CHAPTER XXIV.SIR ARTHUR WAKES AT THE RIGHT TIME.
At this point Forbes positively insisted on getting up, and, in spite of the slight dampness that still lingered about his clothes, he pulled them on and announced himself ready to start. All were glad to leave the spot which was connected with such a horrible event, and soon the island was far in the rear.
The second stage of the journey was monotonous and uneventful. A few slight rapids were encountered, but for the most part the river was swift and smooth.
The character of the shores now began to change, and instead of the sharp ledges falling sheer to the water, sandy beaches skirted the edge, and from the canoes they could make out gloomy holes and passages that pierced the sides of the cavern.
They were strongly tempted at times to stop and explore these unknown mysteries, but the reflection that every moment thus wasted would prolong their stay on this underground stream always checked the impulse.
A flat, rocky ledge served for their next resting-place. It extended back ten yards to a steep wall of rock, and here, in a hollow cavity, Canaris found a mass of driftwood that was dry enough to burn.
The fish were cooked rudely over a fire, but without salt they were unpalatable and no one cared to eat them.
The luxury of a camp fire was enjoyed while they slept, and, although no watch was kept, the night—if night it really was—passed without alarm.
Colonel Carrington had managed to retain during his captivity a small note-book and pencil. In this he kept a record of the journey, jotting down each night the incidents of the day’s cruise, and a page from this diary will convey to the reader a clear idea of the uneventful manner in which the first week passed away—a week in long-to-be-remembered contrast to the dreadful period that followed.
Third stage.—Traveled all day on smooth water. Rocky shores. Camped on an island. Could find no wood and slept in the dark.
Fourth stage.—Today we passed rocky islands in great profusion. Once far overhead we saw a single gleam of light shining in from a crevice. So far our calculation is correct. Day is day, and night is night.
Fifth stage.—Nothing important. Ran a few rapids and camped on the right shore on a sandy beach.
Sixth stage.—All goes well. We are making many miles a day. The current continues strong. Camped on flat rock in midstream.
Seventh stage.—Current still good. River very wide and obstructed with rocks. Narrowly missed an upset several times.
Eighth stage.—Traveled rapidly. Camped on a big spit of sand on right shore. Vast cavern behind us. Too sleepy to explore it.
Here the peaceful montony of the colonel’s record ended. On this sloping, sandy beach began the first of that string of adventures which to their last moment will send a shudder through those who participated in them.
As the colonel stated, they were so weary from the long day’s journey that no investigation was made of the vast cavern that lay behind them.
Guy advanced a few yards with his blazing torch.
“It probably terminates with a rocky wall,” he said carelessly: “It’s no use looking into it tonight.”
Sir Arthur suggested that it would be well to make sure that no danger lurked in its darkness, but Guy handed him the torch and bade him go satisfy himself. He very promptly declined the honor.
A meager supper was eaten, for already the stock of food showed a perceptible diminution, and by common consent Guy began from that time to serve out short rations.
A quantity of driftwood had been brought in the canoes from a previous camping-place, and with thisa small fire was built. In its cheerful flickering glow they fell asleep, and an hour later a faint gleam from the charred embers was all that relieved the darkness of the cavern.
When Sir Arthur Ashby turned uneasily on his rugs some time afterward, even this feeble light was gone. The ex-governor was consumed with a burning thirst. He had an undeniable craving for champagne and iced claret, but in the unavoidable absence of these drinks water would have to do.
As he sat up, a faint noise reached his ears from the direction of the canoes, and supposing it to be Canaris, who had performed similar favors for him before, he called out loudly:
“My good fellow, fetch me a drink, will you? I’m deucedly dry.”
The noise instantly ceased and was not repeated, though Sir Arthur waited breathlessly for a full minute.
Once he fancied he heard a slight rippling of water, but that, too, ceased at once.
Then Sir Arthur uttered a loud shout, which speedily wakened his companions.
“What’s wrong?” cried the colonel anxiously. “Did some one call? I surely heard a noise.”
“I want a drink, that’s all,” said Sir Arthur. “I heard someone down at the canoes and supposed it was Canaris. Was it you, Carrington?”
“No, certainly not,” exclaimed the colonel, now thoroughly awake. “Here, Chutney, Forbes, pass me a match, quick. I have none about me.”
They were all on their feet instantly, and Guy lost no time in lighting the torch which he kept always by his side.
Holding it over his head he led the way to the shore, and the first brief glance showed only too plainly what was the matter.
“One canoe is missing!” he cried despairingly.
“What, you don’t mean it!” exclaimed Forbes. “How can that be possible?”
“It’s gone,” said Guy blankly. “No doubt of it. Here is the mark of the keel leading down to the water. That’s not the worst of it, though. Half our provisions are gone with it, and one lamp and an oil-flask as well.”
“By Jove, Chutney, it’s that savage who has done this,” cried Melton. “It can be accounted for in no other way. We forgot all about the scoundrel’s presence in the cavern.”
“But how could he have lived all this time without food?”
“I don’t know,” answered Melton. “He must have managed it in some way, though. These Gallas are tough, wiry fellows and can stand a good deal of hardship.”
The circumstances all seemed to confirm Melton’ssupposition. Unfortunately the fact that this Galla warrior was also making the cruise of the river had been overlooked, and now, as a result of this negligence, they had lost a canoe and half of their supplies.
“We have one thing to be thankful for,” said Guy. “If Sir Arthur had not wakened when he did we would undoubtedly have lost all. His shout scared the rascal, and he did not wait to make off with the other canoe.”
“Yes, here is the mark of a third boat,” announced the colonel, who had been making an investigation on his own account, “and footprints are visible on the sand. The scoundrel must have been here when we landed.”
“I wanted you to make a search,” said Sir Arthur, “but my advice was disregarded. You see the result.”
“Prepare to start at once,” interrupted Guy sharply. “We must pursue the thief and recover our canoe.”
In less than five minutes they embarked and pushed away from the shore.
“Put out the torch,” said Guy. “If the rascal sees the light he can get out of our way and we will pass him unperceived.”
“But how will we capture him in the dark?” asked Melton.
“We must depend on our hearing,” was the reply. “We will push ahead quietly and listen at intervals for the stroke of his paddle.”
Under these circumstances the recovery of the canoe was very doubtful, but there was plainly no other course, so they proceeded to carry out Guy’s plan as carefully as possible.
Five paddles were all that remained, one for each of them, and with quick, noiseless strokes they moved rapidly down the river, keeping the canoe headed with the current as far as possible, and pausing at times to listen for any trace of the thief.
Thus they journeyed for an hour or more, but no sound of any kind reached their ears, and it began to look very much as though the Galla had been passed unseen in the darkness.
“He could hardly have kept ahead of us for such a distance,” said Forbes. “I’m afraid we have missed him, Chutney.”
Guy made no reply. The canoe at that instant grated harshly on some obstacle, and throwing out his arms, Melton discovered that the current had carried them against one of the steep, rocky shores. He was about to shove the canoe forcibly away with his paddle when Guy whispered sharply:
“Hold tight to the rock. I hear something above us.
CHAPTER XXV.THE JOURNEY ON THE LAKE.
In the deep silence all heard distinctly the low, steady dip of a paddle.
“Be ready with a match,” whispered Guy. “When the canoe comes opposite, light the torch and I will cover the fellow with my rifle.”
The sound grew louder and plainer, and Melton’s finger was already trembling on the match when a terrific splash echoed over the water, followed instantly by a most awful and heartrending wail of agony, that caused every one to shudder from head to foot.
Perfect silence ensued, and the dip of the paddle was no longer heard. With nervous haste Forbes lit the torch, and the sudden light revealed an empty canoe floating bottom up a few yards out in the stream.
They paddled quickly alongside, and leaning over Guy turned the drifting boat right side up.
It was empty, of course. The contents had gone to the bottom, and near the center the frail sides, seen plainly in the torchlight, were actually crushed inward like a shattered eggshell.
Where was the occupant of a moment before? What tremendous force had wrought this havoc?
The current carried them on and on, but no one spoke; no one dared utter the thoughts that were in his mind.
At last Guy said in faltering tones, “Nothing but a serpent could have inflicted that injury to the canoe.”
“That was the meaning of the splash,” replied Melton. “The huge coils must have been thrown around it. The poor fellow had only time for one cry when he was dragged out.”
“Then the serpent must have been following us down the river,” cried the colonel. “I supposed he was dead after that bullet lodged in his neck.”
“Thatserpent is dead,” said Forbes solemnly, “or I should never have escaped from his coils. This is another serpent. The river must be the abode of many like them.”
This alarming statement was unfortunately only too likely to be true. Sir Arthur was terribly distressed, and prophesied a speedy reappearance of the monster and a fate similar to that of the poor savage in store for them all.
His anxiety was shared by his companions, though not expressed as openly, and all possible haste was made to get away from the horrible spot.
A brief search was carried on in hopes of finding the lost provision bags, but, with the exception of a single floating paddle, nothing was picked up. Thebags must have sunk with the lamp and oil-flask.
Nothing was seen of the other canoe—the one originally taken by the savage—and they came to the conclusion that it had been purposely abandoned farther up the river.
The balance of that day they traveled with a dread sense of impending danger. The terrible scene so recently witnessed had left an ineffaceable impression, and by tacit consent they paddled in silence, afraid of the sound of their own voices.
The river had suddenly become narrow, and ran with dizzy speed between two rocky walls that reflected on both sides the glow of the torch which Sir Arthur carried in the stern.
Half a dozen times they dashed through brawling rapids, but no mishap occurred, and, as their increasing drowsiness warned them that night was close at hand, they succeeded in finding a landing-place on the left shore which offered some protection until morning.
A small quantity of wood still remained, and with this a fire was kept burning all night, while they took turns at guarding the camp, for after the recent events they no longer dared to sleep unprotected and in utter darkness.
The scant amount of food now remaining was a source of great uneasiness, but Chutney infused fresh hope into the party by the confident predictionthat if the present daily rate of speed were maintained the supply would last until the end of the journey.
Already the pure air of the cavern had done wonders for Sir Arthur and the colonel, and they had nearly recovered their usual health and strength. The one canoe held them all very comfortably, and they seemed to make better progress than when they had been divided into separate parties.
That night nothing occurred to cause any alarm, and they resumed the cruise in fairly good spirits. The river still continued narrow and the current swift. No dangerous water was encountered, and everything was going on satisfactorily when Guy suddenly shouted with all his might, “Back water! Quick! quick!” and looking ahead they saw a steep rocky promontory, against which the current split and swung off into two channels, one to the right, the other to the left.
In spite of their utmost efforts they continued to float down inch by inch.
Which was the proper channel? It was a puzzling problem on which perhaps hung life and death. There was no time for consideration, and under the circumstances Guy adopted the only possible course.
“Head the canoe straight for the center of the rock and let her drift,” he cried. “The current shall decide for us.”
This was instantly done and they drifted with perfect accuracy straight for the splitting point in the stream.
For a moment it looked as though they would be flung against the rocks and upset, but as the canoe reached the turning-point it trembled an instant in the balance and then darted headlong into the channel to the right.
“A good omen,” cried the colonel. “The river Juba lies on our right. This must be the proper channel.”
It was a very narrow channel, at all events, and a very swift one, too, for the rocky walls on either side were almost close enough to touch with the paddles, and they were moving at a dizzy rate of speed.
“There are rapids below us,” said Forbes. “I can hear them dimly.”
Melton’s hearing was unusually acute, for as yet the rest could hear nothing, but in a few seconds the distant roar was audible to all, and it grew ominously louder with every second.
They grasped the sides of the canoe in anxious suspense—for it was useless to paddle—and the angry waters were almost in sight, when Sir Arthur dropped his torch, and instantly they were plunged in total darkness.
No time remained to strike a fresh light. The sullen crash of the waters drowned the sound oftheir voices, and the canoe blindly took its own course and they felt the chill spray spattering their faces.
“Bump, bump, bump,” went the quivering boat, grinding and crashing on loose rocks, and then with one terrific lurch, that sent them sprawling on their knees, the violent tossing subsided and the choppy waves smacked the bottom of the canoe.
With some difficulty Guy lit a fresh torch, and its light revealed a strange condition of things.
No shore was visible on either side, and overhead was empty space instead of the low lying roof that always met their gaze.
“We are no longer moving,” cried the colonel in astonishment.
“Impossible!” exclaimed Guy, but on putting his hand in the water all doubt was instantly removed. The canoe was stationary.
They paddled on to the right, to the left, in every direction, but the dark water lay calm and sluggish on all sides.
“We are on a lake,” said Guy. “There is no doubt of it; a vast underground lake.”
“There must be an outlet on the other side, though,” replied Melton. “All we need do is to paddle across and find it.”
“But which is the proper side?” said Canaris. “Are we headed straight now?”
“By Jove, I don’t believe we are,” replied Guy. “I’m afraid we are completely mixed up. We will paddle until we reach the shore, and then follow it till we come to the outlet.”
“Yes, that will do very well,” said the colonel. “The lake cannot be so very large. I wish we had time to complete a survey of it. I should like to make a report to the Royal Geographical Society.”
“I wish the honorable members of the R. G. S. could change places with us,” said Sir Arthur, with a groan. “I have no doubt some of those lunatics would enjoy this beastly hole. There is no accounting for taste, Carrington.”
The colonel made no reply. He was keeping stroke with Chutney’s paddle, sharing with him the outlook ahead. The minutes passed on, but still no signs of any shore.
“It’s a pretty fair-sized lake after all,” said Guy.
“And we are the first white men to navigate its waters,” remarked the colonel solemnly. “This is a wonderful discovery. Our fame as great explorers will be assured if we ever get back to England.”
“Land ahead!” shouted Guy suddenly, and snatching the torch from Sir Arthur, he stood erect as the canoe shot gently toward a dim object that rose from the gloom twenty yards distant. Amid breathless silence the keel nicked the sandy beach and Guy sprang out.
One brief second he held the flaming torch aloft.
Then he turned and tottered with trembling limbs towards the canoe. He tried to speak, but no words came, and his face was pallid and horror-stricken.
CHAPTER XXVI.THE ISLE OF SKELETONS.
Believing that some terrible danger threatened, Forbes was in readiness to push the canoe back into the lake, but Guy stopped him with a wave of the hand.
“I’ll be all right in a moment. My nerves went back on me; that’s all.”
He glanced toward the shore with a shudder, and then filled the palm of his hand with water and drank it.
“Come on,” he said bravely; “don’t be alarmed. It’s nothing that can harm us.”
His companions followed him timidly up the sandy slope. The torch threw a bright light on the scene, and every one of them shuddered as Guy stopped and pointed before him.
On a flat, rocky plateau, three or four feet above the level of the lake, lay a gleaming mass of bones, all dried and whitened by age.
“Human skeletons, by gracious!” burst from the colonel, and it was easy to see that he spoke the truth.
Human skeletons they were, but instead of being joined together, skulls, arms, and legs lay scattered about in awful confusion.
“This is horrible,” said Forbes. “Who were these unfortunates, and what could have caused such mutilation?”
Guy advanced to the center of the plateau, flashing the torch around him, and turning to his companions, he cried: “This is an island; there is water all around it.”
“Look here,” exclaimed Canaris eagerly; “here lies a raft of logs, half buried in the sand.”
This new discovery promised some light on the mystery, and they crowded hastily around the Greek, who was bending over the rude structure.
It lay half way up the beach, and over the lower extremities of the logs a thick layer of sand had been washed. Close by were half a dozen coarse sacks, which proved on inspection to contain skins of leopards and tigers, bright colored feathers, coffee, and aromatic gums. All were in fairly good condition.
“Here is something else,” cried Forbes. “Arms, by Jove! Spears and axes, torches and paddles. Well, by gracious, what does this mean?”
An inkling of the truth flashed upon them simultaneously, and they stared at each other in frightened silence.
“This was the last load of natives to go down the river,” said Canaris quietly. “Here is their raft,their trading goods. Yonder lie their bones. Their journey ended here.”
“And why did it end here?” demanded the colonel.
“Yes, why?” echoed Chutney, and then no one spoke for a full minute.
“What was to prevent them from continuing on their way?” resumed the colonel finally. “They had a raft and paddles; the water was all around them. What caused their death?”
“Starvation,” suggested the Greek.
“It was not starvation that killed them,” exclaimed Guy, who had turned back to the center of the island. “Here is a bag of dates and dried meat all shriveled and moldy. They met their death in some horribly sudden fashion, that is certain. How do you account for their skeletons being torn apart and the bones flung together? Could starvation do that?”
“It was serpents,” said the Greek; and that brief sentence made their blood run cold.
“Yes,” continued Canaris, observing the doubt in their faces; “they must have been surprised in the night and crushed to death. That alone can account for their broken bones. But, remember, all this was thirty years ago or more.”
“Yes, you are right, Canaris,” said Chutney. “Ibelieve, upon my word, what you say is true. The monstrous serpents of the cavern devoured them.”
Sir Arthur beat a rapid retreat to the canoe, and the rest were not slow in following his example.
“Let us get away from this horrible spot as quickly as possible,” said the colonel; “and, besides, we are losing precious time on this lake. We must seek the outlet at once and resume the journey.”
They paddled gladly away from the Isle of Skeletons, as the colonel insisted on naming it, and steered as straight a course as possible.
Under the pressure of four paddles the canoe maintained a rapid speed, but in spite of this it was fully an hour, and probably much more, before they found the shore of the lake. They rested a little while beside the perpendicular wall of rock, uncertain which way to turn.
“It won’t make much difference,” said Guy; “either course must bring us to the outlet. Suppose we try the right.”
This proposition met with favor, and off they started once more, taking care to keep the shore constantly in sight, lest they should lose their bearings again.
In less than half an hour the sound of running water was heard in the distance, and they paddled faster than ever in their intense longing to escape from the lake.
Louder and louder grew the roar of the water, until they seemed to be almost upon it, and just when they were preparing for a dash into the rapids Chutney rose in the canoe with a cry of surprise, and the torchlight showed plainly a fierce body of water running, not out of, but into the lake.
They had come back to the starting point. It was here they had entered the lake, and now all must be done over again.
“Back water,” cried the colonel. “Don’t get into the current. It may sweep us out and we shall lose our bearings. Turn the canoe and we will go back the way we came.”
There was no help for it. It only remained to atone for the lost time by paddling as rapidly as possible.
With difficulty the canoe was snatched from the influx of the current and headed this time to the left.
“It will be a lengthy paddle,” said Guy. “The lake is by no means a small one.”
“I’m hungry,” exclaimed Sir Arthur. “Isn’t it about time for lunch?”
“Your suggestion is eminently proper, Sir Arthur,” declared the colonel. “On a full stomach we shall travel faster, Chauncey. Do you concur with our views?”
Guy evidently did, for a supply of dates andcrackers was forthwith produced, and while they were eating the canoe was permitted to remain stationary.
They started away in somewhat better spirits, Chutney in the bow keeping a sharp watch for danger ahead, while Sir Arthur held his torch from the stern, lighting the water for some yards around.
The dreary monotony of the journey was most trying. The shore presented an unbroken perpendicular wall of stone falling sheer to the water, damp and slimy with drippings, while overhead was empty space, a dome of vast height, to judge from the echo of their voices.
They paddled on and on, pausing occasionally to rest their weary arms, then dashing away with more vigor than ever. Not for an instant did they lose sight of the shore. It was their only guide. At last Sir Arthur’s arm dropped feebly, and it was seen that he was half asleep. Canaris took the torch from his hand, and sinking into the bottom of the canoe, the ex-governor fell instantly into a deep slumber.
“I’m actually getting drowsy myself,” confessed the colonel. “It must be night. Surely we ought to be halfway round the lake by this time.”
Guy admitted that he, too, was beginning to grow sleepy, and as Forbes and Canaris alone professed to be as fresh as ever, it was decided thatthey should navigate the canoe for a time and allow the others an opportunity to rest.
Chutney and the colonel stretched themselves on the rugs and Melton paddled slowly forward, while Canaris held the torch from the stern.
Hours passed, and still they continued to follow the rocky shore amid silence, broken only by the swish of the paddle, for neither Forbes nor Canaris cared to converse.
Wrapped in their own gloomy reflections they crouched in the stern, keeping silent vigil over their sleeping companions.
An intense desire for sleep now laid hold on Melton, and with great reluctance he woke Guy and the colonel. It required a dash of cold water to bring them to their senses.
“Are we still on this horrible lake?” exclaimed Chutney. “How long have we been asleep?”
“Several hours at least,” replied Melton.
“Several hours? Whew! What a lake this is! We must surely be near the outlet now. But you are sleepy and worn out, Melton, and so is Canaris. Look, he can hardly keep his eyes open. Go lie down, both of you. The colonel and I will see to the canoe, and you will wake up twenty miles down the river.”
Melton handed over his paddle to Guy, and the colonel relieved the Greek of the torch.
Canaris was asleep almost instantly, and Melton was just arranging the rugs to make himself a comfortable spot, when Chutney cried gladly, “I can hear water running. I’m sure of it. Do you hear it, too, colonel?”
“Yes,” said the colonel, after a pause. “I do hear something, that’s a fact. We are approaching the outlet of the lake, no doubt of it.”
Melton’s drowsiness vanished, and he sprang up.
“It would be advisable to waken Canaris and Sir Arthur,” suggested the colonel. “No one ought to sleep at a time like this. All hands may be needed.”
A slight touch woke the Greek, but it required a severe shaking to rouse Sir Arthur.
“Waiter, a deviled kidney and a pint of Pommery Sec,” he cried drowsily, as Chutney pulled him to a sitting position. And then opening his eyes he groaned dismally, “Bless me, I thought I was dining at Gatti’s. Why didn’t you let me sleep?”
CHAPTER XXVII.ALL HOPE VANISHES.
“We are approaching the outlet of the lake, Sir Arthur,” said Guy. “It is better that all should be awake in case we encounter bad water.”
“Yes, yes; very true. You want me to hold the torch, I suppose. Gad! what a dream I had! I was dining with Lord Balsover. I’d give my title and fortune to be back in London this minute.”
“Hold your torch straight,” said the colonel dryly, and then under the regular strokes of four paddles the canoe moved swiftly toward the distant sound of running water.
Every instant it grew louder and more distinct, and soon their voices were almost drowned in the roar.
It was a period of terrible anxiety. That it was the outlet of the lake they were approaching no one for an instant doubted. Their chief concern was for a safe passage into the river beyond, for the angry splash of the water told plainly its turbulent and dangerous nature.
“Keep a little off from the shore,” cried Guy. “It won’t do to make too sharp a curve or we shall upset. We must strike the current fairly in the centerand keep the canoe straight as an arrow. Whatever happens, don’t drop the torch,” he added warningly.
Close as they now were to the outlet, no signs of any current were yet visible. The colonel called attention to this strange fact, but Guy explained it by remarking that the current probably passed directly through the center of the lake and that dead water continued to the very edge.
“I can see a white gleam ahead,” he cried suddenly; “now paddle off from shore a little more and head the canoe as I tell you.”
His orders were obeyed in silence. Straight out from the shore the canoe shot deftly. A couple of quick strokes forward and backward and its bow faced the angry waters that raged and foamed thirty yards distant.
The radius of the torch cast a faint gleam on the very edge of the glistening spray. It seemed to beckon them onward.
“Now give way,” cried Guy. Four paddles dipped and rose as one, the shining drops rolled from their blades like so many diamonds in the torch-glare, and then Guy sprang to his feet with a loud cry.
The paddles wavered in mid-air. “Go ahead,” he shouted fiercely. “Paddle with all your strength.”
Once more they dipped the water, the canoemoved slowly—with an effort, and as the paddles a second time paused in air, the canoe shot swiftly—not forward to the embrace of the angry waters, but back—back at dizzy speed into the dark and dismal recesses of the lake.
Even then the awful, unspeakable horror of the situation never flashed upon them, Guy alone perhaps excepted.
“We’ve blundered again,” cried the colonel in hollow tones. “We have returned to the starting point. In some manner we have missed the outlet, and now all must be done over again.”
“Could the canoe have been turned completely about during our journey?” exclaimed Forbes.
“Impossible,” said the colonel. “I can prove it instantly. When we started away from the spot where the river enters on our trip around the lake, the shore was on our right. When we arrived here just now it was still on our right, whereas, had we unconsciously turned the canoe about and reversed our course, the shore would be on our left. We have circumnavigated the lake and returned to our starting point, and in some way missed the outlet.”
“No,” cried Chutney in tones that chilled his hearers with horror. “We did not miss the outlet.”
“What do you mean?” cried the colonel.
“I say we did not miss the outlet,” continuedGuy, “because there was no outlet to miss. No exit from the lake exists. We are entombed forever and ever. None of us will ever see the light of day again. We shall die here in the bowels of the earth, and the serpents will mangle us as they mangled those poor unfortunates yonder on the island. Better to know the truth now than later. It is useless to hope. I tell you we are doomed men and——”
Here Guy’s voice faltered, and sinking down into the canoe, he covered his face with his hands.
Sir Arthur uttered a heartrending cry and fell back in a faint. He lay unnoticed. The torch dropped from the Greek’s nerveless hands and expired with a hiss. In darkness and silence they floated on and on until the roar of the inflowing water became fainter and fainter. Then it died out entirely and all was intensely quiet.
The darkness was grateful to their stricken hearts. They wanted time to realize the awful misfortune that had fallen so suddenly and heavily upon them.
It was impossible to grasp the truth in a moment, especially when that truth meant utter hopelessness and a terrible death. So they drifted in silence under the great vault of the cavern, living-dead in a living tomb.
Long afterward—it might have been an hour and it might have been a day, for all passage of time was lost—Chutney rose to a sitting posture.
His brain was dizzy and reeling. The aching misery lay heavy on his heart, and yet one faint spark of hope lingered amid the black despair, the natural buoyancy of his nature that refused even to submit to the decrees of the inevitable.
It was he who had first spoken the words of doom to his companions, and now he told himself he would show them the way to safety. He fumbled in his clothes for a match, and striking it deliberately, lit a fresh torch.
The pale, haggard faces that looked into each other as the bright light shone over the water were ghastly and unnatural. Abject misery and hopelessness were stamped on each one.
The colonel and Forbes faced Guy calmly. Canaris looked up with a shudder and then dropped his head again. Sir Arthur lay among the rugs as though asleep.
At that instant the canoe struck some obstacle with a slight tremor and stopped.
The colonel with a slight gesture pointed to the right, and there before them lay theIsle of Skeletons. A strange fatality had drifted them a second time to this awful spot.
Guy shuddered, but the colonel rose, and brushing past him stepped on shore.
Forbes followed him in silence, and then Canaris staggered blindly past.
After a brief hesitation Guy stepped out, and dragged the canoe half way up the sand. Sir Arthur never moved. He was sleeping and no one dared disturb him. They sat down in a row on the sand.
“It’s as good a place as any to die,” said Forbes hoarsely. “The bones will soon have company.”
He paused, frightened at his own voice, and no one replied. For a while they sat in silence.
Guy stuck the torch in the sand and it blazed away with a merry light. Somehow or other the ray of hope that had animated him a little while before had vanished, leaving only a dull despair, a reluctance to face the horror of the situation.
“Is there no—no chance—for us?” he ventured to say timidly.
“Absolutely none,” replied the colonel, in a firm voice. “You told us a while ago, Chutney, that our doom was sealed. I have faced the situation as calmly and clearly as possible from every conceivable aspect, and I now tell you on my own responsibility that we will never leave this cavern. The fatal error was made when we took the right-hand channel of the two, or rather when the current led us to the right. That was not our blunder, of course. We were in the hands of destiny. We are now, as you know, on the bosom of a vast lake. Water of an unknown depth is beneath us. Overhead is a vaulted dome of great height, probably the hollowed interior of a mountain; on all sides are massive and perpendicular walls of rock, impregnable and insurmountable.
“The lake is undoubtedly ten miles or more in circumference, and, as you know well, there is no surface outlet. There is an entrance, but we can no more force our way back through that entrance than we could swim up through the Falls of Niagara or ride the Nile Cataracts in a Rob Roy canoe. As long as our provisions last we shall live. When we no longer have anything to eat we shall die, and the next explorer who enters this lake will find our bones mingled with those lying behind us.”
“And what willhedo?” asked Guy.
“Perish like those before him,” said the colonel. “This death trap caught many a victim and will catch many more. The light of day will never pierce this gloom.”
The colonel spoke as though he were demonstrating a problem in Euclid or laying down plans for a campaign.
“I don’t call myself a philosopher,” he went on, “nor am I a fatalist, but I think that most men can face the inevitable with a certain calmness that is only born of absolute despair. Did you ever see a man hanged? I did once. He walked to the gallows as coolly and deliberately as though he weregoing to breakfast. A week before he had been defiant, blustering, terror-stricken. When he realized that he had absolutely no loophole of escape, he faced the inevitable with steady nerves. When you realize your position fully, you will be like that man. You will accept your fate.”
CHAPTER XXVIII.A DESPERATE FIGHT.
The colonel rose, and going down to the canoe helped himself to a handful of crackers and some figs. He came back to his seat and began to munch them very contentedly.
“The most merciful thing we could do would be to cast our provisions into the lake,” he said finally. “It would cut short the agony of waiting, but I don’t suppose you would look at it in that way.”
“No, no; don’t do that,” cried Chutney. “Who knows what may happen yet?”
“Ah! there you are again,” said the colonel; “still clinging to hope of life; still unable to realize the truth. You are only making it so much the harder for yourself.”
“But there is surely some outlet to this vast body of water?” said Melton.
“Yes,” was the colonel’s reply. “Undoubtedly, but it must be at the bottom of the lake; it certainly is not on the surface. Do you suppose those poor savages would have perished here if an outlet had existed? They, too, must have been carried by accident into the wrong channel, and no doubt they circumnavigated the lake, as we have done. Realizing that they were lost, they either slew themselvesto end their sufferings or they fell victims to the serpents without much resistance.”
While Melton and the colonel were carrying on this conversation, Guy rose and went down to the water, with the intention of gathering some food, for he, too, was hungry.
The canoe was pulled partly on shore, and as it leaked a little the water had all collected in the stern, where Sir Arthur still lay in merciful sleep, thus wetting the rugs.
Guy noticed this, and with a view to making the sleeper more comfortable, he slid the canoe down until it lay flat in the water. It still retained a slight hold of an inch or two on the sand.
A sudden cry from the Greek brought him back in a hurry to the top of the island.
His companions were staring out on the lake, and Canaris was pointing with a trembling hand at some unseen object.
“What is the matter?” cried Guy. “What do you see?”
“Hush,” said the colonel, holding up a warning finger. “Something is moving out on the lake. Do you hear it splashing in the water?”
As yet nothing could be seen, but the noise was very plain and distinct, a steady swish! swish! not unlike the beating of a little steamer.
A chilling fear grew on them as they listened to this strange, mysterious sound.
“Whatever it is, it is moving in a circle round the island,” said Guy, “and keeping an equal distance from the shore.”
“You are right, Chutney,” said the colonel, after a pause. “The sound was on our left a moment ago. Now it is on our right.”
The Greek was correct. The surface of the lake was violently agitated, though not a breath of air was stirring, and a steady flow of ripples was breaking on the sandy beach like tiny ocean waves.
The unknown navigator, whatever it was, had nearly completed the circuit of the island now, and was very near the spot where they had first heard it.
“It must be a serpent,” cried Guy. “Heaven grant that it doesn’t approach the island.”
He hurriedly picked up the torch and ran with it to the shore. The radius of light thus thrown over the water illumined a space twenty yards ahead, and revealed a long, dark object moving in graceful undulations over the surface. It was beyond doubt a huge serpent, and, as though angered by the light, the monster suddenly changed its course, and with a terrific splash headed directly for the shore. The huge head was in plain view, and the eyes flashed back fire from the reflected glare of the torch.
For an instant all seemed paralyzed with horror, and no one moved.
Chutney was the first to recover himself.
“We must kill him before he reaches the island,” he cried, staggering back a pace or two. “Get the guns. Quick! quick! or it will be too late!”
He turned to flee across the island toward the canoe, but as he gained the ridge a cry of horror broke from his lips, and as his companions hurriedly reached the spot a single glance showed them what was the matter.
The canoe was no longer on the shore. The swell caused by the approach of the serpent had washed it from its slight support, and now it was twenty yards distant, and drifting farther and farther away with every second.
“The guns! The guns!” shrieked Chutney. “They are all in the boat. We are left at the mercy of the serpent. Sir Arthur! Sir Arthur!” he shouted with all his might, but no response came from the sleeping man, and the canoe continued to recede into the gloom.
At this terrible moment it was Forbes who brought a ray of hope into their despair.
Springing forward he snatched up an armful of the native weapons, spears, and axes, and distributed them to his companions.
“We must fight the monster with these,” hecried; “and while we are keeping him off, you, Canaris, run to the shore and keep on shouting to Sir Arthur. He may wake and get here in time to save us yet.”
“He must be in a faint,” exclaimed the colonel, “or the noise would surely have wakened him. Come on, Chutney, the serpent is halfway to the shore. We may keep him off with these arms.”
The torch was hastily placed in the sand near the water’s edge, and, grasping their weapons firmly, they prepared to check the advance of the monster. Fortunately the spears and axes were of hard iron and fitted with strong handles which the long storage in the cavern seemed to have toughened.
Meanwhile the air echoed with the Greek’s loud cries, but at that moment none thought of Sir Arthur or of the canoe, for the serpent was within half a dozen yards of the island and his great body was undulating through the water for thirty feet behind him.
“Keep cool,” said Chutney. “Aim well for the head and make every stroke tell.”
The sight of the glaring eyes and the blood-red fangs was enough to appall the stoutest heart. They shrank back in uncontrollable fear, as the long neck rose four feet in air and the body sank under the water.
The monster uttered an angry hiss, but before hecould spring Forbes cast a spear with all his might and the sharp point pierced the serpent’s body a foot below the head.
“Back for your lives,” he cried, and as they darted up the island the monster uttered a fearful sound, part hiss, part bellow, and flung half his length in contortions on the sand.
Guy sprang forward and launched another spear that entered the slimy body near the center, but neither wound was mortal and the great serpent came on unchecked.
In one respect they had the advantage of him, as Guy accidentally discovered, for the wicked eyes blinked in the torchlight and the monster’s actions showed that his powers of sight were limited to darkness.
He was wonderfully quick and agile, however, for a sudden convulsive leap carried him almost to the feet of his antagonists, and again they scattered in alarm.
The serpent’s whole body was now on shore, with the exception of the tail, which was lashing the water to a milky foam.
Seizing another spear Guy circled to one side, and boldly approaching the trembling coils, with one terrific blow he planted his weapon into the serpent’s body so deeply that the spear pinned the monster firmly to the ground.
A cry of horror burst from his companions as the huge head swung round with awful quickness, but it missed Guy by barely an inch as he sprang aside.
The serpent’s contortions were now frightful to see, as he squirmed and twisted to tear loose from the weapon. “Now let him have it,” cried Guy; and in an instant the remaining spears, half a dozen in number, were driven deeply into the venomous coils.
The struggle was now at its crisis. With axes in hand they were dodging about the writhing monster, seeking a chance to reach the head, when an awful shriek echoed through the cavern, apparently from some distance out on the lake, and then the Greek’s voice was raised in a loud and urgent appeal for help. What new disaster threatened?