Chapter II
Hours must have passed while I lay without movement or consciousness. For when at length I came to a confused awareness of myself, the scene had changed alarmingly. The fog must still have been about me; but all that met my eyes was a black blank, an opaqueness so absolute that for the moment I imagined I had lost my sight. It was a minute before I dimly recollected what had happened, and knew that I was somewhere on the mountainside, and that it was now night.
But it was long before I realized the full horror of my predicament. My head was feeling dull and dazed; my throat was parched; I was by turns shivering and burning, and my limbs were all aching and sore. I was lying sprawled head down on a couch of rock, and a rock-wall to my left formed my support and pillow; but when I tried to change position, a staggering pain in my right arm warned me to go slowly, and I understood that the limb was hanging limp and useless.
It did not occur to me then to wonder what had happened to Damon, nor how long I should have to remain here, nor how I should escape. My thoughts were blurred and half delirious, and I think that unconsciousness came to me again in snatches. More often than not I was as one in a dream; visions of white peaks beset me continually, and always on those peaks I saw a gigantic woman with hands outspread and beatifically smiling face; and that woman seemed at times to call to me, and at times to mock; and now she would take me to her in great warm arms, and now would vanish like vapor in my clasp....
It was after one such nightmare that I opened my eyes and found the darkness less intense. A pale gray light seeped wanly through the mist; and in that dreary dawn I came gradually to understand my own helplessness. While everything above was clouded, the fog had unrolled from below—and my gaze traveled to panoramas that bewildered and appalled me. Then, as by degrees the fumes cleared from my mind, I was able to realize just what had happened—and shuddered to think what might have happened. I was resting on a narrow ledge; above me the rocky grade leaned at an angle halfway to the vertical, and beside me was a blood-spattered boulder. It was this obstruction that had saved my life—directly at my feet, a precipice slanted down to the dim depths.
And yet, as I lay there groaning, I wondered if I would not have been better off to have plunged into the chasm. I was so bruised that I could hardly move a limb; my legs were too feeble to support me when I strove to rise; internally I was so shaken that I could not be certain of my equilibrium; and my right arm, acutely painful, dangled helplessly at my side. Clearly, escape would be impossible....
And if at first I imagined that there was just a chance of rescue—just a chance that a searching party from camp would find me—my hopes gave place to a dull, settled despair as the hours wore endlessly away. The fog, after lifting for a while, slowly re-formed; and with its return I felt that my death-sentence had been passed. I could not now be seen at more than twenty yards—and who could come near enough to discover me on this detached shelf?
There followed an interval in which I must have sunk into delirium. Then, after a series of grotesque imaginings or dreams in which I was always trying to drink from streams that vanished at my touch, I was roused from a half-conscious lethargy by the sound of voices. Could it be that I was still dreaming? As eagerly as was now possible, I stared into the wilderness of crags. The fog had vanished; but the only moving thing was a great bird circling in the blue.
Cruelly disappointed, I again closed my eyes. But once more I thought I heard voices calling. This time there could be no doubt—the sound had been clear-cut, reminding me of men joyously shouting.
And as that sound was renewed, I opened my eyes again, and peered searchingly into the abyss. Still all was bare and motionless. Yet, even as I wondered, I heard those mysterious voices anew, nearer now than ever; and for the first time I recognized that they came not from beneath me but from above! Eagerly I gazed up at the rocky heights—but there was no sign that they had ever been disturbed by human presence.
I was half convinced that my fever had been playing me tricks, when a slender little moving shape far above caught my attention. After an instant, it disappeared behind a ledge, but after another instant emerged; and close behind it trailed other specks—slowly jogging specks with upright forms!
In that first dumbfounded moment, I did not ask myself who they might be. Enough that they were human—and almost within hail! Quivering uncontrollably, I strove vainly to lift myself to a sitting posture. Then, with what scanty lung power remained to me, I attempted to shout; but my dry throat gave forth scarcely a feeble mumbling, the mere ghost of a voice.
And directly following that first sharp relief, still sharper terror seized me. Must I remain here unseen? At that thought, I was racked with a dry crackling laugh, more like a cough than an expression of mirth; and I lifted my left hand and frantically waved my red-bordered handkerchief, while cackling and gibbering to myself like an insane old man.
By bending my neck and straining my eyes, I could still follow the figures. Had my enfeebled voice permitted, I would have shouted out curses, would have laden them with all the imprecations of hell, when they passed directly above and glided on their way around a bend in the mountain. There were at least half a dozen of them, and they could not have been from the camp, for they were clad in blue and red not at all like the khaki we wore; and their voices had some quality quite unlike anything I had heard before. There even seemed to be a note of excitement in their calls, a tone of surprise, though of that I could not be sure.
Some time later I opened my eyes once more, and saw three turbaned men descending almost within arm's reach.
Whether they had been friends or head-hunting savages, their first effect upon me would have been the same. In my weakened state, I was unprepared for the shock; my senses forsook me, and unconsciousness returned.
But when at length I came to myself, I seemed to be in another world. The first thing I realized was that I was sitting with head propped up against the boulder; and at the same time I was aware of the sound of voices, voices that were pleasant although unfamiliar. And as I opened my eyes, my surprise increased; not three strangers but six stood before me, two of them women!
Even in my half-dazed condition, I observed something peculiar about these persons. A single glance told me that they belonged to no race I had ever seen or heard of; they were manifestly mountaineers, yet did not wear the usual Afghan garb. Men and women alike were attired in stout loose-fitting dark-blue garments of some material reminding me of canvas, with red stripes and dots, and bizarre yet not unattractive designs. In person they were clean-cut and prepossessing; the men tall and well-built, with long full beards, swarthy countenances and proud flashing black eyes; while the women were among the most attractive I had ever seen.
So, at least, it seemed to me when the younger, scarcely more than a child, lifted a small leather flask to my mouth and motioned me to drink. With an effort, I moistened my lips; then, frantic as a drug addict deprived of his drug, I swallowed a long draught, draining the entire contents.
And as, half revived, I lay against the boulder, I observed that the strangers were all peering at me with curiosity and wonder. But equal wonder and curiosity, I am sure, stared from my own eyes; while my glance may have already been too partial to her who had ministered to my thirst. For I could see how strikingly she differed from her companions; her complexion was lighter than theirs, and she had an airy grace and beauty which set her apart.
Peering at her closely, I thought that she might be about sixteen or seventeen. Her clear white skin had the stainlessness of perfect health; her hair, which hung in unbound curls and ringlets about her slender neck, was of a rich auburn; her eyes, in startling contrast to that auburn, were dark like the eyes of her kindred, and in the deep brown of the iris live fires glowed and smoldered; her features were modelled with exquisite daintiness, the forehead of medium height and rounded like a half moon, the nose small and gracefully pointed, the gently curving chin tapering to a firm little knob. Her lips, tiny and thin, had at times a creasing of merriment about the corners that gave her almost a puckish appearance. Although slimly built and not much over five feet in height, she did not lack at all in robustness; she flitted from place to place with great agility; and her rude unhampering garments fitted her ideally for mountain climbing.
After the exhaustion of our first few minutes together, I was again close to unconsciousness. But now I felt strong hands lifting me; and opened my eyes to find two men smiling upon me encouragingly. At the same time, something pungent and aromatic was thrust between my lips; the girl was extending a handful of dried herbs, which she motioned me to consume with a genial dimpling smile that I had no power to resist.
After swallowing the food, I felt considerably better. Having finished the entire handful and washed it down with a draught from a second leather flask, I had revived sufficiently to try to sit up unaided; and simultaneously I realized how ravenously hungry I was, and felt a fresh desire to live flaming up within me.
Being eager for a word with my benefactors, I muttered something in English without thinking exactly what I was saying. But the surprised answering stares cut me short in sharp realization. What could these mountain folk know of English?
There was a short, awkward pause; then, after a few words among themselves, they addressed me in their native tongue. At the first syllable, I realized that theirs was not the cultivated Persian of the Afghan court, but rather a variety of Pushtu, the speech in most common use among the people. From my wanderings of the past few months and especially from contact with the native guides, I had gathered a few words of this language, enough to enable me to recognize its peculiar intonation, although I could express none but the simplest ideas.
After a second handful of the dried herbs, and another draught of water, I felt well enough to try to stagger to my feet. But the effort was too much for me; my limbs threatened to collapse beneath me; and two of the men had to bolster me up.
But once I had arisen, they would not let me return to my rock-couch. Grimly they motioned toward the snow-streaked northern peak, as if to indicate that we must pass beyond it; at the same time, one of them pointed to the stone image on the summit; while the others, as if observing a religious rite, extended their arms solemnly and almost imploringly toward that strange womanly figure.
At the moment, it did not occur to me that their attitude was one of prayer; but later I was to remember this fact. For the time, my thoughts took a more personal turn; for when I saw my new acquaintances preparing to lead me across the mountains, I was profoundly alarmed. Although still too stunned to take in the full reality, I knew that I was on the threshold of unpredictable adventures, and that many a day might pass before I could rejoin my fellow geologists.
But when the ascent actually began, I was not at all certain that I should survive. We seemed to be undertaking the impossible; I had, literally, to be lifted off my feet and carried; my legs were useful only on the short stretches of comparatively level ground. In the humiliation of being an invalid, I felt a deep sense of inferiority to these brawny men that tugged and strained to bear me up the mountain; while, with increasing admiration, I noted the capable way in which they carried me along the brink of canyons, or over grades that I should have had to make on my hands and knees. But greatest of all was my admiration for the young girl who had offered me the dried herbs. She seemed agile as a leopard and sure-footed as a mountain sheep, leaping from boulder to boulder and from crag to crag with the swiftness and abandon of a joyous wild thing....
Hours—how many I cannot estimate—must have been consumed in the ascent. Fortunately, I am not a large man, being but five feet six in height and considerably under the average weight; but, even so, I proved more than an ordinary burden. Though my rescuers worked in shifts and each seemed powerful enough to carry me single-handed, yet before long the exertion began to tell upon them all. Occasionally, after completing some precipitous ascent, they would pause to mop their brows and rest; or else their bulging eyes and panting frames would testify to the ordeal they were undergoing.
Higher and higher we mounted, while they showed no thought of abandoning their efforts. In joy not unmixed with a half-superstitious dread, I saw the statuesque figure on the peak slowly approaching; saw its outlines expand until it seemed but a mile away, clad in a somber gray and beckoning like some idol superbly carved by a race of Titans. But while I was asking myself whether we were to climb to the very foot of this image, I observed that we were following a little trail which no longer ascended but wound sinuously about the mountainside. For what seemed time unending we plodded along this path, while in my weakness I was more than once close to fainting.
But, as we jogged ahead, the scenery was gradually changing; from time to time I caught glimpses of far-off snowy peaks and a deep basin north of "The Mountain of Vanished Men." It was long before this valley stretched before us in an unbroken panorama; but when I saw it entire it was enough to make me forget my sufferings.
Certainly, it was unlike any other valley in the world. A colossal cavity had been scooped out in the heart of the wilderness; on every side the mountain walls shot downward abruptly for thousands of feet, forming a circle dominated at all points by jagged and steepled snow-tipped peaks. Dense woods mantled the lower slopes, and the valley's entire floor was forested except for relatively small patches of grass lands. The whole depression might have been five miles across, or might have been fifteen; but it was deep and round as the crater of some gigantic extinct volcano; and there seemed to be scarcely a pass that gave exit or ingress. I particularly noticed how the shadows, creeping blackly from the western mountain rim as the afternoon sun declined, shed an uncanny, ghost-like effect; while remote waterfalls, leaping soundlessly from the high cliffs with slender streamers of white, served only to enhance the impression of a spectral and unreal beauty.
It was with sudden joy that I saw my new-found acquaintances turn toward this valley, and realized that this was the home to which they were leading me.