CHAPTER VIII
THE LEDGE OF DEATH
I suppose that Leith was not far wrong when he gave that place the credit of being the most wonderful spot in Polynesia. None of us felt inclined to contradict him as we stood near the lip of the crater and gazed into it. The thing appalled us. It looked as if some fiend had bored it between those barriers of black rock as a trap for man and beast. The entire inner walls, probably from the action of intense heat upon a peculiar kind of rock, were of a bright vermilion near the top, gradually changing into darker shades as the eye followed them deeper and deeper till the outline was lost in the depths of the mighty cauldron. The inky clouds, which seemed to heave like black masses of cotton wool far down in the abyss, left the imagination to perform acrobatic feats as it attempted to picture the possible depths that lay below. The thing was weird, terrible, fear-inspiring. It looked like a mighty crucible in which infernal things might have been manufactured in the days when the world was taking shape.
The rays of the westering sun beat upon the sides directly opposite our point of observation, and the colours seemed to leap from the rock. It glowed in a manner that was indescribable. Sudden flashes came from it as if the vermilion mass was studded with blazing carbuncles, but the fascinating beauty of the part that was exposed to the rays was in violent contrast to the cold depths where the mind pictured a body falling through leagues of space.
For about five minutes no one spoke. The awful suddenness with which the thing had appeared in our path throttled conversation. An inner self connected the pit with the singular feeling of depression which had gripped us the moment we landed upon the island, and we stood breathless, wondering stupidly how we had sensed the vermilion-lined horror into which the path led.
It was the Professor who broke the silence. The momentary awe which he experienced when the strange freak of nature sprang up before his eyes was dispelled by the vanity which prompted him to air his knowledge concerning the cause of the vivid colours which seemed to radiate from the walls. He prattled upon the effect of heat upon minerals till he made us dizzy, and Holman broke in upon his chatter with a question that he fired point blank at Leith.
"But what did we climb up here for?" asked the youngster. "Did we come for the view alone?"
Leith grinned as he surveyed the questioner. "No, we didn't come for the view," he answered. "It happens to be on the way to our destination."
Holman looked around at the basalt walls that hemmed us in on both sides, and then glanced at the pit in front.
"But we can go no farther," he said.
Leith's smile spread across his ugly flat face. "You are too young to know everything," he sneered.
The youngster's eyes opened as he looked again at the circular pit with its brilliantly tinted sides. The answer perplexed him, and he waited anxiously for an explanation.
"But how can we?" he asked.
Leith stood for a moment before replying, then he moved closer to the edge of the crater and pointed down.
"The road is directly beneath you," he remarked. "If you come closer to the edge you can see it." Holman glanced at me in amazement, and moved by the one impulse we stepped toward the ledge. The rim of the vast pit, at the point where Leith was standing, was composed of porphyry of a dark-green shade, and as we neared the edge we noticed that this had been worn to that peculiar velvety smoothness that one notices on the pillars of Indian temples, where the sweaty hands of millions of worshippers have helped in the polishing process through unnumbered centuries.
Leith noticed that our glances were directed upon the peculiar polished portion of the rim, and his grin broadened.
"You won't be the first to go over on to the track below," he drawled. "If I had a dollar for every man who slipped over here since the world began I wouldn't bother with specimens for American and European museums. See, the ledge is directly beneath, and it leads away to the right."
We stretched out our necks and looked, and I tried to thrust back the exclamation that came to my lips. Directly beneath the polished part of the rim, and about four feet below it, was a ledge barely three feet wide, and this narrow path wound away to the right and disappeared through a cavernous opening in the brightly tinted walls of the crater. The ledge was bare and unprotected, polished to the same velvety smoothness as the spot on the rim near which we stood, and when one looked at it and then let his eyes glance over the infernal depths that were immediately beneath, the brain reeled with thoughts of the danger to which a climber would be exposed while making his way along it to the cavern in the wall.
Holman took a great breath of air and turned savagely upon Leith.
"What sort of a fool game are you up to?" he cried. "What do you mean?"
Leith's lower jaw came forward menacingly. "You had better hold your tongue!" he roared. "If you don't I'll—I'll——"
He stopped and glared at the young fellow, a murderous expression creeping over his sallow face. The half-voiced objection to the route had stirred all the sleeping devil in him, and the big stubby fingers crooked as if certain they would be called upon to grip Holman's throat.
"You'll do what?" asked the youngster coolly.
"I'll bundle you back to the yacht!" screamed the giant. "You've been allowed to come on this trip through the good nature of Professor Herndon, but you mustn't think you have any voice in the direction of affairs."
Holman did not reply. The dangers of the path over which it was evident that Leith intended to take us dazed him, and he looked at me as if asking confirmation of his opinions.
"But the young ladies?" I inquired, looking at Leith. "Do you expect them to go down on to that path?"
"I don't expect the young ladies to do anything against their inclinations," he answered blandly. "They have come with the expedition through no urging from me. Regarding the ledge, there is absolutely no danger, and it is the only path by which we can reach the interior of the island. Soma, go over the rim and show them."
Edith and Barbara Herndon, with their father, moved up closer to the edge as the grinning Kanaka stepped forward to obey Leith's order. He walked quickly to the polished porphyry slab, moved cautiously to the extreme rim, then, turning his back on the crater, he dropped upon his hands and knees and lowered himself down till only his grinning face appeared above the top.
We crept closer and watched him walk along the ledge toward the cavern, apparently unaffected by thoughts of the death which a slip of his foot would bring upon him. Returning to the spot beneath the polished slipping-off place he put his muscular hands into two clefts in the slab above and drew himself up on to the solid earth.
"No danger," he cried. "All boys go over here before they could call themselves men. That long, long time ago."
The Professor grabbed his notebook as he heard the explanation, and he immediately proceeded to deluge the Kanaka with questions.
"What was that?" he squeaked. "You say all the boys had to climb over there?"
"That's so," grinned Soma. "This place make 'em test. Young boy go over this quick he make plenty good fighting man. Feller go over slow he no good."
The Professor's pencil moved quicker than the pen of a court stenographer. The Kanaka's remark had brought him much copy, and the dangers of the path were forgotten as he jotted down the information.
"And they went over here?" he cried, his eyes wide open as he gazed at the edge of the crater.
"Right over here," grinned Soma. "See rock mighty slippery here. All boys' hands and feet do that. Polish it mighty fine."
"But surely this test is not carried on at the present time?" cried the scientist. "When was this wonderful custom in force?"
"About the time that Christopher Columbus was paddling to America," replied Leith. "There are no natives on the Isle of Tears now. Soma is speaking of a time when these islands were inhabited."
The Professor gurgled like a drowning mule. "This is a most interesting morsel of information," he murmured. "Hand me my camera, Barbara; I wish to take a snapshot of the place."
The delay irritated Leith, but he kept his temper in check while the Professor fussed and focussed to get a good view of the spot.
"The old fool should be in a padded cell," growled Holman. "He's so busy digesting that tale that he's not thinking of the dangers of this path. I'm going to speak to him aside."
"I hope you have better luck than I had," I whispered. "I bullied him as we were climbing the slope, and I believe he complained of me to Leith. He sees a mental picture of himself with bay leaves on his brow, and he wouldn't consider the nerves of twenty daughters."
I was right in my prophecy. When Holman approached the old maniac he ruffled up like an angry porcupine, and he screeched out his opinion concerning people who would not mind their own business.
"You're the second person who has kindly informed me what I should do," he exclaimed. "And who are you, sir? You have no standing with this expedition! This is a scientific exploration party, but it seems to me that a number of busy-bodies have pushed their way into it. I shall ask Mr. Leith if he cannot stop this interference!"
Leith listened till the Professor had finished speaking, then he turned savagely upon Holman. "I've given you one chance," he roared, "and you don't seem to profit by it. Now I'm not going to speak again! If I have to tell you to keep your finger out of this pie on another occasion, you'll go back to the yacht, and you'll go back without provisions, do you understand?"
The youngster was not lacking in courage, and he stood up boldly as the bully screamed out his threats.
"I won't go back," he said quietly. "At least I won't go back alone."
Leith's big fingers crooked ominously as he glared at Holman, but Edith Herndon prevented the conflict that was imminent.
"Mr. Holman is only concerned about our safety," she cried, stepping in front of the youngster. "He thinks that the path is dangerous for women, and it is on that account he protests."
Leith recovered his temper with an effort. "It is not dangerous," he drawled. "We will put a strong rope under the arms of each so that it will be impossible for an accident to happen. Soma will go first with one of the other boys, and they will guide every one into the opening. Once through there the path leads into a valley in the centre of the island, and the road is perfectly safe."
Edith Herndon looked at her sister as Soma unwound the strong manilla rope which he had carried from the yacht, and they exchanged glances that showed clearly the terror in which they viewed the journey across the ledge.
Leith frowned as he glanced toward the pit. The colours were fading from the brilliant sides as the sun sank lower, and the inky clouds that seemed to heave far down in its mysterious depths fought their way slowly upward as the invading sunbeams were driven out. It became more terrifying as each moment passed.
Leith seemed to recognize this, and he turned upon the Professor. "If we don't get down in half an hour we will have to postpone it till the morning," he exclaimed. "I didn't look for a hitch like this. I tell you that there is not the slightest danger, and the young ladies will be just as safe upon that ledge as they are up here."
The Professor turned to the two girls as he closed his camera. The mad hunger for notoriety evidently blinded him to the dangers which would have been perceptible at any other time, and Holman's remarks had not improved his temper.
"Come, come, Edith!" he entreated. "We must get along. You hear what Mr. Leith says? There is no danger. A rope will be put around your waist, and an accident will be impossible."
The younger girl took a glance at the terrifying abyss and shrank back to Edith's side.
"Wait till the morning," she whispered.
"What is that?" asked the Professor.
"Barbara wants you to wait till the morning," replied Edith. "I think it will be better. This light doesn't make the place look attractive."
Leith moved his big hands in a manner that showed he was willing to wait till the following day, and Barbara Herndon gave a little gasp of relief. Soma coiled the rope that he had laid out in expectation of an immediate descent, and the whole party moved back about thirty yards from the obstacle in our path. As I analyzed my own feelings, on turning my back upon the spot, I felt that Barbara Herndon was not alone in desiring to make the trip when the wholesome sunbeams were pouring into the shadowy cauldron.
