CHAPTER XXIII
THROUGH THE VAULTS
They shared the goats'-milk remaining in the calabash, and at once entered the first exit, that was to lead them, as they ardently hoped, into the warmth and light of the day. Venning went first, carrying only the strange lantern, and Mr. Hume a foot behind, ready to support the boy with a helping hand if he were again overcome by dizziness. Their progress was slow, owing to the dark, but the going was easy enough with a gradual ascent. What pleased them very much was the dwindling of the hubbub made by the waters—a sign that they were going away from that source of danger. In silence and in darkness they kept on up to a point where the walls widened out, and where there was a familiar hut-like smell, necessitating a pause for investigation. Mr. Hume struck a match—for the fungus-lamp shed no ray—and holding it up, disclosed a slab of rock with a pile of white ash on it. Blowing upon this, he started a glow from the still live embers beneath, and placing on a few half-burnt sticks, soon made a fire. By its light they saw a couple of rush-mats, such as the natives make, on the floor, and these, added to the fire, made a blaze which lit up a cavern bearing evidence of frequent use; for there were other mats on a ledge, together with several calabashes, and an earthen pot of native make. Seeing where the passage continued, they hurried on, for these human belongings reminded them forcibly of the existence of beings they had no wish to meet in those dark passages.
"How do you account for people living down here?" asked Venning.
"They may be outcasts from the village, afflicted either by disease or madness, or they may be members of some dark superstition."
"Ugh! I wonder if the Inkosikasi has any connection with them?"
"I rather think so, and when we get out we will have a word with her."
"When we get out! But it will be fine to see old Dick again, and to see the birds and insects on the move in the sun. Halloa! the path turns again—bends to the left."
"Keep on slowly."
As they went the noise of waters again reached them, growing in volume; and when the path turned abruptly to the right, they looked out through a small opening on billows of mist that rolled upwards out of sight.
"Seem to have reached a spot above last night's resting-place."
The wall on their left was very thin, and shook to each report; but presently the passage made a bend to the right, which took them away once more from the mist-laden vault, and then, through a narrow doorway, opened into one of the best-lighted caverns they had yet entered. The light which streamed in from the wall beyond was very welcome to them, but the taste of earth in the air blowing through the crack was better. The first thing they did was to run across to the crack and look out.
"The river—and the valley!" cried Venning.
Below them was the green of the valley bathed in sunshine, the river glittering like silver, and the scene like a glimpse of Paradise after the gloom of their vast prison.
"There goes the eagle we saw when we first arrived, and right away yonder I can see a flock of goats among the rocks."
"Perhaps we could get through and climb down." Mr. Hume thrust an arm through, and spread his fingers to the wind. "We are on the south-west side of the cliff, nearly overlooking the entrance to the canon."
"It is very steep there. We should want a rope—and a long rope, too."
"Yes, I am afraid we must keep on; but, at any rate, it is a comfort to know where we are."
They stepped back and turned to examine the cavern. The floor was dry, the roof high, and it would have made a good room. And a room in occupation it was; for, now they took stock of it, there were signs of the occupants everywhere—a stack of wood in one corner, several karosses rolled up, sleeping-mats, cooking-pots, wooden spoons, a bundle of reeds for arrow-making, and a half-shaped bow, and other odds and ends. But what fixed their attention were a number of white objects on a ledge.
"Look like ostrich eggs," said Venning, reaching up "No, they're not. Skulls—Ethiopian."
"Pah! Drop it," said Mr. Hume.
"Why?" said Venning, who had no qualms in these matters. "You can see it is Ethiopian from the receding forehead, the high cheek- bones, the heavy under-jaw and strong teeth. No white man ever has teeth like that."
"Drop it," said Mr. Hume, sternly.
"But why?"
"Look at this." Mr. Hume pointed to a square block in the centre of, the room—a block all stained with dark streaks that came from a basin in the centre. Venning approached it. "Blood—perhaps a sacrificial stone."
"And this," said Mr. Hume, pointing to a bone projecting from one of the pots. "They are man-eaters."
Venning put down the skull and looked with a white face at his companion.
"Cannibals! That is why they tried to kill us last night."
The Hunter nodded his head. "I did not want to tell you, but I could not stand a lecture on skulls."
"Let us go."
"First let us take a couple of these mats. Cut up, they would serve as torches at a pinch." He tied one on Venning's back and one on his own. "Forward!"
When they wished to proceed, however, they could not find the continuation of the passage, and, to their dismay, it seemed as if they would have to retrace their steps in search for another way out, when behind a hanging mat in the left-hand corner they found a narrow opening. It was not inviting, but they were glad of any path that led away from that evil place, and away also from the lower depths. So, though the way became more and more difficult as they advanced, they continued to press on, now up, now down, at another place going on their hands and knees, and further on having to wriggle between cracks which sorely nipped the Hunter as he forced his heavy frame through. And in the end they came out on the verge of the vast vault, which appeared to fill so much of the space below; emerged on a wind-swept platform, with a sudden din after the quiet of the tortuous passage as of demons shrieking through the air.
Here Venning gave up. He had been now over twenty-four hours underground without one good meal, except the drain of goats'-milk, and after the shock of the previous afternoon, when he hung in mid- air, the disappointment at coming upon another forbidding pit was too much for him. He crouched back against the rock, and sat down.
Mr. Hume spread the mat under the boy, wrapped the kaross over him, and made him comfortable as could be, and then he looked anxiously about. Little comfort did he gain. They had evidently pursued a false trail, and the platform was the end, standing sheer on the edge of that very vaulted space, down which, far down, the jets of water shot out through the blow-holes. Their windings had brought them, after all, to an impasse, and the only retreat was through the chamber of the skulls, where perhaps the savage beings of the underground vault were already collected. Looking over and down, he could see the jets of water shooting out to fall in a mantle of spray, on which the arrow-like shafts of sunlight sparkled in iridescent hues, and through the spray he could see the white waters of the cataract. Above his head there was a jutting rock, which shut out the wall immediately above, but outside the rock he saw the roof of the vault, gaunt ribs of rock pierced at intervals by fissures, through which shone the blue of the sky. Turning to Venning, he saw that the boy's eyes were fixed on those openings with a longing in his look that wrung the man's heart.
Clearly there were only two courses open. They must either go back by the path they had entered by—making up their minds to cross that dizzy ledge in the darkness—or he would have to leave the boy somewhere while he went for help. He gave up the latter alternative at once, and set his mind on the first.
"We will rest for an hour," he said. "Then we will go down."
"To look for another way?" asked the boy, wearily.
"Or to follow the track we entered by."
"I couldn't," whispered the boy.
"Then we will try another passage—the one 'they' went down by. Of course"—and the Hunter's voice gained in cheeriness—"that is our plan, and if we hurry we shall be outside in no time."
"Very well," said the boy, jumping up with a sudden flush in his cheeks, showing a return of feverishness.
"Rest awhile, lad; it is morning yet. See how the sun's rays slant towards the west. At noon they will be vertical, and then we shall have the whole afternoon."
They sat down with their eyes turned up to the specks of blue, and watched the sun-shafts dip from the west towards the centre till they poured their white light straight down. Then they started for the long downward track, Mr. Hume this time leading the way with his rifle ready.
When they came again to the cavern of the skulls, the Hunter paused before pushing the mat aside. For some seconds he stood listening; then, cautious still, with the point of his knife he forced apart a couple of the rush strands and peeped through. The place seemed as it had been, and he was about to step in when he remembered that Venning had placed the skull on the block of stone. There was the block, but there was no skull upon it. Standing back, he whispered to Venning to keep where he was; then, with his rifle ready, he quietly moved the mat aside.
There was a howl, as some creature, squatting on the floor, turned a lined and hideous face towards the corner, and then scuttled out of view. Mr. Hume leapt to the floor, and ran to seize the creature who had taken refuge under a hanging mat. His hand, however, met with no resistance, and, brushing the mat aside, he saw an opening leading down.
"It went down there," he said, as Venning, showing a startled face at the opening, called out to know what had happened.
Venning jumped down, and looked into the new outlet. "Let us follow," he said eagerly.
Mr. Hume shook his head. "We know one has gone. There are probably others; and we don't know that it would lead us out. The other way would."
"It makes me ill to think of the other way," said Venning, vehemently.
"It looks like a rabbit-hole."
"I'll go first."
"It may mean another night, if it takes up much time."
"I'm sure it's right," persisted the boy.
"Very well, here goes;" and the Hunter submitted against his judgment, because he feared beyond anything the breakdown of the boy's nerves.
He was obliged to slide down this black opening, and when he found a footing in a dark, cellar-like place, he at once struck a match under the belief that he stood in a mere pit and nothing else, but a puff of wind blew the match out.
"Come along; there is an opening."
The opening they found, and, as they entered it, they heard a shuffling noise behind.
"It's that hag gone up into the room," cried the Hunter, "and she'll give the alarm. We must go after her."
Venning, however, pushed on. "This is the way," he said wildly; and
Mr. Hume could do no less than follow, frowning as he went.
But it did seem that the boy was right. The little black hole of a passage suddenly opened out into light that almost blinded them by its brilliancy. It was a broad track. On the right was the wall of the cliff pierced with little holes, through which they looked down again on the canon itself, the opposite walls seeming very near.
"Wasn't I right?" asked Venning, with an excited laugh. "We can't be very far above. I fancy I can hear the river."
"Well, there is this about it, if the worst comes, and we can't find a way out, we can signal from one of these holes to people in the valley."
"And Dick would find a way to rescue us—Dick and Muata. Hurrah!
Then we won't have to go down into that awful darkness."
"No; but we may as well see where this leads to."
They had to skirt a Y-shaped fall in the track, and this accomplished, their course, after many windings, terminated at a totally unexpected spot, no less than a point high up the face of the cliff rising sheer up from the Deadman's Pool. They stepped out from the passage into broad day, and raised their hats to let the wind blow upon them, but they found that they were as far off from escape as before. Below, the cliff sank hundreds of feet; above, it rose like a wall without foothold; but they were thankful for the sunlight, for the far view over the dark forest, for the privilege to look once more on the unruffled sky. Now that they were in the light, they could take stock of each other, and found it in their hearts to start a feeble laugh at the covering of mud, smoke, and green mould that almost disguised their identity.
But it was a comfort to stretch their aching limbs in the sun, to take the pure air into their lungs, to look restfully away over the trees that marched unbroken to the uttermost horizon. They dozed under the influence of the sunlight, blinking their eyes like cats, and when Mr. Hume stirred at last, the sun was slipping down the western slope.
"We must be going," he said, looking down.
"I suppose so," said Venning, wearily.
"There's something astir down there. Men are moving up the slope towards the gorge—and, by George, they are Hassan's men too!"
Venning stood up, and looked down upon a file of little figures breasting the slope.
"Good thing I had that wall built. Dick will be having his hands full. Come along; we may get out in time yet to take a share in the fight, for his sake."
Venning remained staring down, with a look in his face that brought the Hunter back.
"What do you see?"
"Of all the idiots," said the boy—"of all the miserable, shortsighted, thick-headed, addle-pated duffers and asses we are the worst! We took pains to find a way into a fiendish maze of tunnels, pits, and caverns, occupied by vampires and enveloped in darkness, in search of a thing that was never there."
"As what?"
"Look there!" and the boy pointed down. "There's our boat—down there, out in the broad daylight."
"You're mistaken, lad."
"There—straight down—in that patch of reeds on the right of the pool."
"That's her, right enough," said Mr. Hume, excitedly.
"And to think we've been wandering about in fear of our lives on a false scent."
"It makes me feel bad; but the mistake has been made, and now we've got to get out, and get out in time to help Dick."
"Oh, Dick's all right," said Venning, crossly. "He's got plenty to eat, and a warm bed."
"Chew this;" and the Hunter handed his last bit of biltong.
Venning took it, and followed on into the passage, chewing and growling over their folly.
"We will laugh over our troubles," said the Hunter, patiently, "when we get out."
"When we get out! I don't believe there is a way out. Anyhow, I am not going a step further beyond the place where we found the loopholes."
Mr. Hume made no reply.
"I have been thinking over it," Venning went on.
"The place cant be very high above the level of the ground outside. We could easily attract attention by filing a shot out. Then we would make a rope out of the rushes in these mats, lower it with a bit of stone at the end, on which we could write directions to Dick with a bit of burnt stick, to hitch on a rope. We would haul in the rope, make it fast, and then shin down."
"But suppose Dick is busy beating off the attack of Hassan's men?"
"Then we'll wait. I'm not going further—not a foot. If you like, sir, you can go, but I will stay. I am not going down into those horrible caves." His voice rose to a shout.
"All right," said the Hunter, soothingly. "In any case, I am afraid we have left it too late."
"Late or early, I'll not go on."
When they did reach the loopholes, they found on looking out that the valley on that side was already in the shadow.
"We will stay, then," said Mr. Hume. "Let me unstrap the mat from your shoulders."
Venning had already sat down with a dogged look in his face, and Mr. Hume had to lift him up to loosen the mat. The boy—there was no disguising the matter any farther—was ill, and it would clearly be dangerous to excite him by opposition.
After making the boy comfortable, Mr. Hume sat smoking his pipe, the first time for many hours, in lieu of food. He himself was feeling the effect of the long period of anxiety, for he had scarcely eaten a mouthful, beyond his drink of milk, as he had given his little store to his young friend, who was in more need of it. But it was not of himself he thought. He had a new anxiety about Dick, and bitterly blamed himself for having so blindly followed the woman into this horrible place, that was one succession of death-traps.
"I'm very thirsty," muttered the boy.
Mr. Home leaned over him. "Keep quiet," he said, "and I'll bring you some water."
Taking only his Ghoorka knife and his match-box, the Hunter went on to the Cave of Skulls. Luckily for the denizens of that ominous place, none of them were there to bar his entrance, for he was in a grim mood, so making a bonfire of some of the mats, he looked about. One calabash contained water, and this he carried back, together with something equally precious—a bunch of bananas that were black with smoke, yet fit to eat by any one who was very hungry or did not see them. The boy was sitting up waiting with burning eyes.
"You were so long," he muttered.
"But I won't go away again, old chap. I've brought you quite a feast."
Venning took a long drink, ate the bananas, and fell back on his pillow, while the Hunter resumed his seat to watch through another night. It seemed as if they were to be left in peace. Since that solitary, withered, and scared creature dived out of the cave they had seen no one. But still he sat on guard as the hours slipped slowly by, and then there came a surprising thing.
Just the tinkle made by a drop of water falling into a pool!
It came at regular intervals, incessant, musical, and he began to count it, wondering at the height it fell, and marvelling at the noise it made.
And then he leapt to his feet, and stood a moment in breathless amazement. A single drop of water to be heard above all that multitudinous clamour! What did it mean? It meant a silence so profound that from the black depth of the yawning cavity the tiny tinkle could reach him. It meant that the roaring torrent was stilled!