Chapter Eighteen.Golden Dreams.I saw Lilla but once alone, and then the encounter was not of my seeking. She came up to me, though, with a sweet, sad expression in her face and a trusting look in her eyes that made my heart bound, as she laid her hands in mine and thanked me for what she called my gallantry; and I was so taken up by her words that I hardly noticed the scowl Garcia gave as he came in. In fact, just then my heart felt so large that in my joy I could have shaken hands with him so warmly that I should have made the bones of that fishy fin of his crack again.But there was no handshaking: Garcia walking to the window and lighting a cigar, while Lilla hurried from the room, as was now her custom when Garcia came.The first flush of joy passed and I was alone with the half-breed, to feel how impossible any friendly feeling was between us; and seeing that he was disposed to do nothing but stare at me in a half-sneering, half-scowling fashion, I strolled out, paying no heed to the burning sun as I made for the woods, where the trees screened me; and then on and on I went, mile after mile, through the hot steamy twilight, amidst giants of vegetation hoary with moss. Beast or reptile, harmless or noxious, troubled me little now, for I was in pursuit of the golden idol of my thoughts, winning it from its concealment, and then, with everything around gilded by its lustre, living in a future that was all happiness and joy.But I was not always dreaming. At times I searched eagerly in places that I thought likely to be the homes of buried Peruvian treasure; without avail, though, for I had no guide—nothing but tradition and the misty phantoms of bygone readings.To the people at the hacienda my wanderings must have seemed absurd, for though I took my gun I never brought anything back. This day game was in abundance, but I did not heed it—only wandered on till I came to a rugged part of the forest far up the mountain-side, and seated myself on a lump of moss-grown rock in a gloomy, shady spot, tired and discouraged by the thought that I was pursuing a phantom.What should I do, then? I asked myself. Go, as my uncle advised, to Texas? That meant separation; and yet I knew that I could not stay, and, in spite of all my golden hopes, the future looked very black to me. I kept putting it off, but it would come. I must look the difficulty in the face—the end must arrive; and I laughed bitterly as I thought of my prospect—even if such treasures as I had heard of did exist—of finding either of them in the vast wilds spread for hundreds of miles around.My meditations were interrupted by the sharp crackle made by a dry twig trampled upon by a foot; there was a rustling noise close behind me, and as I turned I became aware of a face peering out at me from a dense bank of creepers, as a voice whispered:“Is your gun loaded, Mas’r Harry?”“You here, Tom!” I exclaimed.“Course I am!” said Tom indignantly. “What else did I come out here for if it wasn’t to take care of you? And a nice game you’re carrying on—playing bo-peep with a fellow! Here you are one minute, and I says to myself, ‘He won’t go out this morning.’ Next moment I look round, and you’re gone! But this here sort of thing won’t do, sir! If you’re going on like this I shall give notice to leave, or else I shall never get back alive.”“Why not?” I said, laughing at his anxious face.“’Cause of these here rambling ways of yours, sir.”“And if I take care, pray what danger is there in them, Tom?”“Care—care!” echoed Tom. “Why, that’s what you don’t take, sir. I’m ‘Care,’ and you leave me at home. You don’t say, ‘Come and look after me, Tom,’ but go on trusting to yourself, while all the time you’re like some one in a dream.”“But what is there to be afraid of, Tom?”“Sarpints, sir!”“Pooh, Tom! We can shoot them, eh?—even if they are a hundred feet long! Well, what else?”Tom grinned before he spoke.“Jaggers, sir!”“Seldom out except of a night, Tom.”“Fevers, sir!”“Only in the low river-side parts, Tom. We’re hundreds of feet above the river here.”“Snakes in the grass, sir!”“Pooh, Tom! They always glide off when they hear one coming.”“Not my sort, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom in an anxious whisper. “They’re a dangerous sort, with a kind of captain, and he’s a half-breed. If you will have it, and won’t listen to reason, you must. Mas’r Harry, there’s snakes in the grass—Indian-looking chaps who watch your every step, sir. You haven’t thought it; but I’ve always been on the look-out, and as they’ve watched you, I’ve watched them. But they got behind me to-day, Mas’r Harry, and saw me; and I don’t know what to think—whether Muster Garcia has sent ’em, or whether they think you are looking for anything of theirs. You don’t think it, Mas’r Harry, but at this very minute they’re busy at work watching us.”I started slightly at one of his remarks, but passed it off lightly.“Pooh, Tom!” I said. “Who’s dreaming now?”“Not me, Mas’r Harry. I was never so wide awake in my life. I tell you, sir, I’ve seen you poking and stirring up amongst the sticks and stones in all sorts of places, just as if you was looking for some old woman’s buried crock of crooked sixpences; and as soon as you’ve been gone these Indian chaps have come and looked, and stroked all the leaves and moss straight again. You’re after something, Mas’r Harry, and they’re after something; but I can’t quite see through any of you yet. Wants a good, stout, double-wicked six held the other side, and then I could read you both like a book.”“Nonsense, Tom—nonsense!” I cried; though I felt troubled, and a vague sense of uneasiness seemed to come over me.“P’r’aps it is nonsense, Mas’r Harry—perhaps it ain’t. But this here ain’t Old England; so don’t you get thinking as there’s a policeman round every corner to come and help you, because there ain’t, no more than there’s a public-house round the corner to get half a pint when a fellow’s tongue’s dried up to his roof. So now let’s understand one another, Mas’r Harry. You’ve got to keep close up to the house.”“Nonsense!” I exclaimed. “What good would that do? Look here, Tom, my good fellow: I know you are faithful and true-hearted, but you have been following me about till you have found a mare’s nest and seen an enemy in every Indian. You must learn to keep your place, Tom, and not to interfere.”Tom did not answer—he only looked sulky. Then, spitting in his hands, he rubbed them together, crawled out of the bush, stood up, let his gun fall into the hollow of his arm, and then thrusting his hands into his pockets, stood looking at me, as if prepared for the worst.“Going any farther, Mas’r Harry?” he said as I rose.“Yes,” I said, “I’m going up this gorge.”Then with Tom closely following, I climbed on till we were in a vast rift, whose sides were one mass of beautiful verdure spangled with bright blossoms. High overhead, towering up and up, were the mountains, whose snow-capped summits glistened and flashed in the sun, while the ridges and ravines were either glittering and gorgeous or shadowy and of a deep, rich purple, fading into the blackness of night.I stopped gazing around at the platform above platform of rock rising above me, and thought of what a magnificent site one of the flat table-lands would make for a town, little thinking that once a rich city had flourished there. Even Tom seemed attracted by the beauty of the scene, for he stood gazing about till, seeing my intent, he came close behind me again, and together, with the traveller’s love of treading the fresh and untried soil, we pressed on, climbing over loose fragments of rock, peering into the stream that bubbled musically down the bottom of the gorge, wending our way through the high growth of long tangled grass, till the gorge seemed to plunge into darkness, a huge eminence blocking the way, in whose face appeared a low, broad archway, forming the entrance to a tunnel, leading who could tell where?Any attempt to follow another track was vain, as I soon perceived; for, as I saw, the gorge seemed to be continued beneath the archway, while right and left the rock was precipitous beyond the possibility of climbing even to the shelves, where ancient trees had securely rooted themselves in the sparse soil, to hang over and lend their gloom to the sombre scene.But in spite of its mystery there was a something attractive in the vast cavern, from which it now became evident the little river sprang; for it ran trickling out beneath the rocks we clambered over, till we stood gazing in towards the shadowy depth, listening to strange echoes of a murmuring rising and falling sound that dominated all the faint whispers that escaped, as it were, from time to time to the light of day.“What do you think of this, Tom?” I said, after vainly trying to see the cavern’s extent.“Think, Mas’r Harry? Why, it looks to me like the front door to Bogyland. But do let’s get back, sir; for I was never so hungry before in my life. I say stop, Mas’r Harry—what are you a-going to do?”“Do! Why, go in and explore the place, to be sure, Tom,” I cried, beginning to climb the rocky barrier that barred the way into the cavern.“No, I say, pray don’t, Mas’r Harry!” cried Tom dolefully. “I ain’t afraid in the light, when you can see what you are doing, but I can’t stand the dark, nohow. Don’t go, Mas’r Harry. Think of what your poor mother would say.”“Hold your tongue, will you, you great calf!” I exclaimed angrily.For an intense desire seemed to come over me to explore this dim, shadowy region. For what might we not find there treasured? It might be the ante-chamber to some rich, forgotten mine—one of the natural storehouses from which the old Peruvians had been used to extract their vast treasures. There were riches inexhaustible in the bowels of the earth, I knew, and if this were one of the gates by which they could be reached, held back from causes induced by cowardice I would not be—I had too great a prize to win.But before I had crossed this natural barrier to the entrance, reason told me that I must have light, and provision, and strength for the undertaking; and at that time I had neither. There was nothing for it then but to listen to the voice of reason, as personified by Tom; and with a sigh I climbed back just as he was going to join me.I saw plainly enough that it must be nightfall before we could reach home; and, getting free of the rocks, I was musing, and wondering whether, after all, I had hit upon a discovery, when Tom whispered to me, with averted head, to look to the right under the trees.I did so, and became aware of a shadowy figure slinking off amongst the bushes, but I took little heed of it then, trudging on as fast as the nature of the ground would allow; and at last, thoroughly worn out in body, but with my imagination heated, I reached the hacienda.That evening, when I was alone with my uncle, I mentioned my discovery, and asked him if ever the cavern had been explored.“Never that I am aware of, Harry,” he said quietly; “and I don’t think it would profit much the explorer. I have heard of the cave; it is a sort of sanctified place amongst the Indians, who people it with ghosts and goblins, such as they know how to invent. Let me see, what do they call the place in their barbarous tongue? Ah! I remember now—Tehutlan. I had forgotten its very existence. One of the old Peruvian gods used to live there in olden times, I believe, as a sort of dragon to watch over the hidden treasures of the earth. You had better search there and bring some of them out, or catch the dragon himself; he would make your fortune as an exhibitor in New York.”“And you think, Uncle, it has never been explored?” I said, without replying to his last remark.“My dear boy, for goodness’ sake give up dreaming and take to reality,” he said pettishly. “Explored? Yes. I remember how they say the Spaniards explored it, and butchered a lot of the poor Peruvians there like so many sheep, but they found nothing. Don’t think about treasure-seeking, Hal—it’s a mistake; fortunes have to be made by toil and scheming, not by haphazard proceedings; but all the same I must say,” he added musingly, “they do tell of the golden ornaments and vessels of the sun-worship hidden by the poor conquered people ages ago to preserve them from their greedy conquerors. Their places are known even now, they say, having been handed down from father to son.”“But did you ever search?” I said eagerly.“Who? I? Pooh! Nonsense, Hal! My idea always was that gold was to be grown, not searched for; but after all, I might just as well have gone upon a harum-scarum gold-hunt as have sunk my few poor hundreds here.”The conversation was directly changed, for Garcia came in to take his evening cigar with the family, looking the while dark and scowling; but it had little effect upon me, for my thoughts were running upon the dim, mysterious cavern, with its echoes and shadows; and the more I thought, the more it seemed possible that a natural or an artificial discovery might there be made. By artificial, I meant the finding of a buried treasure. With the old profusion of gold in the land there must have been some rich mines. Why might not this be one of them?“Anyhow, I have nothing to lose,” I said to myself; and at last I retired to rest, excited with the thoughts of Lilla and the riches I might find—the consequence being that I lay awake half the night, forming all sorts of impossible schemes; but above all determining that, come what might, I would explore the great cavern of Tehutlan—if. If what? If I could find it again.
I saw Lilla but once alone, and then the encounter was not of my seeking. She came up to me, though, with a sweet, sad expression in her face and a trusting look in her eyes that made my heart bound, as she laid her hands in mine and thanked me for what she called my gallantry; and I was so taken up by her words that I hardly noticed the scowl Garcia gave as he came in. In fact, just then my heart felt so large that in my joy I could have shaken hands with him so warmly that I should have made the bones of that fishy fin of his crack again.
But there was no handshaking: Garcia walking to the window and lighting a cigar, while Lilla hurried from the room, as was now her custom when Garcia came.
The first flush of joy passed and I was alone with the half-breed, to feel how impossible any friendly feeling was between us; and seeing that he was disposed to do nothing but stare at me in a half-sneering, half-scowling fashion, I strolled out, paying no heed to the burning sun as I made for the woods, where the trees screened me; and then on and on I went, mile after mile, through the hot steamy twilight, amidst giants of vegetation hoary with moss. Beast or reptile, harmless or noxious, troubled me little now, for I was in pursuit of the golden idol of my thoughts, winning it from its concealment, and then, with everything around gilded by its lustre, living in a future that was all happiness and joy.
But I was not always dreaming. At times I searched eagerly in places that I thought likely to be the homes of buried Peruvian treasure; without avail, though, for I had no guide—nothing but tradition and the misty phantoms of bygone readings.
To the people at the hacienda my wanderings must have seemed absurd, for though I took my gun I never brought anything back. This day game was in abundance, but I did not heed it—only wandered on till I came to a rugged part of the forest far up the mountain-side, and seated myself on a lump of moss-grown rock in a gloomy, shady spot, tired and discouraged by the thought that I was pursuing a phantom.
What should I do, then? I asked myself. Go, as my uncle advised, to Texas? That meant separation; and yet I knew that I could not stay, and, in spite of all my golden hopes, the future looked very black to me. I kept putting it off, but it would come. I must look the difficulty in the face—the end must arrive; and I laughed bitterly as I thought of my prospect—even if such treasures as I had heard of did exist—of finding either of them in the vast wilds spread for hundreds of miles around.
My meditations were interrupted by the sharp crackle made by a dry twig trampled upon by a foot; there was a rustling noise close behind me, and as I turned I became aware of a face peering out at me from a dense bank of creepers, as a voice whispered:
“Is your gun loaded, Mas’r Harry?”
“You here, Tom!” I exclaimed.
“Course I am!” said Tom indignantly. “What else did I come out here for if it wasn’t to take care of you? And a nice game you’re carrying on—playing bo-peep with a fellow! Here you are one minute, and I says to myself, ‘He won’t go out this morning.’ Next moment I look round, and you’re gone! But this here sort of thing won’t do, sir! If you’re going on like this I shall give notice to leave, or else I shall never get back alive.”
“Why not?” I said, laughing at his anxious face.
“’Cause of these here rambling ways of yours, sir.”
“And if I take care, pray what danger is there in them, Tom?”
“Care—care!” echoed Tom. “Why, that’s what you don’t take, sir. I’m ‘Care,’ and you leave me at home. You don’t say, ‘Come and look after me, Tom,’ but go on trusting to yourself, while all the time you’re like some one in a dream.”
“But what is there to be afraid of, Tom?”
“Sarpints, sir!”
“Pooh, Tom! We can shoot them, eh?—even if they are a hundred feet long! Well, what else?”
Tom grinned before he spoke.
“Jaggers, sir!”
“Seldom out except of a night, Tom.”
“Fevers, sir!”
“Only in the low river-side parts, Tom. We’re hundreds of feet above the river here.”
“Snakes in the grass, sir!”
“Pooh, Tom! They always glide off when they hear one coming.”
“Not my sort, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom in an anxious whisper. “They’re a dangerous sort, with a kind of captain, and he’s a half-breed. If you will have it, and won’t listen to reason, you must. Mas’r Harry, there’s snakes in the grass—Indian-looking chaps who watch your every step, sir. You haven’t thought it; but I’ve always been on the look-out, and as they’ve watched you, I’ve watched them. But they got behind me to-day, Mas’r Harry, and saw me; and I don’t know what to think—whether Muster Garcia has sent ’em, or whether they think you are looking for anything of theirs. You don’t think it, Mas’r Harry, but at this very minute they’re busy at work watching us.”
I started slightly at one of his remarks, but passed it off lightly.
“Pooh, Tom!” I said. “Who’s dreaming now?”
“Not me, Mas’r Harry. I was never so wide awake in my life. I tell you, sir, I’ve seen you poking and stirring up amongst the sticks and stones in all sorts of places, just as if you was looking for some old woman’s buried crock of crooked sixpences; and as soon as you’ve been gone these Indian chaps have come and looked, and stroked all the leaves and moss straight again. You’re after something, Mas’r Harry, and they’re after something; but I can’t quite see through any of you yet. Wants a good, stout, double-wicked six held the other side, and then I could read you both like a book.”
“Nonsense, Tom—nonsense!” I cried; though I felt troubled, and a vague sense of uneasiness seemed to come over me.
“P’r’aps it is nonsense, Mas’r Harry—perhaps it ain’t. But this here ain’t Old England; so don’t you get thinking as there’s a policeman round every corner to come and help you, because there ain’t, no more than there’s a public-house round the corner to get half a pint when a fellow’s tongue’s dried up to his roof. So now let’s understand one another, Mas’r Harry. You’ve got to keep close up to the house.”
“Nonsense!” I exclaimed. “What good would that do? Look here, Tom, my good fellow: I know you are faithful and true-hearted, but you have been following me about till you have found a mare’s nest and seen an enemy in every Indian. You must learn to keep your place, Tom, and not to interfere.”
Tom did not answer—he only looked sulky. Then, spitting in his hands, he rubbed them together, crawled out of the bush, stood up, let his gun fall into the hollow of his arm, and then thrusting his hands into his pockets, stood looking at me, as if prepared for the worst.
“Going any farther, Mas’r Harry?” he said as I rose.
“Yes,” I said, “I’m going up this gorge.”
Then with Tom closely following, I climbed on till we were in a vast rift, whose sides were one mass of beautiful verdure spangled with bright blossoms. High overhead, towering up and up, were the mountains, whose snow-capped summits glistened and flashed in the sun, while the ridges and ravines were either glittering and gorgeous or shadowy and of a deep, rich purple, fading into the blackness of night.
I stopped gazing around at the platform above platform of rock rising above me, and thought of what a magnificent site one of the flat table-lands would make for a town, little thinking that once a rich city had flourished there. Even Tom seemed attracted by the beauty of the scene, for he stood gazing about till, seeing my intent, he came close behind me again, and together, with the traveller’s love of treading the fresh and untried soil, we pressed on, climbing over loose fragments of rock, peering into the stream that bubbled musically down the bottom of the gorge, wending our way through the high growth of long tangled grass, till the gorge seemed to plunge into darkness, a huge eminence blocking the way, in whose face appeared a low, broad archway, forming the entrance to a tunnel, leading who could tell where?
Any attempt to follow another track was vain, as I soon perceived; for, as I saw, the gorge seemed to be continued beneath the archway, while right and left the rock was precipitous beyond the possibility of climbing even to the shelves, where ancient trees had securely rooted themselves in the sparse soil, to hang over and lend their gloom to the sombre scene.
But in spite of its mystery there was a something attractive in the vast cavern, from which it now became evident the little river sprang; for it ran trickling out beneath the rocks we clambered over, till we stood gazing in towards the shadowy depth, listening to strange echoes of a murmuring rising and falling sound that dominated all the faint whispers that escaped, as it were, from time to time to the light of day.
“What do you think of this, Tom?” I said, after vainly trying to see the cavern’s extent.
“Think, Mas’r Harry? Why, it looks to me like the front door to Bogyland. But do let’s get back, sir; for I was never so hungry before in my life. I say stop, Mas’r Harry—what are you a-going to do?”
“Do! Why, go in and explore the place, to be sure, Tom,” I cried, beginning to climb the rocky barrier that barred the way into the cavern.
“No, I say, pray don’t, Mas’r Harry!” cried Tom dolefully. “I ain’t afraid in the light, when you can see what you are doing, but I can’t stand the dark, nohow. Don’t go, Mas’r Harry. Think of what your poor mother would say.”
“Hold your tongue, will you, you great calf!” I exclaimed angrily.
For an intense desire seemed to come over me to explore this dim, shadowy region. For what might we not find there treasured? It might be the ante-chamber to some rich, forgotten mine—one of the natural storehouses from which the old Peruvians had been used to extract their vast treasures. There were riches inexhaustible in the bowels of the earth, I knew, and if this were one of the gates by which they could be reached, held back from causes induced by cowardice I would not be—I had too great a prize to win.
But before I had crossed this natural barrier to the entrance, reason told me that I must have light, and provision, and strength for the undertaking; and at that time I had neither. There was nothing for it then but to listen to the voice of reason, as personified by Tom; and with a sigh I climbed back just as he was going to join me.
I saw plainly enough that it must be nightfall before we could reach home; and, getting free of the rocks, I was musing, and wondering whether, after all, I had hit upon a discovery, when Tom whispered to me, with averted head, to look to the right under the trees.
I did so, and became aware of a shadowy figure slinking off amongst the bushes, but I took little heed of it then, trudging on as fast as the nature of the ground would allow; and at last, thoroughly worn out in body, but with my imagination heated, I reached the hacienda.
That evening, when I was alone with my uncle, I mentioned my discovery, and asked him if ever the cavern had been explored.
“Never that I am aware of, Harry,” he said quietly; “and I don’t think it would profit much the explorer. I have heard of the cave; it is a sort of sanctified place amongst the Indians, who people it with ghosts and goblins, such as they know how to invent. Let me see, what do they call the place in their barbarous tongue? Ah! I remember now—Tehutlan. I had forgotten its very existence. One of the old Peruvian gods used to live there in olden times, I believe, as a sort of dragon to watch over the hidden treasures of the earth. You had better search there and bring some of them out, or catch the dragon himself; he would make your fortune as an exhibitor in New York.”
“And you think, Uncle, it has never been explored?” I said, without replying to his last remark.
“My dear boy, for goodness’ sake give up dreaming and take to reality,” he said pettishly. “Explored? Yes. I remember how they say the Spaniards explored it, and butchered a lot of the poor Peruvians there like so many sheep, but they found nothing. Don’t think about treasure-seeking, Hal—it’s a mistake; fortunes have to be made by toil and scheming, not by haphazard proceedings; but all the same I must say,” he added musingly, “they do tell of the golden ornaments and vessels of the sun-worship hidden by the poor conquered people ages ago to preserve them from their greedy conquerors. Their places are known even now, they say, having been handed down from father to son.”
“But did you ever search?” I said eagerly.
“Who? I? Pooh! Nonsense, Hal! My idea always was that gold was to be grown, not searched for; but after all, I might just as well have gone upon a harum-scarum gold-hunt as have sunk my few poor hundreds here.”
The conversation was directly changed, for Garcia came in to take his evening cigar with the family, looking the while dark and scowling; but it had little effect upon me, for my thoughts were running upon the dim, mysterious cavern, with its echoes and shadows; and the more I thought, the more it seemed possible that a natural or an artificial discovery might there be made. By artificial, I meant the finding of a buried treasure. With the old profusion of gold in the land there must have been some rich mines. Why might not this be one of them?
“Anyhow, I have nothing to lose,” I said to myself; and at last I retired to rest, excited with the thoughts of Lilla and the riches I might find—the consequence being that I lay awake half the night, forming all sorts of impossible schemes; but above all determining that, come what might, I would explore the great cavern of Tehutlan—if. If what? If I could find it again.
Chapter Nineteen.Beginning to “burn.”The sun was rising and sending his golden arrows darting through the thick mist which hung over the plantation, as I went out into the court-yard, to find all still and peaceful, for work had not yet commenced.I had taken the precaution of laying in a good supply of provisions, which I carried in a wallet in company with flint and steel, matches, and several candles; for, instead of the morning light making my project seem absurd, I had grown warmer upon the subject, and come to the determination that if buried treasures had lain in the earth all these ages I might as well become the owner of one as for it to lie there another century, waiting some less scrupulous searcher.The night had not been passed without quiet thought, and I had come to the conclusion that if so much gold had been used for the embellishment of the various temples, and that gold had been hastily torn down and hidden, it would most probably be in the vicinity of a ruined temple.But at this present time I was red-hot for exploring the cavern, which did not fit with my common-sense argument, without it should prove that there had once existed a temple somewhere on one of the platforms at the side of the gorge, when, if that should be the case, I felt sure that I had hit upon the right place.What, then, was my first proceeding?Evidently to search the sides of the ravine for traces of some ancient building.Tom’s words on the previous day had not been without effect. It was quite possible that I was watched, either by some spy of Garcia’s, or, it might be, by some suspicious Indians who had seen me searching about, perhaps, for aught I could tell, close by one of the buried treasures, of whose existence they were aware.What a thought that was!—it sent a thrill through me, and roused me to fresh energy and determination.Under the circumstances, and granting that I had been watched—the figure I had seen corroborating Tom’s words—it was evidently my policy to get away unseen; and to achieve this I had risen thus early, swung on my wallet, and, armed with my gun, a hunting-knife, and a long iron rod, I walked softly round the house, but only to have my nostrils saluted by the fumes of tobacco, and the next instant I was face to face with Tom Bulk, leaning against a post and smoking.“Startin’ so soon, Mas’r Harry!” he said quietly. “I thought you’d be in good time this morning.”Then, paying not the slightest heed to my discontented looks, he knocked the ashes out of his pipe, shook himself together, and prepared to follow me.“But I don’t want you with me, Tom,” I said.“Dessay not, Mas’r Harry; but I’m a-coming all the same, and got my gun cleaned up ready.”I knew it was useless to complain—for Tom had already given me one or two samples of how obstinate he could turn—so I made the best of it; and, knowing that he was as trustworthy as man could be, I trudged on with him close behind, hour after hour, till, after several wanderings wide of the wished-for spot, we hit upon a little clear, cold, babbling stream.“I’ll bet tuppence that comes out of that big hole,” said Tom eagerly.The same thought had occurred to me; and now, just as I had given up all hope of finding the gorge that day, here was the silver clue that should lead us straight to its entrance.The stream led us, as we had expected, right to the mouth of the gorge—that is, to where the rocks, which had heretofore been only a gentle slope clothed with abundant vegetation, suddenly contracted, became precipitous, and broken up into patches of rich fertility and sterile grandeur.But now these charms were displayed in vain; for the gorge being reached, I prepared to examine carefully its sides, and accordingly began to climb.“Thought you meant the big hole, Mas’r Harry?” said Tom, gazing uneasily about, and evidently seeing an enemy in every lump of rock or trunk of tree.“Up here, Tom, first,” I said.He followed me sturdily, without a word, up, and up, and up, climbing over the precipitous sides, with tough root or fibrous vine lending us their aid, till, breathless, we stopped to gaze round or down into the rich ravine below.Platform after platform I reached, and then peered about amongst the dense growth in search of some trace of masonry; but though again and again the blocks of stone wore the appearance of having been piled together, I could find nothing definite—nothing but that ever-recurring dense foliage creeping over and hiding everything, till we had panted up another hundred feet, where a much larger table-land or platform extended before us.My heart beat painfully now; for, judging from appearances, it seemed that if ever temple had looked down upon the beautiful little vale, this must have been the spot where it was piled. The cavern was sacred to a god; there must, then, have been some temple or place of sacrifice near at hand, it seemed, and I longed to begin investigating; but only to seat myself upon a mossy block, dreading the search lest it should prove unfruitful, and so dash my golden visionary thoughts. But at length I was about to commence, when a throb of joy sent the blood coursing through my veins, for Tom said, in his dry ill-tempered way:“Been some building going on here some time or another, Mas’r Harry.”I started to my feet then, to find that the block I had used for my seat had once been squared for building, and on peering about, there, in every direction, amongst creeper, moss, and vine, lay fragments of some mighty temple. Some of the blocks were crumbling away; some square and fresh as if lately cut; and many of a size that was gigantic, and excited wonder as to how they could have been moved.I was right, then. Here had once been a grand temple; and if its treasures had been hidden by the ancient priests of the place, where so likely a concealment as the mysterious cave, whose gloomy entrance I could just distinguish far-off below us? The building must once have been grand, for every step revealed new traces, with the vegetable world completing the ruin commenced by man: mosses eating away, roots forcing themselves amongst interstices, and moving with mighty force stupendous blocks from their ancient sites.“Yes, this was the temple. I was right so far,” I exclaimed to myself. “Now, then, for the treasure! This way, Tom!” I exclaimed, turning to descend, eager now, and excited.But the descent was steep at times, even perilous, though I heeded it not; and in less than half an hour we should have reached the stream meandering through the rugged bottom of the ravine, had not Tom, who was always on the look-out for danger, suddenly dragged me down into the shelter of a mossy boulder, and, in reply to my inquiring look, contented himself with pointing a little below us to the left, when, following the direction of his arm, it seemed to me that my secret starting that morning had been in vain. The golden treasure, if it existed, appeared about to be snatched from my grasp—my knowledge was about to be met by cunning, perhaps force. We were watched. Of that there was no doubt, and my heart sank with bitter disappointment; for there, where Tom pointed, plainly to be seen peering at us from a clump of verdure, was a pair of sharp bright eyes, their owner being carefully hidden from view.
The sun was rising and sending his golden arrows darting through the thick mist which hung over the plantation, as I went out into the court-yard, to find all still and peaceful, for work had not yet commenced.
I had taken the precaution of laying in a good supply of provisions, which I carried in a wallet in company with flint and steel, matches, and several candles; for, instead of the morning light making my project seem absurd, I had grown warmer upon the subject, and come to the determination that if buried treasures had lain in the earth all these ages I might as well become the owner of one as for it to lie there another century, waiting some less scrupulous searcher.
The night had not been passed without quiet thought, and I had come to the conclusion that if so much gold had been used for the embellishment of the various temples, and that gold had been hastily torn down and hidden, it would most probably be in the vicinity of a ruined temple.
But at this present time I was red-hot for exploring the cavern, which did not fit with my common-sense argument, without it should prove that there had once existed a temple somewhere on one of the platforms at the side of the gorge, when, if that should be the case, I felt sure that I had hit upon the right place.
What, then, was my first proceeding?
Evidently to search the sides of the ravine for traces of some ancient building.
Tom’s words on the previous day had not been without effect. It was quite possible that I was watched, either by some spy of Garcia’s, or, it might be, by some suspicious Indians who had seen me searching about, perhaps, for aught I could tell, close by one of the buried treasures, of whose existence they were aware.
What a thought that was!—it sent a thrill through me, and roused me to fresh energy and determination.
Under the circumstances, and granting that I had been watched—the figure I had seen corroborating Tom’s words—it was evidently my policy to get away unseen; and to achieve this I had risen thus early, swung on my wallet, and, armed with my gun, a hunting-knife, and a long iron rod, I walked softly round the house, but only to have my nostrils saluted by the fumes of tobacco, and the next instant I was face to face with Tom Bulk, leaning against a post and smoking.
“Startin’ so soon, Mas’r Harry!” he said quietly. “I thought you’d be in good time this morning.”
Then, paying not the slightest heed to my discontented looks, he knocked the ashes out of his pipe, shook himself together, and prepared to follow me.
“But I don’t want you with me, Tom,” I said.
“Dessay not, Mas’r Harry; but I’m a-coming all the same, and got my gun cleaned up ready.”
I knew it was useless to complain—for Tom had already given me one or two samples of how obstinate he could turn—so I made the best of it; and, knowing that he was as trustworthy as man could be, I trudged on with him close behind, hour after hour, till, after several wanderings wide of the wished-for spot, we hit upon a little clear, cold, babbling stream.
“I’ll bet tuppence that comes out of that big hole,” said Tom eagerly.
The same thought had occurred to me; and now, just as I had given up all hope of finding the gorge that day, here was the silver clue that should lead us straight to its entrance.
The stream led us, as we had expected, right to the mouth of the gorge—that is, to where the rocks, which had heretofore been only a gentle slope clothed with abundant vegetation, suddenly contracted, became precipitous, and broken up into patches of rich fertility and sterile grandeur.
But now these charms were displayed in vain; for the gorge being reached, I prepared to examine carefully its sides, and accordingly began to climb.
“Thought you meant the big hole, Mas’r Harry?” said Tom, gazing uneasily about, and evidently seeing an enemy in every lump of rock or trunk of tree.
“Up here, Tom, first,” I said.
He followed me sturdily, without a word, up, and up, and up, climbing over the precipitous sides, with tough root or fibrous vine lending us their aid, till, breathless, we stopped to gaze round or down into the rich ravine below.
Platform after platform I reached, and then peered about amongst the dense growth in search of some trace of masonry; but though again and again the blocks of stone wore the appearance of having been piled together, I could find nothing definite—nothing but that ever-recurring dense foliage creeping over and hiding everything, till we had panted up another hundred feet, where a much larger table-land or platform extended before us.
My heart beat painfully now; for, judging from appearances, it seemed that if ever temple had looked down upon the beautiful little vale, this must have been the spot where it was piled. The cavern was sacred to a god; there must, then, have been some temple or place of sacrifice near at hand, it seemed, and I longed to begin investigating; but only to seat myself upon a mossy block, dreading the search lest it should prove unfruitful, and so dash my golden visionary thoughts. But at length I was about to commence, when a throb of joy sent the blood coursing through my veins, for Tom said, in his dry ill-tempered way:
“Been some building going on here some time or another, Mas’r Harry.”
I started to my feet then, to find that the block I had used for my seat had once been squared for building, and on peering about, there, in every direction, amongst creeper, moss, and vine, lay fragments of some mighty temple. Some of the blocks were crumbling away; some square and fresh as if lately cut; and many of a size that was gigantic, and excited wonder as to how they could have been moved.
I was right, then. Here had once been a grand temple; and if its treasures had been hidden by the ancient priests of the place, where so likely a concealment as the mysterious cave, whose gloomy entrance I could just distinguish far-off below us? The building must once have been grand, for every step revealed new traces, with the vegetable world completing the ruin commenced by man: mosses eating away, roots forcing themselves amongst interstices, and moving with mighty force stupendous blocks from their ancient sites.
“Yes, this was the temple. I was right so far,” I exclaimed to myself. “Now, then, for the treasure! This way, Tom!” I exclaimed, turning to descend, eager now, and excited.
But the descent was steep at times, even perilous, though I heeded it not; and in less than half an hour we should have reached the stream meandering through the rugged bottom of the ravine, had not Tom, who was always on the look-out for danger, suddenly dragged me down into the shelter of a mossy boulder, and, in reply to my inquiring look, contented himself with pointing a little below us to the left, when, following the direction of his arm, it seemed to me that my secret starting that morning had been in vain. The golden treasure, if it existed, appeared about to be snatched from my grasp—my knowledge was about to be met by cunning, perhaps force. We were watched. Of that there was no doubt, and my heart sank with bitter disappointment; for there, where Tom pointed, plainly to be seen peering at us from a clump of verdure, was a pair of sharp bright eyes, their owner being carefully hidden from view.
Chapter Twenty.In Shadowy Land.For quite a quarter of an hour we remained motionless—the watcher and the watched—Tom and I both well armed, and involuntarily our guns were pointed at the eyes; but the position was not one which justified firing. The ravine was as free to the owner of those eyes as to ourselves, and, after all, we had no proof that this was an enemy.I was in doubt as to our next proceeding, and had just come to the conclusion that our most sensible plan would be to turn back without going near the cavern at all, and so try to throw the enemy off the scent, for I felt certain that whether I discovered a treasure or no, I was on the right track, when Tom whispered eagerly to me:“Let’s show him that we know how to use our guns, Mas’r Harry. We won’t shoot him, but only give him a start. Look at that: there’s a poll-parrot—two of ’em—settled in the tree above him! It’s a long shot, but I think I could bring one down; so here goes!”Tom levelled his piece and the next instant would have fired, when the parroquets began chattering, screaming, and fighting together, fluttering down towards the bushes which concealed our watcher. Then there was a rush, a crashing of the undergrowth, and the owner of the eyes—a good-sized deer—bounded into sight for an instant, and then disappeared in a series of spring leaps, which soon took it out of sight in the dense growth.“Iam, blessed!” exclaimed Tom, in accents of the most profound disgust. “If I’d known, wouldn’t I have fired, that’s all! Had some venison to take back, Mas’r Harry.”“I’m very glad you did not, Tom,” I said.For I felt how the report of a gun would have published our whereabouts, if there really were any lurkers near—a thing that I must say I now thought very probable, since the fact of there being a treasure in the cave, held sacred by the Indians, would, as a matter of course, render them very jealous of intruders.“Where for now, Mas’r Harry?” said Tom.“The cavern, Tom,” I said.Finishing our descent we were not long in reaching the rocky barrier, evidently piled by Nature at the entrance of the vast frowning arch.We stopped and looked around suspiciously; but the gorge was silent as the grave—not a leaf stirred; there was neither the hum of insect nor the note of bird. Heat—glowing heat—reflected from the rocks, already not to be touched without pain—and silence.“Going in, Mas’r Harry?” said Tom.“Of course,” I replied.“Very good, Mas’r Harry; if you will, you will. But if we get lost, and then find ourselves right away down in no-man’s land, don’t you go and say it’s my fault.”I was in no mood to reply, and clambering up the hot rocks, with little glancing lizards and beetles rushing away at every step, we soon stood gazing in at the gloomy chamber, our eyes, unaccustomed to the gloom, penetrating but a few yards at a time, so that had there been a host of enemies within, they would have been unseen.“Now, Tom!” I said excitedly, as together we climbed down into the shade, to feel the cool and pleasant change from broiling heat to what was, comparatively, a very low temperature. “Now, Tom, we are going to explore one of the wonders of the world!”“Humph!” ejaculated Tom, who did not look at all pleased; “it’s very big, and large, and cool. But say, Mas’r Harry,” he exclaimed, brightening up, “it wouldn’t make half a bad place for keeping tallers! Yah! what’s that?”“Only a bird,” I said, as with a rush a couple of large birds had flown close by us, evidently alarmed at our visit to their home. “That’s a good sign, Tom, and shows that you need not fancy there’s an enemy behind every block of stone. If anyone was within those birds would not be there.”Tom grunted, and then, as if to show his unbelief, cocked both barrels of his gun, as, with eyes each moment growing more familiar with the gloom, we walked slowly forward into the darkness ahead—slowly, for the floor was rugged in places with fragments from the roof, and stalagmite. The roof was about fifty feet above our heads, and the span of the low corrugated arch, I should say, a hundred more than that. The stream was rippling noisily along, threading its way amongst the massive blocks of stone, murmuring musically over pebbles and sand. Now our way was wet and slimy, and then again rugged and dry, till, having penetrated some little distance with every precaution, we turned round to look back at the entrance, to see as pretty a picture as ever I gazed upon in my life. We could now see plainly the nature of the roof, hung with beautiful stalactites of many graceful forms, giving to the great arch the appearance of some grand specimen of Gothic tracery, through which we looked upon the ravine lit up by the outer sunshine, with its green, and gold, and blushing floral hues. It was a scene to be remembered for ever; but the gold in my thoughts seemed more glorious, and I turned from it without a sigh.Another dozen yards and a curve in the cave hid the entrance from sight; we were in gloomy shades, where a light was necessary; and before going farther I paused to think.If the treasure had been hidden there, where would it be?Reason said directly, in the most distant and inaccessible recesses of the vast cavern.And where was that? How far from the light of day?That was the problem I had set myself to solve, and, in spite of a feeling of awe with which the place inspired me, I prepared for the solution. It was no light task, and I have no shame in owning that I felt a strange reluctance to proceed along a rugged path wherein might at any time be yawning some fearful bottomless chasm, ready to swallow up the adventurer; but I would not show my dread, and if Tom felt any he was too obstinate to show his.By means of string we tied each a candle to our pistol barrels, and then set forward, walking slowly, now with the floor of the cavern ascending, now with it slopingdown with a steep and rugged gradient, but always with the little river gurgling in darkness by our side, sometimes almost on a level with our feet, at others, where the path rose, running in a deep chasm whose black darkness made one shudder.We must have penetrated, I should say, the greater part of a mile when the narrow rocky shelf upon which we were walking came to a sudden end, and holding down our candles, we tried to penetrate the depth before us, but in vain; we could only see a vast black abyss, over which we were standing upon a tongue of rock, while to right, to left, it was precisely the same—an awful falling away of all that was palpable—and we knew that a slip would have sent us to a horrible death.“This is a fearsome, unked place, Mas’r Harry,” whispered Tom; but his words went floating around as if taken up by a chorus of mocking voices, and a strange shudder crept through me.It was indeed awful, that vast obscurity, with death threatening us if we took another step; and I could not help thinking how easy it was for a people of a low order of intellect, blindly superstitious, to make this solemn hall the home of their poor idol. It was a place that took no little courage to explore, and often I felt my heart fail me ere I recalled the errand upon which I had come.Was it likely that, sooner than it should fall into the hands of the Spaniards, gold almost invaluable had been cast into this awful gulf? It was probable; but, as far as I could see, recovery would have been impossible, unless, after all, it was not so profound as the darkness made it appear. But then, how to descend? To swing by a rope over the fearful chasm would have unnerved the stoutest of heart, and I felt that I hardly could have dared such an adventure.This, then, must be the extent of the cavern—or rather of our power to explore it in this direction—for, as I have before said, we stood right out upon a projecting piece of rock from which descent was absolutely impossible, and there was nothing for it but to turn back.“Think it’s deep, Mas’r Harry?” whispered Tom loudly.“Deep—deep—deep—deep—deep—deep!” came whispering back from all sides, making Tom shiver; but he recovered himself directly, and taking a piece of greasy newspaper from his pocket he loosely crumpled it together, knelt down close to the brink of the abyss, lit the paper, and then threw it from him to blaze out brightly, and fall down—down rapidly—as it burned lower, and lower, and lower, till at a vast depth it burned out, but without illuminating anything. We saw no reflection from rocky point or gleaming water, and our feeling of awe was increased.“I’ll have another try, anyhow,” said Tom. “Ears will sometimes tell us what eyes won’t. Just lend a hand here, Mas’r Harry.”For a moment or two I shrank from assisting him, on seeing his object, but directly after applied one hand to a rough block of stone that lay at our side, weighing, I should think, a hundred pounds.We had about a couple of yards to move it, and then it rested upon the very brink, a shrinking sensation coming over me as I saw Tom stand, candle in hand, with one foot resting upon the rock ready to thrust it over.“Now, then, Mas’r Harry,” he said, “this’ll find the bottom if anything will. We shall soon know now. Say when!”I did not speak, for I was wondering whether that rough block was going down where that I coveted had been cast, and for a moment I was about to restrain Tom; but I thought that the fall of that stone would teach me whether the bottom was at an attainable depth or no, and I signed to Tom to thrust the fragment off.“Over, Mas’r Harry?”“Over!” I said in a whisper; and the next moment there was a grating noise and the stone had been thrust off to fall—fall—fall in silence, while with awe-stricken countenances we leaned over the gulf and listened, second after second, without avail, for no sound came up.“It’s gone bang through to the other side of the world, Mas’r Harry!” whispered Tom. “There ain’t no end to this place, for if it had been ever so deep you must have heard it touch bottom some time. Ain’t it awful!”It was awful, and a hand seemed clutching my heart as I thought of falling, ever falling like that, or of some enemy dashing me over into the fearful gulf. There seemed to be indeed no bottom within ordinary range, and the idea of descending by rope in search there of treasure was absurd.How long the stone had been falling I cannot say; but just as we had given up all thought of hearing of it more there came from the depths below a faint whisper of a splash, or of some pebble falling in water, but only for that whisper to be echoed and re-echoed from distant parts till it increased to a fearful roar that was some seconds in dying away.It was impossible to help a shudder upon hearing those horrible reverberations, each one telling of the awful profundity of the place—one which, without extensive mining apparatus, I felt that any fathoming for search was out of the question.
For quite a quarter of an hour we remained motionless—the watcher and the watched—Tom and I both well armed, and involuntarily our guns were pointed at the eyes; but the position was not one which justified firing. The ravine was as free to the owner of those eyes as to ourselves, and, after all, we had no proof that this was an enemy.
I was in doubt as to our next proceeding, and had just come to the conclusion that our most sensible plan would be to turn back without going near the cavern at all, and so try to throw the enemy off the scent, for I felt certain that whether I discovered a treasure or no, I was on the right track, when Tom whispered eagerly to me:
“Let’s show him that we know how to use our guns, Mas’r Harry. We won’t shoot him, but only give him a start. Look at that: there’s a poll-parrot—two of ’em—settled in the tree above him! It’s a long shot, but I think I could bring one down; so here goes!”
Tom levelled his piece and the next instant would have fired, when the parroquets began chattering, screaming, and fighting together, fluttering down towards the bushes which concealed our watcher. Then there was a rush, a crashing of the undergrowth, and the owner of the eyes—a good-sized deer—bounded into sight for an instant, and then disappeared in a series of spring leaps, which soon took it out of sight in the dense growth.
“Iam, blessed!” exclaimed Tom, in accents of the most profound disgust. “If I’d known, wouldn’t I have fired, that’s all! Had some venison to take back, Mas’r Harry.”
“I’m very glad you did not, Tom,” I said.
For I felt how the report of a gun would have published our whereabouts, if there really were any lurkers near—a thing that I must say I now thought very probable, since the fact of there being a treasure in the cave, held sacred by the Indians, would, as a matter of course, render them very jealous of intruders.
“Where for now, Mas’r Harry?” said Tom.
“The cavern, Tom,” I said.
Finishing our descent we were not long in reaching the rocky barrier, evidently piled by Nature at the entrance of the vast frowning arch.
We stopped and looked around suspiciously; but the gorge was silent as the grave—not a leaf stirred; there was neither the hum of insect nor the note of bird. Heat—glowing heat—reflected from the rocks, already not to be touched without pain—and silence.
“Going in, Mas’r Harry?” said Tom.
“Of course,” I replied.
“Very good, Mas’r Harry; if you will, you will. But if we get lost, and then find ourselves right away down in no-man’s land, don’t you go and say it’s my fault.”
I was in no mood to reply, and clambering up the hot rocks, with little glancing lizards and beetles rushing away at every step, we soon stood gazing in at the gloomy chamber, our eyes, unaccustomed to the gloom, penetrating but a few yards at a time, so that had there been a host of enemies within, they would have been unseen.
“Now, Tom!” I said excitedly, as together we climbed down into the shade, to feel the cool and pleasant change from broiling heat to what was, comparatively, a very low temperature. “Now, Tom, we are going to explore one of the wonders of the world!”
“Humph!” ejaculated Tom, who did not look at all pleased; “it’s very big, and large, and cool. But say, Mas’r Harry,” he exclaimed, brightening up, “it wouldn’t make half a bad place for keeping tallers! Yah! what’s that?”
“Only a bird,” I said, as with a rush a couple of large birds had flown close by us, evidently alarmed at our visit to their home. “That’s a good sign, Tom, and shows that you need not fancy there’s an enemy behind every block of stone. If anyone was within those birds would not be there.”
Tom grunted, and then, as if to show his unbelief, cocked both barrels of his gun, as, with eyes each moment growing more familiar with the gloom, we walked slowly forward into the darkness ahead—slowly, for the floor was rugged in places with fragments from the roof, and stalagmite. The roof was about fifty feet above our heads, and the span of the low corrugated arch, I should say, a hundred more than that. The stream was rippling noisily along, threading its way amongst the massive blocks of stone, murmuring musically over pebbles and sand. Now our way was wet and slimy, and then again rugged and dry, till, having penetrated some little distance with every precaution, we turned round to look back at the entrance, to see as pretty a picture as ever I gazed upon in my life. We could now see plainly the nature of the roof, hung with beautiful stalactites of many graceful forms, giving to the great arch the appearance of some grand specimen of Gothic tracery, through which we looked upon the ravine lit up by the outer sunshine, with its green, and gold, and blushing floral hues. It was a scene to be remembered for ever; but the gold in my thoughts seemed more glorious, and I turned from it without a sigh.
Another dozen yards and a curve in the cave hid the entrance from sight; we were in gloomy shades, where a light was necessary; and before going farther I paused to think.
If the treasure had been hidden there, where would it be?
Reason said directly, in the most distant and inaccessible recesses of the vast cavern.
And where was that? How far from the light of day?
That was the problem I had set myself to solve, and, in spite of a feeling of awe with which the place inspired me, I prepared for the solution. It was no light task, and I have no shame in owning that I felt a strange reluctance to proceed along a rugged path wherein might at any time be yawning some fearful bottomless chasm, ready to swallow up the adventurer; but I would not show my dread, and if Tom felt any he was too obstinate to show his.
By means of string we tied each a candle to our pistol barrels, and then set forward, walking slowly, now with the floor of the cavern ascending, now with it slopingdown with a steep and rugged gradient, but always with the little river gurgling in darkness by our side, sometimes almost on a level with our feet, at others, where the path rose, running in a deep chasm whose black darkness made one shudder.
We must have penetrated, I should say, the greater part of a mile when the narrow rocky shelf upon which we were walking came to a sudden end, and holding down our candles, we tried to penetrate the depth before us, but in vain; we could only see a vast black abyss, over which we were standing upon a tongue of rock, while to right, to left, it was precisely the same—an awful falling away of all that was palpable—and we knew that a slip would have sent us to a horrible death.
“This is a fearsome, unked place, Mas’r Harry,” whispered Tom; but his words went floating around as if taken up by a chorus of mocking voices, and a strange shudder crept through me.
It was indeed awful, that vast obscurity, with death threatening us if we took another step; and I could not help thinking how easy it was for a people of a low order of intellect, blindly superstitious, to make this solemn hall the home of their poor idol. It was a place that took no little courage to explore, and often I felt my heart fail me ere I recalled the errand upon which I had come.
Was it likely that, sooner than it should fall into the hands of the Spaniards, gold almost invaluable had been cast into this awful gulf? It was probable; but, as far as I could see, recovery would have been impossible, unless, after all, it was not so profound as the darkness made it appear. But then, how to descend? To swing by a rope over the fearful chasm would have unnerved the stoutest of heart, and I felt that I hardly could have dared such an adventure.
This, then, must be the extent of the cavern—or rather of our power to explore it in this direction—for, as I have before said, we stood right out upon a projecting piece of rock from which descent was absolutely impossible, and there was nothing for it but to turn back.
“Think it’s deep, Mas’r Harry?” whispered Tom loudly.
“Deep—deep—deep—deep—deep—deep!” came whispering back from all sides, making Tom shiver; but he recovered himself directly, and taking a piece of greasy newspaper from his pocket he loosely crumpled it together, knelt down close to the brink of the abyss, lit the paper, and then threw it from him to blaze out brightly, and fall down—down rapidly—as it burned lower, and lower, and lower, till at a vast depth it burned out, but without illuminating anything. We saw no reflection from rocky point or gleaming water, and our feeling of awe was increased.
“I’ll have another try, anyhow,” said Tom. “Ears will sometimes tell us what eyes won’t. Just lend a hand here, Mas’r Harry.”
For a moment or two I shrank from assisting him, on seeing his object, but directly after applied one hand to a rough block of stone that lay at our side, weighing, I should think, a hundred pounds.
We had about a couple of yards to move it, and then it rested upon the very brink, a shrinking sensation coming over me as I saw Tom stand, candle in hand, with one foot resting upon the rock ready to thrust it over.
“Now, then, Mas’r Harry,” he said, “this’ll find the bottom if anything will. We shall soon know now. Say when!”
I did not speak, for I was wondering whether that rough block was going down where that I coveted had been cast, and for a moment I was about to restrain Tom; but I thought that the fall of that stone would teach me whether the bottom was at an attainable depth or no, and I signed to Tom to thrust the fragment off.
“Over, Mas’r Harry?”
“Over!” I said in a whisper; and the next moment there was a grating noise and the stone had been thrust off to fall—fall—fall in silence, while with awe-stricken countenances we leaned over the gulf and listened, second after second, without avail, for no sound came up.
“It’s gone bang through to the other side of the world, Mas’r Harry!” whispered Tom. “There ain’t no end to this place, for if it had been ever so deep you must have heard it touch bottom some time. Ain’t it awful!”
It was awful, and a hand seemed clutching my heart as I thought of falling, ever falling like that, or of some enemy dashing me over into the fearful gulf. There seemed to be indeed no bottom within ordinary range, and the idea of descending by rope in search there of treasure was absurd.
How long the stone had been falling I cannot say; but just as we had given up all thought of hearing of it more there came from the depths below a faint whisper of a splash, or of some pebble falling in water, but only for that whisper to be echoed and re-echoed from distant parts till it increased to a fearful roar that was some seconds in dying away.
It was impossible to help a shudder upon hearing those horrible reverberations, each one telling of the awful profundity of the place—one which, without extensive mining apparatus, I felt that any fathoming for search was out of the question.
Chapter Twenty One.The Black Arch.Dreadful place indeed!“They cannot have thrown any treasure down there,” I mentally exclaimed the next moment. “It must be somewhere recoverable.”“Say, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom then, “hadn’t we better get back?”“Are you afraid, Tom?” I said.“Well, no, Mas’r Harry, I ain’t afraid; but I am nearer to being so than ever I was in my life. ’Taint fear, only one of my knees will keep going shikery-shakery, and my teeth have took it into their heads to make believe it’s cold, and they’re tapping together like the lid of a kettle in boiling time. But I ain’t a bit afraid.”“It’s an awful-looking place, Tom,” I said, “and enough to make any one shudder.”“’Tis that, Mas’r Harry—’tis that indeed!” said Tom earnestly. “And if I believed in ghosts and goblins I should say as this was the shop where they was made. But—but, Mas’r Harry, what’s that?”I turned round hastily to look in the direction in which we had come, to see plainly a shadowy-looking form flitting, as it were, out of sight in the dim obscurity, and a feeling of tremor came over me as I thought of our peril should we be attacked now, standing, as we were, with certain death behind and on either side; and determined that, if we were to encounter an enemy, it should be upon less dangerous ground, I called to Tom to follow me; and holding my dim light well in front, began to retrace my steps in the direction of the entrance, when there was a loud echoing cry from behind. I felt a violent blow in the back which dashed me to the ground, and in an instant our candles were extinguished and we were in darkness.For a few moments I felt paralysed, expecting each instant that I should have to grapple with an enemy; but, save for the whisperings and the distant roar of water, all was silent till Tom spoke.“Have you got the flint and steel, Mas’r Harry?”“Yes,” I whispered. “But what was the meaning of that blow and that cry?”“It was me. I stumbled, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom, “for there was a black thing like a devil’s imp flew up out of the big hole and hit me in the face. But pray get a light, Mas’r Harry!”That Tom’s imp was some huge bat I did not for a moment doubt; but after seeing a shadowy figure in front I knew that it was possible that danger awaited us, so, hastily dragging flint and steel from my pocket, I was soon clinking away till a shower of sparks fell upon the tinder; the usual amount of blowing followed, and at last a match was fluttering its blue, cadaverous light, to blaze out soon and enable us to ignite our candles, now burned down very low, when, hastily pursuing our way, we came again without adventure into the great entrance, the daylight being welcome indeed, when we sat down, about fifty yards from the mouth, to partake of some refreshments.It is surprising what a tonic those provisions and a moderate taste ofaguardienteformed. The daylight, too, lent its aid to restore the equilibrium of our nerves, and things wore an entirely different aspect.“That must have been my shadow, Tom,” I said at last, just as he was indulging in a pipe. “Your light threw it on to the dark curtain of gloom before us. And as for your imp, that was a huge bat.”“Well, do you know, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom, “I do begin to think that I hollered afore I was hurt. But you know it really is an unked place in there, and wants a deal of getting used to, and I ain’t a bit used to it yet. But don’t you make no mistake, Mas’r Harry; if you want to go in again I’ll go with you, and I can’t say fairer than that.”“Well, Tom,” I said thoughtfully, “I do want to go in again, for I’m not at all satisfied with my journey. I don’t understand what became of this little river, for of course it must have turned off somewhere this side of the great hole.”“To be sure it did, Mas’r Harry; I saw where it went off under a bit of a tunnel just before we got to that horrible great place.”“Then the cavern must branch off there, Tom,” I said. “That must be the part for us to explore.”“Very good, Mas’r Harry, when you like; but in case of an accident, and I don’t come out any more, I think I’ll tell the truth before I go in: I said I wasn’t, Mas’r Harry, but I was awful scared and cold and creepy, but I think I shall be better this time; so when you’re ready I am.”I expressed my readiness, and in spite of fatigue we stepped onward again till the darkness compelled us to stop and light candles, when, knowing now that there were no very great perils in the path, we made far more progress, and in a very short time arrived at the spot where Tom had seen that the bed of the stream took a fresh direction.It was just as he had intimated: it suddenly turned off to the left, but beneath the shelving rock where we stood holding down our candles as far as we could reach; and if we wished to explore farther there was nothing for it but to scramble down some forty feet to where the water ran murmuring amongst the blocks of stone, here all glazed over with the stalagmitic concretion that had dripped from the roof.I led the way, and with very little difficulty stood at last by the stream, when Tom followed, and we slowly proceeded along its rocky bed till at the end of a few yards we came to the turn where it came gushing out of a dark arch, some six feet high and double that width, the water looking black and deep as it filled the arch from side to side, running swiftly—a river of ink in appearance.“Tom,” I said dreamily, “we must explore this dark tunnel.”“Very well, Mas’r Harry,” he said in resigned tones.And when a few minutes after I turned to look at him, he was leaning against a rock and removing his shoes and stockings.“What are you doing?” I said.“Gettin’ ready, Mas’r Harry; so as to have something dry to put on when we come back.”“But I’m not going to try without boat or raft, Tom,” I said. “We must give it up for to-day.”Tom said no word but hurriedly replaced his extreme garments, and together we slowly made our way back to reach the light in time to see that the sun was very low down in the horizon, when completely wearied out we sat down to finish our provision, a very easy task, for I had only intended my store for one. But I must give Tom the credit of saying that he would not eat without much pressing, declaring that his pipe would satisfy him.An hour after we were making our way back to the hacienda with, fortunately for us, a bright moon overhead, but it was nearly midnight before we reached the court-yard.
Dreadful place indeed!
“They cannot have thrown any treasure down there,” I mentally exclaimed the next moment. “It must be somewhere recoverable.”
“Say, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom then, “hadn’t we better get back?”
“Are you afraid, Tom?” I said.
“Well, no, Mas’r Harry, I ain’t afraid; but I am nearer to being so than ever I was in my life. ’Taint fear, only one of my knees will keep going shikery-shakery, and my teeth have took it into their heads to make believe it’s cold, and they’re tapping together like the lid of a kettle in boiling time. But I ain’t a bit afraid.”
“It’s an awful-looking place, Tom,” I said, “and enough to make any one shudder.”
“’Tis that, Mas’r Harry—’tis that indeed!” said Tom earnestly. “And if I believed in ghosts and goblins I should say as this was the shop where they was made. But—but, Mas’r Harry, what’s that?”
I turned round hastily to look in the direction in which we had come, to see plainly a shadowy-looking form flitting, as it were, out of sight in the dim obscurity, and a feeling of tremor came over me as I thought of our peril should we be attacked now, standing, as we were, with certain death behind and on either side; and determined that, if we were to encounter an enemy, it should be upon less dangerous ground, I called to Tom to follow me; and holding my dim light well in front, began to retrace my steps in the direction of the entrance, when there was a loud echoing cry from behind. I felt a violent blow in the back which dashed me to the ground, and in an instant our candles were extinguished and we were in darkness.
For a few moments I felt paralysed, expecting each instant that I should have to grapple with an enemy; but, save for the whisperings and the distant roar of water, all was silent till Tom spoke.
“Have you got the flint and steel, Mas’r Harry?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “But what was the meaning of that blow and that cry?”
“It was me. I stumbled, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom, “for there was a black thing like a devil’s imp flew up out of the big hole and hit me in the face. But pray get a light, Mas’r Harry!”
That Tom’s imp was some huge bat I did not for a moment doubt; but after seeing a shadowy figure in front I knew that it was possible that danger awaited us, so, hastily dragging flint and steel from my pocket, I was soon clinking away till a shower of sparks fell upon the tinder; the usual amount of blowing followed, and at last a match was fluttering its blue, cadaverous light, to blaze out soon and enable us to ignite our candles, now burned down very low, when, hastily pursuing our way, we came again without adventure into the great entrance, the daylight being welcome indeed, when we sat down, about fifty yards from the mouth, to partake of some refreshments.
It is surprising what a tonic those provisions and a moderate taste ofaguardienteformed. The daylight, too, lent its aid to restore the equilibrium of our nerves, and things wore an entirely different aspect.
“That must have been my shadow, Tom,” I said at last, just as he was indulging in a pipe. “Your light threw it on to the dark curtain of gloom before us. And as for your imp, that was a huge bat.”
“Well, do you know, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom, “I do begin to think that I hollered afore I was hurt. But you know it really is an unked place in there, and wants a deal of getting used to, and I ain’t a bit used to it yet. But don’t you make no mistake, Mas’r Harry; if you want to go in again I’ll go with you, and I can’t say fairer than that.”
“Well, Tom,” I said thoughtfully, “I do want to go in again, for I’m not at all satisfied with my journey. I don’t understand what became of this little river, for of course it must have turned off somewhere this side of the great hole.”
“To be sure it did, Mas’r Harry; I saw where it went off under a bit of a tunnel just before we got to that horrible great place.”
“Then the cavern must branch off there, Tom,” I said. “That must be the part for us to explore.”
“Very good, Mas’r Harry, when you like; but in case of an accident, and I don’t come out any more, I think I’ll tell the truth before I go in: I said I wasn’t, Mas’r Harry, but I was awful scared and cold and creepy, but I think I shall be better this time; so when you’re ready I am.”
I expressed my readiness, and in spite of fatigue we stepped onward again till the darkness compelled us to stop and light candles, when, knowing now that there were no very great perils in the path, we made far more progress, and in a very short time arrived at the spot where Tom had seen that the bed of the stream took a fresh direction.
It was just as he had intimated: it suddenly turned off to the left, but beneath the shelving rock where we stood holding down our candles as far as we could reach; and if we wished to explore farther there was nothing for it but to scramble down some forty feet to where the water ran murmuring amongst the blocks of stone, here all glazed over with the stalagmitic concretion that had dripped from the roof.
I led the way, and with very little difficulty stood at last by the stream, when Tom followed, and we slowly proceeded along its rocky bed till at the end of a few yards we came to the turn where it came gushing out of a dark arch, some six feet high and double that width, the water looking black and deep as it filled the arch from side to side, running swiftly—a river of ink in appearance.
“Tom,” I said dreamily, “we must explore this dark tunnel.”
“Very well, Mas’r Harry,” he said in resigned tones.
And when a few minutes after I turned to look at him, he was leaning against a rock and removing his shoes and stockings.
“What are you doing?” I said.
“Gettin’ ready, Mas’r Harry; so as to have something dry to put on when we come back.”
“But I’m not going to try without boat or raft, Tom,” I said. “We must give it up for to-day.”
Tom said no word but hurriedly replaced his extreme garments, and together we slowly made our way back to reach the light in time to see that the sun was very low down in the horizon, when completely wearied out we sat down to finish our provision, a very easy task, for I had only intended my store for one. But I must give Tom the credit of saying that he would not eat without much pressing, declaring that his pipe would satisfy him.
An hour after we were making our way back to the hacienda with, fortunately for us, a bright moon overhead, but it was nearly midnight before we reached the court-yard.
Chapter Twenty Two.The Return to Shadow-Land.Tom was inexhaustible in his schemes, and at the end of three days he had contrived the very thing we required, in a light little raft composed of a few bamboo wands confining together a couple of inflated calf or small heifer skins, which floated lightly on the river like a pair of huge bladders.“There, Mas’r Harry, what do you say to them, eh? Let all the wind out and double ’em up, cut fresh sticks over there by the cave, blow the bags out again, and there you are fitted up in style.”“Tom,” I said joyfully, “you’re a treasure!”“Course I am, Mas’r Harry! And yet you wanted to leave me behind.”We were off the next morning before daybreak well armed, each carrying a pistol besides our gun, and travelled as rapidly as we could, being pretty well laden; our load being increased this time by better illuminating powers in the shape of rope thickly coated with pitch.“You’ll take the prog-bag, Mas’r Harry, as soon as we get there; and I’ve brought this bit of rope so as to sling the skin bags over my shoulders,” said Tom.“All right!” I said, and I nodded assent.Having the advantage of a little more acquaintance with the road we arrived at the ravine in good time without seeing a soul, walked straight to the blocks in front of the great cave, climbed them, hastened in for some distance, and then sat down in the cool twilight to rest and refresh ourselves, the place being apparently just as we had left it some days before.It was very laborious work that tramping through a trackless country, but an hour’s rest and a hearty meal sufficed to make us once more eagerly set about our task; Tom now apparently as much excited as myself though without my deep interest. Tom’s idea was that we might discover something wonderful, more singular perhaps than the vast chasm; but his fancies were exceedingly vague, while for my part I studiously preserved silence respecting my own intentions.As soon as we reached the region of gloom we lit a candle and one torch, but so far, with the increased power of thoroughly illuminating the place, it only served to reveal the vastness of the awe-inspiring cave we were traversing.Our progress was necessarily slow, but at last we stood over the arch from whence issued the stream, when, moved by a strange feeling of attraction, I left Tom busily preparing the raft while I walked forward with the torch to stand at last upon the rocky cape projecting over the awful gulf, and there stood holding the light above my head trying to penetrate the gloom.But my endeavours were vain; above, beneath, around, the torch shed a halo of faint light, beyond that all was intense blackness, from out of which came the whisperings, murmurings, and roarings, evidently of water, but which the imagination might easily have transposed into the mutterings of a vast and distant multitude.With an involuntary shudder I turned away, thinking of the consequences of a sudden vertigo.Tom was busy with knife and rope, and kneeling down I helped him, puffing into the skins till almost breathless; but at last our task was done, and together we carried the little raft down to the water-side, though not without several slips, launched it, and then placed upon it our lights stuck in lumps of clay brought for the purpose.The raft was about six feet long by four feet wide; the skins supporting light sticks of bamboo well secured to them, and these in their turn bearing cross pieces laid in their places, so that the light vessel’s deck, if I may call it so, was a sort of bamboo grating, upon which we could sit, though standing would have been a puzzling gymnastic exercise.We were ready then at last; but now the same feeling seemed to pervade both as we stood there on the rock gazing before us at the black arch, through which, flowing easily, came the inky water. From where, from what strange regions?
Tom was inexhaustible in his schemes, and at the end of three days he had contrived the very thing we required, in a light little raft composed of a few bamboo wands confining together a couple of inflated calf or small heifer skins, which floated lightly on the river like a pair of huge bladders.
“There, Mas’r Harry, what do you say to them, eh? Let all the wind out and double ’em up, cut fresh sticks over there by the cave, blow the bags out again, and there you are fitted up in style.”
“Tom,” I said joyfully, “you’re a treasure!”
“Course I am, Mas’r Harry! And yet you wanted to leave me behind.”
We were off the next morning before daybreak well armed, each carrying a pistol besides our gun, and travelled as rapidly as we could, being pretty well laden; our load being increased this time by better illuminating powers in the shape of rope thickly coated with pitch.
“You’ll take the prog-bag, Mas’r Harry, as soon as we get there; and I’ve brought this bit of rope so as to sling the skin bags over my shoulders,” said Tom.
“All right!” I said, and I nodded assent.
Having the advantage of a little more acquaintance with the road we arrived at the ravine in good time without seeing a soul, walked straight to the blocks in front of the great cave, climbed them, hastened in for some distance, and then sat down in the cool twilight to rest and refresh ourselves, the place being apparently just as we had left it some days before.
It was very laborious work that tramping through a trackless country, but an hour’s rest and a hearty meal sufficed to make us once more eagerly set about our task; Tom now apparently as much excited as myself though without my deep interest. Tom’s idea was that we might discover something wonderful, more singular perhaps than the vast chasm; but his fancies were exceedingly vague, while for my part I studiously preserved silence respecting my own intentions.
As soon as we reached the region of gloom we lit a candle and one torch, but so far, with the increased power of thoroughly illuminating the place, it only served to reveal the vastness of the awe-inspiring cave we were traversing.
Our progress was necessarily slow, but at last we stood over the arch from whence issued the stream, when, moved by a strange feeling of attraction, I left Tom busily preparing the raft while I walked forward with the torch to stand at last upon the rocky cape projecting over the awful gulf, and there stood holding the light above my head trying to penetrate the gloom.
But my endeavours were vain; above, beneath, around, the torch shed a halo of faint light, beyond that all was intense blackness, from out of which came the whisperings, murmurings, and roarings, evidently of water, but which the imagination might easily have transposed into the mutterings of a vast and distant multitude.
With an involuntary shudder I turned away, thinking of the consequences of a sudden vertigo.
Tom was busy with knife and rope, and kneeling down I helped him, puffing into the skins till almost breathless; but at last our task was done, and together we carried the little raft down to the water-side, though not without several slips, launched it, and then placed upon it our lights stuck in lumps of clay brought for the purpose.
The raft was about six feet long by four feet wide; the skins supporting light sticks of bamboo well secured to them, and these in their turn bearing cross pieces laid in their places, so that the light vessel’s deck, if I may call it so, was a sort of bamboo grating, upon which we could sit, though standing would have been a puzzling gymnastic exercise.
We were ready then at last; but now the same feeling seemed to pervade both as we stood there on the rock gazing before us at the black arch, through which, flowing easily, came the inky water. From where, from what strange regions?
Chapter Twenty Three.The Waterfall.I don’t think many could have stood peering into that gloomy tunnel without feeling something like a tremor of dread. However, I mastered it at last, after asking myself the question, Was it wise to run such a risk? The answer came in the shape of gold—it might be the passage to traverse to arrive at inexhaustible treasure, and I turned to Tom.“Are you ready?” I said.“Yes, Mas’r Harry, I’m ready when I’ve lit my pipe,” he said.And coolly filling it and igniting it from the torch, he crept boldly on to the little raft and took a bamboo, one of two cut on our way here, to pole us along.After placing our guns in safety upon a ledge of rock, I crept on too, and the little raft swayed down heavily; but it was wonderfully buoyant, and with our lights in front we prepared for our subterranean passage.“All right, Mas’r Harry?”“Yes,” I replied.And then we pushed off, poling ourselves along under the arch, the rugged wall being easily reached on either side, the stream widening and not being very rapid after we had passed the first dozen yards.The navigation proved so easy that we were able to glance about at the sides and roof, which often nearly touched us, compelling us to stoop, while at other times the tunnel opened out and we seemed to be making our way through a narrow lake. But it soon contracted again, and I should think our onward progress must have been through the damp, dark, winding way for quite a couple of miles; when, after seeing nothing but shining, glistening rock above us for hours, we seemed to have come to the end of our uneventful journey in a large irregularly shaped chamber whose roof of veined rock was about forty feet above us, its length being about two hundred feet, and its greatest breadth about sixty.The stream had widened out into a little lake again, leaving, however, on one side a sandy shore some six or eight feet wide. The waters were troubled, as if in a state of ebullition, and for a while we sat wondering and listening to a loud moaning roar coming apparently from a distance. Then pushing on by the side, in a manner of speaking we coasted round the place till we reached the sandy shore and rested; for though the water flowed out through the arch by which we had entered there was no way of further exit from the great vault.This, then, was the extent of the cavern river, and it was with disappointment that I went slowly round once more, poling the raft over the troubled waters, to find that there was no likelihood of a discovery here. The sandy shore was the only landing-place, and unless the treasure was buried there I could see no other spot where a search could be made. As to the lake’s profundity, of that we could tell nothing, only that at every attempt to touch bottom we withdrew our poles with a shiver.Here, then, was the source of the river, which rose from springs somewhere far below—springs which caused the bubbling we saw, making our little raft to rock terribly in one part we passed over, so that we gladly sought the sandy shore and there remained listening to the lapping of the water and the faint distant roar.“There must be another cavern beyond this, Tom,” I said after a thoughtful pause.“Ain’t a doubt about it, Mas’r Harry,” he replied. “It’s my belief that if any one would do it he might go on for ever and ever, right through the inside of the earth to find it all full of places like this.”“Look!” I said eagerly, as I stood on the sandy slip of land and held up the light above my head, pointing the while to the end of the vault; “there’s a rift up there, Tom, if we could climb to it, and that’s where that roaring noise comes through.”“Mean to try it, Mas’r Harry?”“Yes,” I said, “if we can climb to it; otherwise we must come again with something we can fit together like a ladder.”“Oh! I can get up there, Mas’r Harry, I know,” said Tom. “I’ve been up worse places than that in Cornwall after gulls’ eggs.”Tom sprang ashore, and I gave a cry of horror, for the little raft was moving off; but with a leap Tom was back upon it and drew it ashore by a piece of line, which he tied to one of the poles after forcing it well down into the sand.“That won’t get away now, Mas’r Harry,” he said.And then stepping cautiously along over the sand, which gave way and seemed to shiver beneath our feet, we reached the end of the vault, and with very little difficulty climbed from cranny to cranny till we gained the opening—a mere slit between two masses of rock—through which we had to squeeze ourselves, and then wind up and up between block after block, that looked as though they had been riven asunder in some convulsion of nature.Two or three times we were for going back, so arduous was the ascent; but determined to see our adventure to the end we pressed on and on, ever higher, till the noise became almost deafening, a cold dank wind too made our lights to flutter, and once they threatened to become extinct. But five minutes after the passage widened and the draught was not so fierce, while bright veins running through the rock at my side whispered of some rich metal or other for him who would venture thus far in its search.“We’re a-coming to it now, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom shouting, for the noise was deafening.The very next moment we were standing in a vast vault stretching out as far as our feeble light would show us, while about fifty feet to our left, in one black, gloomy, unbroken torrent, fell from some great height above, a cascade of water, black as night, till it reached the basin below us, which, even with our trembling lights, shone forth in a silvery, iridescent foam.We could hardly hear the words we uttered from time to time, but we felt but little inclination to speak, so awe-inspiring was the scene before us; and it was not until we had been gazing for some time that we ventured to climb down lower and lower, to find that the bottom of the cavern was a basin of restless water, from which it was evident some portion escaped through a natural conduit to the vault below, while probably the rest made its way to the vast gulf we had before seen.Then up and down—now near the great foaming basin, then with arduous climbing close to the dome that formed the roof—I searched about, well aided by Tom, who seemed to think that I was looking for something precious, though he said nothing. At one time we approached so near the waterfall that we could distinguish, high up, the narrow archway through which it gushed. It seemed, too, that by a little management any one daring enough might have passed round the rocky amphitheatre in which we were, right beneath the waterfall to the other side, where rifts and faintly-discerned chasms whispered of further wondrous passages unexplored, and I felt sure—for the more I searched the more the feeling came home to me—that we were the first human beings who had ever entered this stronghold of nature.With the exception of the bright veins I have mentioned there was no trace of gem or precious metal. The sides and roof sparkled and glistened again and again, but it was only with some stalactitic formation—beautiful to the eye, but worthless; and at last I felt that this was labour in vain—the treasure was no more here than in the vast chasm where we had hurled the stone; and, shouting to Tom my intentions, we stood and had another look, and then lit upon a mass of rock a large piece of oily oakum which we had brought for the purpose.Our oakum burned brightly, but it was of little avail, giving us not much more than a glimpse of the wonders of the grand chamber in which we stood; and then we turned to go, but only to encounter an unexpected difficulty. The chamber was so vast and the rift by which we had entered the sloping side so high up amidst crags resembling one another that we had great difficulty in finding it, and I remember shuddering as I thought of the consequences of being lost there in the dark.
I don’t think many could have stood peering into that gloomy tunnel without feeling something like a tremor of dread. However, I mastered it at last, after asking myself the question, Was it wise to run such a risk? The answer came in the shape of gold—it might be the passage to traverse to arrive at inexhaustible treasure, and I turned to Tom.
“Are you ready?” I said.
“Yes, Mas’r Harry, I’m ready when I’ve lit my pipe,” he said.
And coolly filling it and igniting it from the torch, he crept boldly on to the little raft and took a bamboo, one of two cut on our way here, to pole us along.
After placing our guns in safety upon a ledge of rock, I crept on too, and the little raft swayed down heavily; but it was wonderfully buoyant, and with our lights in front we prepared for our subterranean passage.
“All right, Mas’r Harry?”
“Yes,” I replied.
And then we pushed off, poling ourselves along under the arch, the rugged wall being easily reached on either side, the stream widening and not being very rapid after we had passed the first dozen yards.
The navigation proved so easy that we were able to glance about at the sides and roof, which often nearly touched us, compelling us to stoop, while at other times the tunnel opened out and we seemed to be making our way through a narrow lake. But it soon contracted again, and I should think our onward progress must have been through the damp, dark, winding way for quite a couple of miles; when, after seeing nothing but shining, glistening rock above us for hours, we seemed to have come to the end of our uneventful journey in a large irregularly shaped chamber whose roof of veined rock was about forty feet above us, its length being about two hundred feet, and its greatest breadth about sixty.
The stream had widened out into a little lake again, leaving, however, on one side a sandy shore some six or eight feet wide. The waters were troubled, as if in a state of ebullition, and for a while we sat wondering and listening to a loud moaning roar coming apparently from a distance. Then pushing on by the side, in a manner of speaking we coasted round the place till we reached the sandy shore and rested; for though the water flowed out through the arch by which we had entered there was no way of further exit from the great vault.
This, then, was the extent of the cavern river, and it was with disappointment that I went slowly round once more, poling the raft over the troubled waters, to find that there was no likelihood of a discovery here. The sandy shore was the only landing-place, and unless the treasure was buried there I could see no other spot where a search could be made. As to the lake’s profundity, of that we could tell nothing, only that at every attempt to touch bottom we withdrew our poles with a shiver.
Here, then, was the source of the river, which rose from springs somewhere far below—springs which caused the bubbling we saw, making our little raft to rock terribly in one part we passed over, so that we gladly sought the sandy shore and there remained listening to the lapping of the water and the faint distant roar.
“There must be another cavern beyond this, Tom,” I said after a thoughtful pause.
“Ain’t a doubt about it, Mas’r Harry,” he replied. “It’s my belief that if any one would do it he might go on for ever and ever, right through the inside of the earth to find it all full of places like this.”
“Look!” I said eagerly, as I stood on the sandy slip of land and held up the light above my head, pointing the while to the end of the vault; “there’s a rift up there, Tom, if we could climb to it, and that’s where that roaring noise comes through.”
“Mean to try it, Mas’r Harry?”
“Yes,” I said, “if we can climb to it; otherwise we must come again with something we can fit together like a ladder.”
“Oh! I can get up there, Mas’r Harry, I know,” said Tom. “I’ve been up worse places than that in Cornwall after gulls’ eggs.”
Tom sprang ashore, and I gave a cry of horror, for the little raft was moving off; but with a leap Tom was back upon it and drew it ashore by a piece of line, which he tied to one of the poles after forcing it well down into the sand.
“That won’t get away now, Mas’r Harry,” he said.
And then stepping cautiously along over the sand, which gave way and seemed to shiver beneath our feet, we reached the end of the vault, and with very little difficulty climbed from cranny to cranny till we gained the opening—a mere slit between two masses of rock—through which we had to squeeze ourselves, and then wind up and up between block after block, that looked as though they had been riven asunder in some convulsion of nature.
Two or three times we were for going back, so arduous was the ascent; but determined to see our adventure to the end we pressed on and on, ever higher, till the noise became almost deafening, a cold dank wind too made our lights to flutter, and once they threatened to become extinct. But five minutes after the passage widened and the draught was not so fierce, while bright veins running through the rock at my side whispered of some rich metal or other for him who would venture thus far in its search.
“We’re a-coming to it now, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom shouting, for the noise was deafening.
The very next moment we were standing in a vast vault stretching out as far as our feeble light would show us, while about fifty feet to our left, in one black, gloomy, unbroken torrent, fell from some great height above, a cascade of water, black as night, till it reached the basin below us, which, even with our trembling lights, shone forth in a silvery, iridescent foam.
We could hardly hear the words we uttered from time to time, but we felt but little inclination to speak, so awe-inspiring was the scene before us; and it was not until we had been gazing for some time that we ventured to climb down lower and lower, to find that the bottom of the cavern was a basin of restless water, from which it was evident some portion escaped through a natural conduit to the vault below, while probably the rest made its way to the vast gulf we had before seen.
Then up and down—now near the great foaming basin, then with arduous climbing close to the dome that formed the roof—I searched about, well aided by Tom, who seemed to think that I was looking for something precious, though he said nothing. At one time we approached so near the waterfall that we could distinguish, high up, the narrow archway through which it gushed. It seemed, too, that by a little management any one daring enough might have passed round the rocky amphitheatre in which we were, right beneath the waterfall to the other side, where rifts and faintly-discerned chasms whispered of further wondrous passages unexplored, and I felt sure—for the more I searched the more the feeling came home to me—that we were the first human beings who had ever entered this stronghold of nature.
With the exception of the bright veins I have mentioned there was no trace of gem or precious metal. The sides and roof sparkled and glistened again and again, but it was only with some stalactitic formation—beautiful to the eye, but worthless; and at last I felt that this was labour in vain—the treasure was no more here than in the vast chasm where we had hurled the stone; and, shouting to Tom my intentions, we stood and had another look, and then lit upon a mass of rock a large piece of oily oakum which we had brought for the purpose.
Our oakum burned brightly, but it was of little avail, giving us not much more than a glimpse of the wonders of the grand chamber in which we stood; and then we turned to go, but only to encounter an unexpected difficulty. The chamber was so vast and the rift by which we had entered the sloping side so high up amidst crags resembling one another that we had great difficulty in finding it, and I remember shuddering as I thought of the consequences of being lost there in the dark.