Deeper and Darker
In the course of my thirty-eight years, I have made more than one hair-raising expedition. I have clung to the slippery sides of precipices; I have rolled in a ship at sea, with the decks all awash beneath the mountainous waves; I have been lost in the burning desert and all but blistered to death; I have roamed glacial barrens, and remote caves, and serpent-infested jungles. But never have I been stricken with such fear, never have I suffered such nightmare agonies as during that journey at the end of a wire, among the clattering groups of pit-dwellers.
So bewildered was I, so frightened, and at the same time so angered, that for a long while I kept little track of where we went. I only knew that we were making our way down, down, down, among a multitude of galleries that curved, and curved again, and branched and inter-branched with baffling intricacy—galleries illuminated with a greenish-yellow glow by the multitudes of orbs placed at regular intervals along the walls and ceiling. It seemed that we travelled for miles, while my captors, on their queer wheeled machines, rolled ahead of me and behind, but never came within yards of personal contact; and minute by minute the wire cut more deeply into my skin, checking the circulation and making it hard for me to hold back a cry of pain.
After a time, however, I began to take closer note of my surroundings. I remember, for example, catching a glimpse of a huge, rapidly revolving wheel, larger than a barn-door, from which a strong draft of cool air was blowing; I saw through a half-closed door into a hall filled with machines as high as a five-story building; I was dazzled by flashes of sun-brilliant lights, and once or twice my ears were smitten with thunderblasts; I crossed a bridge over a subterranean torrent, in which I could see half-submerged, illuminated vessels; I passed walls lined with little round lighted windows, within which I could distinguish shadowy figures moving; I shuffled along corridors where long pipes, coils, and strands of wire ran along the walls for great distances.
Absorbed in these sights, I had regained something of my composure before there occurred an event which, for a time, unnerved me completely. Coming to the end of a narrow passageway, we found ourselves facing a thoroughfare which, to my unaccustomed eyes, seemed like a parade-ground of demons. Along a gallery fifty or sixty yards across, a multitude of little cars were shooting back and forth with prodigious rapidity. None of them were any larger than the tiny coaster-like machines of my captors, but all were moving with such speed that it was difficult, and at times impossible, to follow their movements. Worst of all, they seemed to pursue no regular route, but looped and curved at all crazy angles, and so many were the near-collisions that it made me dizzy merely to look at the vehicles.
Across this mad avenue my captors set forth with the utmost nonchalance, weaving their way in and out as unconcernedly as though not in danger of being knocked to eternity. And I, though I strained back at my wire till the blood came, was forced to follow. Imagine my terror! The diabolical little machines, like bolts out of a cannon, came racing toward me from all sides, and none would relax its speed as it approached! I felt one of them flitting just to my rear with a rush of wind; another almost scraped the tips of my shoes as it darted in front of me; a third would certainly have ended my days on earth had it not swerved by a fraction of an inch just as it was about to destroy me. Little wonder that, by the time I had reached the further side, I was near to nervous prostration!
I was just heaving a sigh of relief at my deliverance, when there came a loud crash from behind me; and, glancing back, I saw two of the little cars jumbled together in a distorted heap, their drivers sprawled with outstretched limbs along the cavern floor. One of them, lying motionless in a pool of blood, was evidently already beyond help; the other was twisting and groaning miserably. But the other riders were shooting back and forth with the same reckless haste as ever, and no one seemed to pay the unfortunates any attention.
Amid all my trials, I had one cause to be thankful: we were to cross no other driveway that day! Fifteen minutes later, we had reached our destination; we emerged into a long, straight cavern, with walls several hundred feet apart and a vaulted ceiling fifty yards high; and one of my captors, flinging open a little door at one side, motioned me to enter.
Not being allured by the vague, indistinctly lighted interior, I stood still and made no attempt to obey—at which my master went off into a fit. A reddish tinge transformed the normal chalky white of his face; his black-gloved hands shook wrathfully and he uttered a howl of shrieking command.
Although I did not understand the words, I could guess their meaning; however, I still held my ground, disobedient and determined.
At this, my tormentor, growing more angry still, consulted briefly with one of his fellows; then, with a resolute motion, he seized a long two-pronged pole from the cavern wall and thrust this weapon forward so as to catch me between the prongs.
Thus held, I was helpless; and though I howled my resentment, I was shoved through the door like a captive beast. The next moment, I heard the heavy hinges rattling to a close, and with a bang like thunder, the door slammed in my face. At last I was in prison!
By the pale greenish-yellow light, I found myself in a room about twenty-five feet square, with only one small window, and with a low ceiling that curved down almost to meet the floor. One or two stone benches and tables, but no chairs, were scattered about this compartment; while, at the further end, half a dozen white-faced and black-robed creatures were cowering miserably.
But when, with the friendliest of intentions, I approached these fellow-sufferers, they cringed and withdrew into the remotest corner, trembling, and uttered sharp, menacing exclamations of fear. Why were they so afraid of me? Was it that they had never seen a man of my race?
Being denied their company, I deposited myself on a stone bench across the room from them, and, with my head buried in my hands, began drearily reviewing my predicament. Who were these chalk-faced people? How did they manage to live here beneath the earth? Why had no one ever heard of them before? What did they intend to do with me? What had happened to Clay? Was he alive or dead? These questions, and a thousand more, flitted through my mind in a mad, almost delirious succession, while, at the same time, I became increasingly aware of a great fatigue, and increasingly conscious of being hungry and thirsty.
My head was aching and my tongue was growing dry within my mouth by the time the prison door opened once more and one of the chalk-faces entered and deposited a bowl of water and some marble-sized purple capsules on a table a few yards from me.
To my surprise, my cell-mates all at once made a dash, as if to seize these articles, but withdrew in a panic when I stepped forth, and I was left in undisputed possession of the prizes.
At one gulp, I consumed the water; then, feeling somewhat better, I took up the purple capsules and examined them with interest. As I did so, a grim suspicion came into my mind. I do not know what it was that gave me this idea—perhaps the vivid color of the pellets; it flashed over me that these were poison potions, intended as an easy means of disposing of me. Probably it was from this fate that my cell-mates, unfriendly though they seemed, had wished to save me in rushing for the capsules.
What was more natural therefore than that, horrified by my suspicions, I should seize the capsules and dash them along the floor? But what was more astonishing than the actions of my cell-mates, who, with wild whoops and cries, leapt after these scattered purple globules? I noticed how they all showed an almost ravenous greed, each fighting to be first; I also noticed how, as if stricken blind, they began to grope strangely as they drew near the objects, feeling with clumsy hands across the floor and apparently finally locating them by touch alone.
Surely, it was not the dimness of the light that caused this queer conduct, for they had seen the capsules plainly enough at a distance!
It was at this point that I made my first great discovery about the chalk-faces. They were unable to see things clearly close at hand! Doubtless, their long residence underground had affected their vision.
It was at this point, also, that I made my second great discovery. The purple pellets were good to eat! That was manifest, for my cell-mates, having seized them, thrust them eagerly into their toothless mouths and smacked their lips in relish.
Cursing my reckless folly in throwing the capsules away, I made a rush toward my cell-mates, and, by grasping desperately, managed to seize the last of the globules barely in time to save it from the chalk-faces. And then tentatively I put it into my mouth, ready to spit it out at any indication of poison. But I might have spared my fears. It had a delicious nutty flavor, and was evidently concentrated food of a high quality, for I felt a new surge of strength in my veins the moment I had consumed it.
It was well that I had taken even this small amount of nourishment; I was to need all my spare energy in the dread ordeal that lay ahead.