a stiletto, the sharp particles of the ashes had penetrated and cut the soft membranes of the throat and lungs, and then that steamy air, upon touching the raw flesh would cause the most acute pain. Their hands and faces were blistered, and their eyes seemed to be burning out of their heads.
Enola and Nellie stood it better than Mrs. Graham. She had almost fallen from her zebra several times, and Nellie and Enola were now trying to ride on either side of her, to save her from falling, if possible. But it was growing worse each moment, and hope was nearly dead. They were staggering along in the darkness, the zebras every now and then stumbling up against a tree, and nearly rubbing their riders from their backs. They felt satisfied that they had lost their way, and if this was so, and they could not again reach the avenue, then, indeed, might all hope be abandoned. Black as Erebus, the air was not only laden with the death-dealing ashes, but was so hot and humid, that no living thing could withstand it for any length of time.
It seemed an age since that first awful rumbling of the earth, and this fearful darkness overtook them; it seemed that night ought to have given way to day and the day to night again. So acute was their pain, so fearful the darkness, so quiet all else but the rumbling of the earth and the hissing of the steam in the volcano, that time itself seemed to stand still waiting for the hellish scene to pass. In such a moment one could imagine that a lifetime had been passed, and if youthful features should be changed to those of old age in such a night of suffering, it would not seem strange, for in those few short hours more suffering is crowded than in many years of ordinary life, and when it is all over with, one cannot realize that this could be in such a short space of time. Then these women were fast losing consciousness; their brains were in a whirl; they could no longer think; they had almost grown insensible to their pain; their eyes no longertried to penetrate the darkness about them; they no longer tried to guide the zebras as they had done heretofore, notwithstanding that the zebras were more likely to know the right path than themselves. They still clung to the mane and rein and tried hard to retain their seats on the backs of the zebras, but they did this mechanically and not because they were guided by any spirit of self-protection.
They had now became separated too, and each of the zebra was trying to pick out a path for itself. But it was dreadful, for the zebras were now also wandering on from a mere sense of habit, and not because they had any longer any hope of escaping. Their heads dropped until their noses almost touched the ash-covered ground. Their eyelids seemed frozen in a cramped position over the eyes and the balls of their eyes looked out like pieces of glass which had been rubbed with sand paper. There was no longer any sight in those eyes; there could not be after being exposed to the beating ashes and dust as long as they had. The legs of the poor beasts were raw to the knees, but still they plodded through the ashes which must have set them crazy with pain, if they too had not lost all sense of pain.
Such dreadful sufferings could not help but make one helplessly mad. It was a hell, an awful, reason-destroying hell, but a merciful hell in a way, for although it lacerated the poor, tortured bodies of its victims, it at the same time destroyed all consciousness of their suffering. So like poor, undying spirits in a helpless state of painless suffering, if such a thing could be, the zebras wandered on, bearing the almost lifeless bodies of the women.
Suddenly Enola half roused herself and opened her swollen eyes. Only for a moment, however, for they soon closed again and she lapsed into that comatose state, and then had dropped to the zebra’s neck as before. But again the eyes half opened and this time she showed signs of returning consciousness.
But the eyes closed again for a moment and then she starts as if having been struck; no, she had not been mistaken, there it was, a light burning through the darkness. Could she call for help? Her throat was dry and parched; she had not tried to make a sound in hours, days it seemed to her, but she must try now; so opening the baked lips she made an effort, but it was useless. She could not articulate. But the zebras were moving slowly toward the light and they might see her yet. It must be the villa and they were safe at last. She turned to point the light out to her companions, but they are gone. She looked again, for just at that moment, the flash of light broke through the gloom. But no, her companions were no longer with her. Had they found their way to a place of safety and had she been lost in the darkness, or had they been lost? She tried to remember when she last saw them, but she could not. She had a faint recollection of their having all been together sometime during this awful night, or, was it night? She could not say. It might have been years ago, so indefinite had grown the flight of time. She again turned toward the light; yes, it was still there, and then she tried to turn the head of her zebra towards the spot. Her arm was stiff and she could hardly move, but she managed to slap the zebra on the side of the neck, but hedid not turn. He still wandered on in that aimless way, seeming to heed nothing.
Oh, this was fearful. She tried again and again but the only response the poor beast made, was to drop dead in his tracks. She felt him giving way under her and made a last effort to save herself, but too late; the beast caught her limbs as he fell and half burying her in the soft ashes, held her fast. She tried hard and wrenched the tender limbs until torn and bleeding, but to no purpose; she was held as secure as if tied to the side of the beast. She was too exhausted to make much of an effort, and the little she had made, had caused her to lose consciousness for the moment.
The moments flew by but all unknown to the poor, insensible girl and death seemed inevitable. There was no hope now, there could be none, unless it came from where that mocking light still gleamed through the darkness. But it would have been as helpful to the dying woman had it been ten miles away. It was better then, that the poor wanderer should never again wake to consciousness, for she would be saved the helpless suffering caused by knowing that she was near help and yet was beyond it.
The ashes still fell in torrents, the humid air was growing more intolerable each moment with the hot steam and dust, and the blackness had grown more intense. Yes, it could be felt, and here in the midst of all its hellish night, lay Enola dying.
But no, what is that huge mass which has almost tramped on her, but which stops just in time? It is Gip.
She tried hard and wrenched her limbs until torn and bleeding, but to no purpose.—Page338.
She tried hard and wrenched her limbs until torn and bleeding, but to no purpose.—Page338.
She tried hard and wrenched her limbs until torn and bleeding, but to no purpose.—Page338.