The Secret of the Earth

by Charles Willing Beale

When we had rested for an hour we got up to go, but Torrence said he had an impression of having seen a nugget of such extraordinary size that he should not like to leave without making an effort to get it, being anxious to carry it home for exhibition. And so we decided to crawl down the cliff once more. We found the nugget, but it was difficult to loosen from the mass, so that we tugged and worked away for quite a while, and were about to give it up, when on straightening my back for a rest I looked out over the plain and saw a sight that startled me.

Far down among the foothills a great living mass was moving toward us. I called to my brother, and we both stood watching it in wonder. We had left our glasses above, but it was not many minutes before we decided that it was a crowd of natives coming our way; possibly they had followed the line of our flight from the city, hoping to overtake us in the mountains, believing that we would halt there. We could form no idea of their number, though evidently it was large.

"It's the rabble of that city!" exclaimed Torrence. "They've been overcome with curiosity, and no doubt think to capture us among these hills. It would be interesting to see what they want, but the vessel will be the safest place for us. There's no telling what superstition and curiosity may lead to. Even without hostile intention, such a crowd might easily overpower and destroy us in a good-humored effort to investigate!"

And so we began at once to climb the cliff again, discarding our nugget in the cause of self preservation. But the ascent was difficult. We missed the trail and wandered off in the wrong direction. Twice we stopped to examine the ground, but the natural pathway by which we had descended was undiscoverable, and there appeared no other route. We beat the bushes, lifting the dense growth right and left, but what had been so plain before, was quite hidden now. There was no time to be lost, for already a murmur arose on the air—a babel of voices from the valley—and it was evident the crowd was scrambling up the first rugged declivities beneath.

"We must get back to the air ship," said Torrence, "even if we have to go up the face of the precipice!"

"It is impossible!" I exclaimed; "we shall risk our lives, and may be dashed to pieces before reaching the top!"

It had all been simple enough before by the other route, and with the aid of the bushes to lower ourselves by, but now the only growth we could find grew on ledges that projected outward, and the roots had so shallow a hold that we dared not risk our weight upon them. Those we tried gave way immediately. The natural pathway was lost, and we could not stop to rediscover it.

"It's that or nothing!" cried Torrence, pulling off his boots and stuffing them into his belt. He then with a literal toe-and-finger scramble commenced a climb of what must have been nearly fifty feet up a perpendicular wall. My head swam, but there was no time to think, and so, following his example, I found myself immediately beneath him, in the same act.

The sound of trampling feet, falling stones, and the roar of voices now approached with sickening rapidity. What if they should reach the air ship first, by some safer and better route known to them only? What if they should destroy it, and leave us lost and alone in this strange world, with our only means of returning gone? The thought of such a possibility was more terrible than that of death; for even if these people were friendly, we could never become one of them. A Chinaman or a Thibetan, or even some undiscovered race in Central Africa would be allied to us by every tie of life beneath a kindred sky, the same sun and moon, the same stars and clouds throughout the ages; but here was another world, compared with which nothing in our own could ever be looked upon as foreign.

But Torrence climbed slowly and steadily, and I kept my grip beneath him, not daring to look below, or speak a word. I was overpowered with the agonizing fear that each step might be his last, or, that reaching a spot where, unable to proceed for want of a foothold, he would be compelled to retreat. And all this time the crowd was gaining on us at a sickening rate. I could now hear the individual voices of those clambering up behind. How near they were I could not think. We dared not touch the shrubs that grew in the crannies about us, for the soil was mellow and they broke away in our hands. There was nothing to do but cling to the rock with tooth and nail, and trust to luck. Suddenly the jangle of bells rang out on the air; why had we not heard them before? Surely it was an ominous sound—possibly the token of victory. But Torrence stuck to the wall and I was close behind him. The vanguard of the crowd had already commenced climbing the cliff below us, and I could almost feel their breath upon my neck.