CHAPTER XX
THE SECRET WAY
But when day dawned the vice-chief was summoned to hear a message from Muata, who had reported that Hassan had discovered the dark river leading up to the tabooed pool, and was sending up a strong fleet of canoes, while still more canoes were gathering on the other river by which he had made his first attack. His orders were that a body of picked men were to join him to take part in an attack on the first body of the enemy. Mr. Hume was fully occupied in carrying out these instructions, but on the chiefs mother suggesting that the chosen band should be accompanied by the Young Lion, he emphatically declined to allow this.
"As you wish to keep us here," he said, "we will stay here; and, take notice, we have already seen what was in the mind of the chief by taking steps to protect the entrance above the tabooed water."
The chiefs mother desisted, but she went up to interview the two young chiefs.
"The great one," she said, "has very strong medicine?"
Compton nodded his head gravely.
"He was consulting with the spirits in the night when he sent forth those fire-devils?"
Another nod.
"Wow! And the spirits told him to build a wall across the entrance, and to make a fence across the river?"
"That was wisely done, as you see, mother."
"Haw! Tell me why the spirits told him to move the village to a place which is further from this cave;" and she looked through narrowed eyes.
"Ohe!" said Venning, "that was also wise. The old village stood on low ground, the new village is on high ground."
"And a tall man sees over the head of a small one," she answered, with a scornful laugh.
"Wait, mother of wisdom. If the enemy secured the gates and flooded the valley, which would be safer—the village on low ground, or the village on a hill?"
"Yoh! It is strong medicine." She sat looking at them for some time in silence. "It is only the great one who can make medicine?"
Compton looked thoughtful.
"Come," she said, in a wheedling tone, touching him with a finger, "make medicine for one who carried food to the good white man."
"What would you like to know, mother?"
"Tell me, O son of him who taught us—tell me, O lion's cub—tell me if the chief will find his own kraal."
"That would need strong medicine—very strong."
"Only a little. Consider; it was these hands who carried the good white man water and wood. Only a little word, his son."
"A little word, mother; but it requires much thought, and how can a son make medicine without his father's 'familiar'—the thing he consulted, the thing you promised to bring to me?"
"I will fetch it," said the woman, rising. "In the morning you shall have it;" and she went in the direction of the gorge.
"Seems to me, Dick, the old lady is at the bottom of this mystery.
You'd better be very careful how you deal with her."
"I want to get my father's book," said Compton.
"Of course you do; but you want to get back the Okapi as well, and if you offend her it may turn out more awkward for us."
"Well, then, suppose we follow her now?" and Compton, always ready to act, jumped up.
"What's the good? Remember how she spotted Mr. Hume the day he 'blazed' the trees. Believe she's got eyes in the back of her head. No; but I learnt a trick from a keeper in dear old Surrey that will do what we want."
In the dusk Venning put the trick into effect with the help of his companions. It was simple enough. He drew fine linen threads from a handkerchief, stained them black and stretched them across the track down the gorge at five different intervals, and at the height of a few inches from the ground.
In the morning, at sunrise, the chief's mother was at the cave. Seeing Mr. Hume, she promptly begged a pipe of tobacco, and sitting down, expounded at great length the laws of the clan, together with those which had been passed during the past few days.
"The chief's hut," she said, "will be ready at the round of the moon, and the people look forward to much feasting."
"They had better be preparing to meet Hassan and his wolves, lest they themselves be food for the pot."
She snapped her fingers. "Hassan will die within the gates, and his wolves will perish in the uttermost depths."
"What depths are they?"
She laughed, and, with a glance at Compton, went off down towards the village, bearing on her head a square-shaped package.
"Your book, Compton! Better follow her. Evidently she wants to speak to you alone, Keep her engaged while Venning and I go back on her trail."
Compton overtook her below the ledge, where, as if expecting his coming, she was waiting; and while they were engaged, the others went off on the trail.
"Hurrah!" said Venning, pointing to the ground as they turned into the gorge; "the first string is broken. She came out this way."
They went on, keen as hounds on the scent, and both pointed to the snapped ends of the second string. Passing over the stone wall just built which here crossed the defile, they came to the third cotton— broken also. The fourth was, however, intact, and so was the fifth.
"Thank goodness!" muttered Venning.
"Bad luck, you mean."
"No, sir; good luck. I was beginning to think that she had gone right on down to that dismal pool."
They went back to the broken strand, and Mr. Hume brought the broken ends together. "Just hold them in position." He climbed on the wall, and, with the gorge opening away between the enclosing cliffs, he took his line from the spot where Venning kept his fingers on the broken ends.
"Good," he said, returning. "The cotton was broken at a point two or three yards out of the straight track. She must have gone towards the wall on our right."
Venning's eyes went to the cliff; but the Hunter examined the ground, and expressed his satisfaction at what he saw in a low chuckle.
"What do you see?" asked Venning, breathlessly, glancing quickly at
Mr. Hume's face, and back at the wall of rock.
"I should like Muata to be here. It is a good point."
"What, sir—what?"
"A woman's skirt on the dew, lad. See, a man would pass through those two rocks there and leave no mark; but a woman, with the swing of her skirt, wipes a spread of dew off on either side. You can see the dark smudge in the glister of the dewdrops."
"I see," said Venning, starting forward towards two rocks with a passage between.
"Steady, lad. Follow me."
He went forward to the rocks, which were almost under the right wall, and inch by inch examined the stony ground.
"The direction should be there," he said, pointing ahead; "but there's nothing but a dead wall."
They ranged up and down in a fruitless attempt to pick up the lost spoor, and came back to the two rocks.
"Maybe she did not pass this way, sir."
"A sign is a sign, and a spoor a spoor. She passed between these rocks this morning."
"Then she must have come down the wall;" and Venning, stepping forward, placed his hand on the rock. He started back and stared up at the rock. Then he touched it again, with a curious look in his face, and next placed his ear against it. "Come here, sir."
Mr. Home went forward, and, placing his hand on the rock, felt it vibrating. Then he placed his ear to the rock.
"What do you hear?" asked Venning.
"A noise like the roar of the sea."
"Or the rush of a great body of water."
"Seek ye the honey-bee, O Spider."
They whipped round at the mocking voice, and saw the Inkosikase standing a few feet off, having come upon them with great quietness.
"Where is the young chief?" asked Mr. Hume at once.
"Be not afraid, great one. He sits over the 'familiar' of his father, learning wisdom and strong medicine. And is your medicine at fault, great one, that you should set snares in the path for a woman, as boys do for the coneys?"
She laughed, and the great one caught hold of his beard, as he eyed her, wondering whether the time had come to make her speak.
"Is it honey ye seek, O Spider, young chief who watches always?"
"It is honey, mother." Venning tapped the rock. "Ye may hear the bees humming within. We would enter the hive."
She laughed again. "Ohe! ye are too wise for me, ye two. If I did not show you the way, I see ye would find it."
She stepped past them, walked a few paces, then, with one hand upreaching to a knob of rock, and a naked toe in a notch, she climbed up the height of a man, stepped to a ledge, and held a hand down to Venning. A few steps along the ledge, when they stood by her side, brought them to a depression in the cliff. Removing a few stones, she said with a look of sadness—
"Behold the depth that was my secret, and is now yours."
A gush of moist air came out of the dark opening, bringing with if the sound of hoarse mutterings. Now they had found the opening, they did not know what to do, far; it was not inviting, and they stood looking at it warily:
"You would have me enter first," she said quietly. "Come, then, for it is not all dark within."
She disappeared, and Mr. Hume followed next, with a whisper to Venning that they must not let her get out of sight. A little way they passed along a narrow passage, facing a rushing current of moist air, and then stepped out into a cavern dimly lit by a shaft of light that crept through the roof. The woman crossed the floor, and they followed her down another passage, into another cavern larger than the first. This, too, was dimly lit, and as they stood with a feeling of mystery and uncertainty that comes to men when they quit the surface bathed in light fop the-dark underground, they felt the floor vibrate under their feet, and heard, as if the source of the uproar were near at hand, a great booming with a shrill note at intervals.
"Would ye enter further?" asked the woman.
"Have ye entered further, mother?"
"Yebo, 'Ngonyama (lion)."
"Then lead on."
"Listen, Ngonyama; listen, Indhlovu (elephant). There is a path for the lion in the veld, and another for the elephant in the forest; but this path is only for those who know it, and are welcome to those who made it. The sun shines without. It were better if Ngonyama and the Spider blinked their eyes in the light Mid the warmth."
"If ye have trodden the way, so will we. Lead on."
"Ye lose your wisdom, great one; but see, I go;" and she went from the cave into a vaulted passage, in which they encountered the blast laden with moisture, that made the walls slimy and the floor a series of puddles.
The way was dark, and they splashed and stumbled in growing discomfort in the footsteps of the leader, who kept on at a quick walk, showing a thorough familiarity with the passage. Sometimes, as they could tell from the sound, the roof of the passage extended to great heights; at others it closed in till they had to stoop their heads. But their guide kept on without a pause, and presently, to their great relief, they saw ahead a faint reflection of the light upon a wet slab of rock. Hurrying on, they emerged from the passage into a vast chamber, across which, though there was light enough to distinguish each other, they could not see. Mr. Hume took a step forward, with his face turned up, in an effort to see the roof through the films of vapour that floated overhead.
"Stop, Ngonyama—see to your footing;" and the woman's hand restrained him.
He started back involuntarily, for at his feet there was a yawning abyss, out of which came the sound of rushing waters, and the curling wraiths of vapours, but so deep and so dark that the eye could detect no gleam of the flood beneath.
"Thanks, mother."
"Ohe! Ngonyama, remember I stood between you and death that time."
She moved away to the right, and they followed, going on a ledge which skirted the yawning abyss.
It was a perilous passage, and both of them would have been glad to turn back after they had gone a few steps, if the woman had suggested it. A feeling of vertigo seized them, so that they had to stop, leaning away from them for fear of falling over out of sheer dizziness. When they did move again, they groped for a footing with a complete feeling of helplessness, expecting every moment to slip on the slimy rock, and the further they advanced the worse they felt, for it would be as bad to turn back as go on. Looking back, Mr. Hume at one pause saw a little splatter of flame. Venning had groped for a match and struck a light; but before he could see anything by its reflection, Mr. Hume blew it out, and placed his heavy hand on the boy's shoulders to steady him.
"Worst thing you could do," he said.
"It's so dark," muttered the boy.
"Dark enough, but she's gone ahead safely enough."
They stood for some time, and seemed to gather comfort from the touch of each other's hands.
"I am ready now," said Venning.
"That's good. Keep your eyes raised and your shoulder to the wall.
Forward!"
They crept rather than walked round that fearful gallery, traversing the unknown height with the roar of waters coming up from the unseen depth, and the silent wraiths of vapour making the darkness visible as they curled upwards to disappear into the vast vault.
"If I can only get safe out of this," thought Venning at each step,
"I will never try to leave the valley again by this way."
The valley was only a few hundred yards away, but it seemed to him that he must have left it ages ago. Every second had been charged with a new sensation since he left the brightness outside, and each slow, wary, suspicious movement he made had in it a whole sequence of fears. Would he slip? "Would his foot fall on firm rock? Would something—he knew not what—grab him from out that awful pit? Would some one or something—he was sure there was something creeping behind—would it spring on him? Would that woman's hand suddenly shoot out from some crevice and hurl the both of them headlong? Was it never coming to an end? And the rock was shaking worse than ever! It would be easier to crawl! Of course it would. He went down on his hands and knees and laughed, because it was so easy. There was something on his back, something that jogged about and hit him on the side of the head, that gripped him round the chest! What was it? He felt gingerly, and laughed again. His carbine! What was the use of a carbine there? No good, of course. What a joke to throw it down and hear the splash, or, better, to fire it off and hear the echoes!
"Venning!"
The boy chuckled as he sat on the ledge tugging at the buckle.
"Why, lad!"
The great hands closed on the boy, lifted him up, and bore him lightly as the man felt his way with his feet. He counted his steps, assuring himself that before he came to seventy-five they would be at the end.
"Ngonyama!" cried a voice, quite close.
"We are coming, mother."
"Ngonyama! Ngonyama! Ngonyama!" and the voice grew fainter.
"Wait—wait, O mother of chiefs, for the way is dark, and we move slow."
"Slower fast, slower fast, Ngonyama, it matters not."
"It is far, mother! Are we near the end?"
"Near the end—very near! Is it the dead ye carry, Ngonyama?"
"Nay, mother; the boy is but sick. But where are you, that ye see and are not seen, that your voice is near and yet far?"
The woman laughed. "So ye grow afraid, O great one? Said I not,
Indhlovu, that this was not your path? Death is around."
Mr. Hume went forward steadily, counting his paces to keep his mind from wandering, and to his great joy he came suddenly on an opening in the wall which led towards welcome light, away from the horrors of that unfathomable pit. The woman waited for him there, looking very tall against the light.
"The boy is sick, mother—a little water."
"It is water now. Outside it was the honey he asked for. Set him down, Ngonyama—the child is weakly; set him down, and see to yourself."
"What words we these, woman?"
"Woman, yes; but master here, Ngonyama; and my words are easy to understand. Let the child be, and I will bring you out of this."
"Bring me water," he said sternly.
"There is plenty beyond. Carry him to the water if ye will, but the water will have you both." She laughed shrilly.
Mr. Hume went on towards the light, and found himself in another cavern reaching far up to a roof, from which hung long stalactites glistening white. There was light enough reflected from these hanging pillars to see, and he looked anxiously into Venning's face. The boy's eyes were closed.
"Water," he said.
"Ohe! there is water beyond;" and she pointed ahead.
Again he went on without a thought about the marvels that disclosed themselves in the cave in the shapes of crystals and cones of sulphuric origin; but, as he advanced, he was aware of strange, intermittent sounds resembling explosions. Pushing on, he saw the white spray of falling water, then the gleam of wet rock, and stopped at the edge of a cataract, milk white from the churned foam. He soaked a handkerchief in the water and bathed the boy's face.
The woman was at his side. "Leave him; he belongs to the water.
Leave him and follow, lest ye also go down."
"He Is only weak, mother. In a little time he will be ready to follow."
He applied himself to the task of bringing the boy round, and when he looked up again the woman had gone. Then for the first time he glanced around him, and saw that he stood in a small cave opening into a noble vault, lit up from top to bottom by a broad fan of light that streamed through a fissure in the roof. Opposite to where he stood, and a little above, the river emerged from its subterranean passage in a long green slide, to break into white where it fell upon the rocks before its headlong rush at his feet. In the rock above the point where the river emerged there were several round holes, and at intervals of a few seconds, columns of water spurted through these with loud reports. They shot far out, then broke into fine spray, on which the light produced wonderful colour effects. He could scarcely take his eyes off these blow- holes, so strange, so fascinating was the sight, and it was only the faint sound of a sigh that called his attention to his patient.