CHAPTER XXXI.LOST IN THE CAVERN.
They watched the funeral rites, and soon afterward discovered that they were lost in the ground, and did not know their bearings. They thought they must be several miles within, as the direction taken fromthe point where they entered the cave was several days’ journey from the City of On, and as they had traveled nearly due south, or as nearly as they could calculate, they must now be a good many miles from the secret door. They might take the same corridor which they had traversed in coming to the lake, as this would take them directly to the hole near which the rest of the excursionists were awaiting them; but this was dangerous and it was quite possible that before they had gone far into this, they would again fall into the hands of the natives.
They were in a quandary as to what to do. If they traveled to the east in quest of the hidden door, they might not find it, and before they could again reach the long corridor they would be overcome by hunger, thirst and fatigue.
“What shall we do,” asked Harry.
“I think,” said Mr. Bruce, “it would be well to strike straight for the north wall and when this is reached we may find another opening which will take us in a roundabout way to the hole leading to the surface. You know we left the windy corridor and took one to the right. This windy corridor may lead to this cavern also. If this were so it would come out further to the east, or may be at a point directly south of where we are now.”
“Even if that should be so,” said Mr. Graham, “could we beat against that wind for so many miles?”
“I am afraid not,” said Mr. Bruce, “but other corridors may lead from it, which would carry us into one or the other halls which we have already traversed, but at a point beyond all danger.”
“It is a chance, at least,” said Harry, “that is, if this corridor leads into the cave.”
“Are we beneath the Land of On, now?” asked Onrai, who had spoken but seldom since coming into this strange place.
“No, Onrai,” said Mr. Graham, “we are under the mountains or cliffs which surround your country. These though may be said to belong to the Land of On, or half of them at least, for they stand on the dividing line.”
“It is strange,” said Onrai, “that I should never have known of all this or that my people had never learned of it before me.”
For a second time Onrai had spoken thus and the events of the past few hours seemed to have made a great impression on his mind; he could not realize that all these things had existed for years and hundreds of years. It all seemed so improbable to one who had been taught to believe that his race was the only people and that his or their land above the surface, was the only country. He had seen strange things in the past few hours the only strange things he had ever seen in his life, with the exception of our friends, if they may be classed under this category.
“I will have strange tales to tell my people,” said Onrai.
“You must not tell them of these things,” said Mr. Graham, “for it would but make them discontented and long to see them also. It would be much better never to mention these; you can easily evade the subject when broached and our people will never say anything.”
“Do you think they would care to investigate?”asked Onrai. “I would never care to come here again and I cannot believe that they would ever care to visit this place if I should explain to them the danger and trouble attending the trip.”
“Yes, it would be better, would it not?” said Mr. Bruce, “to obey the laws which have governed you for centuries, and which forbids your prying into anything which has not already been explained by these laws.”
“I begin to think as you do,” said Onrai, “but I doubt my ability to keep from my people, should they ask me, the things which I have learned here. We have never had secrets, as you have taught me to call these things, and I have not learned the art of withholding things which I do not wish to say.”
“Nothing may be said to you about your journey, and then it would be easy enough, would it not, to keep these things to yourself?”
“It may be so,” said Onrai.
They were traveling in a good easy walk, and were covering considerable ground, but they were growing weary and it was decided to rest for a few hours. This they proceeded to do, but before they stretched out on the hard floor, they blew out the torches so that any of the natives, who might be prowling about, would not see them and again be on them. The journey had been long and they had had but little rest, so when they finally lay down and stretched out their weary limbs, their eyes soon closed and all was forgotten in a very few moments. The hard floor of the cave, the memories of the recent events, the fear of not again finding their way out of the dark hole, these things could not keep them awake for they were wornout, mind and body, and once they had fallen into a reclining position, they were soon oblivious to everything.
They had been sleeping for hours, it seemed to Harry, when he was awakened by a distant cry. It sounded to him like the yell of the natives, when they had first discovered the strangers. He looked about him half dreamily but could see nothing and turned over, thinking he would sleep awhile longer as the others had not yet awakened. He was just falling off again, when that cry broke out just a little shriller than before. This time Harry jumped to his feet, certain now of its being a human cry. He looked about him, he even took a few steps away from his sleeping companions, and stopping again, listened. No, he could hear nothing; still, he was sure that he had not been mistaken. All sleep had now been knocked out of him, and feeling refreshed he knew that he had been sleeping for some time. He walked over to his companions and awakened them, but before he had time to interfere or explain to them what it was that had awakened him, Mr. Bruce had lit a match, and with this, the torch. Harry made a movement as if he would extinguish this, and not having heard the sound after this second awakening, he thought there might be just a possibility of his having been mistaken. But he told his companions of the occurrence so that they might not blame him if anything should come of it later.
“I could not say that you were mistaken, Harry,” said Mr. Bruce, “but it seems very probable that we would see some light if these natives were again on our track.”
“Yes,” said Harry, “I don’t suppose they have dark lanterns which would give them light, but would still keep the light hid from us.”
“They might have such lights,” said Mr. Graham, “but we would see the reflection on the ground, at least.”
They had now started again when Harry stopped, saying:
“How do we know that we are moving in the right direction? We may have turned completely in our moving about, and may now be making a bee line for the lake.”
The party stopped, looking at each other in a puzzled way. Mr. Bruce’s face lighted up though as he asked:
“Did you touch my torch, Harry?”
“No,” answered Harry.
“Well, and then we can depend on it, that we are moving in the same direction that we were before, for I laid down the torch with the burnt end looking in the direction we were going when I laid down, and when I picked it up and lighted it again, after you had awakened us, I remember I was standing facing the same way, and I did not turn again before we started.”
“But that tells nothing,” said Mr. Graham, “for we may be walking round and round in a circle not a mile in circumference. We have nothing to guide us, and it very often occurs, in cases of this kind, that the travelers who think themselves miles away from their starting point will, the next moment, bring up at the same spot.”
The friends stood and looked at each other as Mr.Bruce said this; the terrible truth flashing upon them. It was only too true; they were helpless in this great dark cavern. They might wander until starved and famished, and still be miles from the encircling wall, or may be but a few feet from it. It would only be chance if they should come up to the wall; not chance either, for even chance was barred in this Egyptian darkness. It would be the hand of Providence which saved them if they should ever now escape from this cave. If they had followed the lake until the bridge had been reached, they could then have followed the old path to the hidden door, and in that way have gotten out. But no, the only thought they had in getting away from the scene of such carnage, was to leave it far behind and to reach their friends as soon as possible.
They realized their mistake, but now it was too late. The thought completely prostrated them as its full significance dawned upon them.
“But we must not give up while there is strength left,” said Mr. Bruce; “so let us go on in some way, even if we are bearing right away from our goal. We may be right, you know. Anyway we will never find our way out of this by standing still.”
They again took up their way, but with a halfheartedness, which made every step a task and every movement painful. It was strange how these strong men, who had just gotten up from a refreshing sleep, well and hearty, should so soon be changed to despondent beings; their faces looking years older and their gait indicating feebleness. Such is the change which the awful sense of complete helplessness had wrought in these men. They had hit upon a possibility, even aprobability, and all else had been forgotten from that moment they had given themselves up for lost, lost in this vast cavern, which had probably been the tomb of many others.
When these thoughts took possession of them, they could not be persuaded that there was any possibility of escape, and it was no wonder they lost hope so quickly, for here was a cave miles in extent, without a guiding light or post to beckon them on. All was dark and still as the death which would so soon claim them. For some strange reason, Onrai seemed to be more affected than any of the others. He said but little, but his face was painful to look at, so frightfully changed had it become. He shuffled along, his shoulders bent and feet dragging over the ground like a man of eighty.
Occasionally he would mutter to himself:
“I have missed my Day of Resis!”
This seemed to be the thing which was worrying him.
“Wait,” said Harry, and they all stopped suddenly, for this was the first word which had been spoken by any of the party excepting Onrai. “When wandering in the cave, as we came,” went on Harry, “I remember seeing pieces of coal lying along the path. The thought has just occurred to me that these marked the path, or else how could the natives find their way. Now, if we could find these.”
“But these would be as hard to find as the border wall,” said Mr. Graham.
“True,” said Harry, his face again falling, “but it is another chance and this makes two.”
This cheered them but little, however, and despairtook possession of them completely a few moments later. They ought to have reached the wall hours before, yet there were no signs of it. Suddenly they were brought to a stand by the same cry, which had awakened Harry. There was no mistaking it now; it was human and right in front of them.
Our friends stopped. There was no mistaking the cry now; it was human and only a few feet ahead of them. They peered through the gloom but could see nothing; the man, whoever he was, could not be far away, so they moved forward and a moment later a dark mass was seen lying on the floor of the cave just ahead of them. As they hurried up to this, another cry went up from the heap. Our friends now came up to the object and found it to be a native. As they approached and stood over him, he raised his head and looked at them in a half-scared way and then tried to crawl away from them. Seeing them following him he raised to his feet and staggered along for a short distance but again fell. The party now saw that his left side from knee to shoulder was badly lacerated, but how had he come into this condition? Had he been wounded in a fight or in a blast and brought to this fearful place to die?
Although this man was probably one of their captors and would have helped to kill them if they had not turned the tables on them, still the man’s plight was so pitiful and his condition so helpless that their sympathy went out to him at once and coming up close to where he had fallen, Mr. Graham stooped and taking the bag of water from his back, poured its contents over the raw wounds of the native. He writhed under the momentary pain, but realizing that theywished to help him, he tried to facilitate their good acts by turning his side to them, exposing the wound. He kept looking at Onrai, as if the King had a fascination for him, which he could not resist and at last he raised his hand and motioned to Onrai to approach. Onrai came up to him and the native looked at him for fully a moment, then addressed him in the language of On.
Onrai started back completely surprised by hearing his own language spoken by this man. The native’s face fell, showing that he had built much on this disclosure to the King and the result had bitterly disappointed him.
“Speak to him, Onrai,” said Mr. Bruce.
Onrai again stepped up to the native and asked him how he had become acquainted with his language.
“The story is long and I am hurt,” answered the man, “but if you will carry me to the lake, where my companions were killed, and let me there wash my wounds, I will tell you all.”
“The lake,” said Mr. Graham, “why, my good man, that is many miles away.”
“No,” answered the man, “it is only a short distance from here.”
Our friends looked at each other with astonishment; they had seen the lake upon their entrance; their fears then had been realized; they had been describing a circle and were now but a few feet from the starting point. But there was now hope and the men carefully lifted the native and carried him in the direction indicated by him and in less than five minutes they were again standing by an underground lake. The man was laid on the floor of the cave and his woundswashed again with water. Harry tore from his tunic a piece of the silk and this was bound about the wound.
“Do you know a way by which we can reach the death chamber without traversing that part of the cave where your people live?” Onrai asked.
“I do,” said the man, “but I could not explain so that you could understand.”
“But if we took you with us, could you guide us?” asked Onrai.
“But am I strong enough to walk?” asked the man, and he tried to rise to his feet.
“You may be able to walk a part of the way and we will carry you the remainder,” said Onrai.
“I can guide you,” said the stranger, and his face lighted up with hope as he thought that he might yet see that great outside world of which he had heard. The more the native thought of this, the more probable it seemed to him and with this great hope springing into life came renewed energy, and after awhile, when Mr. Bruce had bandaged the wounds well and he had been given something to eat he stood erect and declared that he could walk as well as ever. But this he could not do, although with help he got along very well for a time, and then Onrai picked him up in his powerful arms and carried him as if he were a babe.
Before leaving the lake they had caught some fish after the method of the natives and had cooked them over a slow fire. This they hoped would last them until they reached the upper world. They found the line of coals and found it easy work to follow it. The way was long but not tedious, still there was that desire to leave this place which made the time long andthe journey anything but pleasant. The native was doing very well with the help of Onrai and would very frequently relate such things concerning his people and country which would help to while away the time.
“We do not know,” said he, “when first our people came into this underground world, nor do we know from whence they came; but we do know from traditions handed down, that we have had this world many, many ages. Then our old tunnels have been abandoned many ages, how many we know not, nor do we know why these have been laid aside for new ones, unless it be because new ones had to be built in order to keep down our population.”
“What do you mean by that?” inquired Mr. Bruce.
“Why,” said the native, “our people increase very rapidly and we can only keep them within bounds by constantly blasting these tunnels. Each blast costs the life of one of our men.”
“But what of the women,” asked Mr. Bruce.
“The women and criminals are all fed to the water-monster,” said the man.
“But are none of these placed in the death chamber?” again asked Mr. Bruce.
“None,” answered the native. “The death chamber is only for the men. At the end of these long tunnels, is the Tunnel of Wind, which keeps a circulation of air in all of them. The wind flies through this tunnel, making no sound and giving no warning, and when once in its awful clutch you are lost.”
“But how do you embalm the bodies of your men,” questioned Mr. Bruce.
“With a preparation of coal and yellow stone, whichwe find in one part of our country. These are pounded into a powder and are then mixed with fish oil and rolled into small cakes and left to dry. These we burn beneath the bodies and the smoke puts them in a state of preservation.”
Our friends had now reached the wall and were about to enter the tunnel indicated by the native when a body of natives jumped forth only a few feet distant and rushed onto them. The explorers started back and seeing that there was a great number of them, decided on retreating. They accordingly followed the wall to the east, running as fast as they could with the wounded native. The natives were following them closely, and our friends, seeing another tunnel, opening out from the cave, turned into it and hurried forward. The natives were hurrying after them. On they rushed covering mile after mile, until breath and strength were nearly exhausted. The natives had called out to them in their language to drop the one of their number which Onrai was carrying. The man interpreted this to Onrai but it only had the effect of making him hold him all the tighter. But after a while the natives began to drop off one by one and our friends were thinking of turning on them, when they saw their tunnel ending in one running at right angles with it. Hurriedly they pushed forward and were just on the edge of the cross-tunnel, when the native called out:
“Not in there, it is the Tunnel of Wind;” but it was too late. They were launched into it and were even now in the power of the mighty wind.