The valley of Arcana

by Arthur Preston Hankins

Abreast the mountain they came upon rugged country, where the river plunged down incessantly in a hundred falls and cataracts. And here, as they crossed the ridge, Andy found his cave and made lengthy apology to the Valley of Arcana for doubting its claims to romance.

It was in the ridge of rocks that extended at right angles to the river on both sides. If they made a habitation of the cave there would be constantly in their ears the roar of the waterfall that found its way through the ridge and plunged down about thirty feet to the lower level. Centuries of the rushing water had worn down the ridge, and the stream leaped through a narrows, with the piled-up boulders towering above it on either side. On the side where the cave was located grew a clump of sucker redwoods, which had sprung up from a mother stump about six feet in diameter. Examination of the perdurable stump showed that the original tree had been felled with axes. Many years had elapsed since its fall, for the redwood is of tremendously slow growth, and the tall, slim suckers that surrounded the stump were a foot in diameter. Andy decided that he could cut down two of them and cause them to fall side by side directly across the chasm. This would give them a bridge from one rocky eminence to the other, and it would hang twenty feet or more above the waterfall.

Though all evidences of a beaten trail to the cave had disappeared, it was an easy matter to trace the upward progress of the one that had existed in the days of the lost tribe. Boulders of large size evidently had been rolled away from the most logical route. They wound their way in and out among the towering rocks to the mouth of the cave, probably seventy feet above the narrows. From below they had seen its gaping mouth, but were fearful that it would prove a shallow disappointment—a mere niche in the rocky hillside. But it turned out to be a substantial, denlike tunnel, forty feet or more in length.

Men had not fashioned it, but within they had moved huge boulders to one side or the other to make more room in the middle. Irregular stones had covered the floor, too, and smaller ones had been thrown into the crevices, with dirt piled on top, to level it off. The width and height were probably fifteen feet.

They found more skeletons, more pottery, more implements of war and the chase, and crude tools of stone and bone. The boulders inside were decorated, designs and hieroglyphics having been hacked below the surface. Some sort of red paint of a decidedly perdurable quality had been worked into the gouged lines. Once again Charmian saw an unhappy lady ridding herself of the frog that she had swallowed. But in this instance she did not suffer alone. If misery loves company, she must have been in an amiable mood, despite her throes. For no less than a dozen of her unfortunate sisters were engaged in a like performance on boulders and stony walls.

“I’ve got it, Charmian,” Andy cried with the enthusiasm of an amateur ethnographer. “I know now what it means. The northern tribes had woman doctors, and they treated their patients by sucking the flesh. They were supposed to suck out the evil spirit that was tormenting them, and this evil spirit often took the form of a snake or a lizard or a frog. In order to make good, a doctress is said to have sometimes swallowed a live frog before beginning treatment; and when she threw it up the patient and his relatives were convinced that the faker had done her best. This was probably the cave of the doctresses. Say—doesn’t it stand to reason?”

“How pleasant!” laughed Charmian. “I see now how the nursery term ‘quack frog’ had its birth. Let’s remove the wizards’ remains and take possession of the cave. Can we ever make it cheerful after what you’ve told me? I christen it the Cave of Hypocritical Frogs. That’s rather long and confusing, but so the Indians might have called it had there been unbelievers. We could live in this cave indefinitely, Andy. It will be dry and warm, don’t you think? I hope no bear has decided to hibernate here throughout the winter.”

Somehow or other both of them were always unconsciously planning for a long stay in the Valley of Arcana. Andy had proposed hunting up a bee tree, the honey from which might be used in preserving grapes and huckleberries. He had planned a bridge over the waterfall, when a mile below they had passed a riffle which offered an easy fording. Now Charmian was looking at the cave in the light of a more or less permanent habitation. She thought of this directly after she had spoken and bit her lip in vexation. Wasn’t Dr. Shonto to hurry right back to them? Two weeks, at the most, and he should be worming his way into the valley, searching the distances for the smoke of their signal fire. She threw off her sudden depression. It was best to be prepared. The fact that they were planning for months to come meant nothing. That was only the part of wisdom. And they had nothing else to do. What if they did leave behind them two weeks hence the results of their trifling labours in the valley? It was only play. Weren’t they like children playing at the game of keeping house?

Andy removed the skeletons, cleaned house, carried their belongings up to the cave, and arranged things for their temporary comfort. Then he went to catch some trout in the swirling pool below the waterfall for the evening meal.

Charmian slept in the cave that night, Andy in the open. They were about and had breakfast early in the morning, and they spent the greater part of the day in carrying flat stones into the cave to be used in building a partition. The inner room was to be the girl’s, while Andy would occupy the space within the mouth of the cave and guard her. They doubted whether there was anything to guard her from, but it seemed the proper thing to do.