The Secret of the Earth

by Charles Willing Beale

The farther end of this extraordinary promenade was blocked by a mass of rock, but upon examination I found a narrow alley which led to the rear, and communicated with a vast internal passage, dimly illuminated with an amber light coming from above, and falling about the walls in strange scintillations of green, purple, blue, crimson and gold. I stood for a moment staring in surprise, and then, overcome with curiosity, walked into the interior. The corridor in which I found myself was at a right angle to the esplanade, and ran directly into the mountain. It was of vast height, although the peculiar configuration prevented my gaining any accurate knowledge of its altitude, as the light filtered through semi-transparent masses above, whose distance from the floor was irregular and difficult to estimate.

The gloom of twilight reigned about me, but the coloring was of a splendor indescribable. Above, below, around were these spark-like points of illumination, shifting and changing like the twinkling of stars, or the flash of precious stones, and of every conceivable color and tone. I wandered on in stupid amazement, wondering whither it would lead. The passage seemed interminable, and of ever increasing splendor. The illumination from above would change from amber to erubescence, and then it would fall upon my path in sudden rifts of green or gold, and then return to its original amber tint again.

At last I came to what was undoubtedly an indication of life, and of human life, too, for here at the end of the corridor was a door. Not a common door, but a great cumbersome stone portal, which was made to swing in a socket at the end. I stopped before this emblem of humanity in awe. What was beyond it? I listened, but no sound came from within. A massive chain of gold was hung from the point where with us a lock or latch is affixed, and I could not doubt that it was intended as a handle to pull upon. My curiosity was wrought to the highest pitch, and I longed to grasp that chain and swing open the aperture. Twice my hand was upon it, and twice I drew it away in terror; but at last, trembling with excitement, and overcome with an unholy desire to solve the mystery within, I seized it and pulled with all my might. The door swung open, and I stood face to face with an extraordinary sight.

An apartment of magnificent proportions was before me. In size I should say that it approximated a cube of a hundred feet. It was lighted from above through a ceiling of transparent mosaics, arranged in superb designs, apparently emblematic of historical events. The walls had been carved out of the solid rock in pictorial cameos. These pictures surrounded the room. They were perfect in delineation, and of unparalleled workmanship. The floor was laid in rich mosaics, also arranged in pictorial form, and the light from above was just strong enough to add a mystery to the scene. Never had I dreamed of anything so wonderful. In all this vast apartment, above, below, and upon every hand, there was such lavish decoration that the eye was bewildered; it was impossible to take it in.

As I stood there, marveling, gazing, I seemed to be the only living creature in this great silent hall, and by degrees, as I gained courage, I wandered on toward the center of the floor, trying to take in and understand the marvelous scene, but as I have said, it was impossible to comprehend it at a glance, or even to perceive the details of more than a small part of what actually existed.

I had reached a point about halfway across the floor, my head strained at every angle in reviewing the marvels around me, when suddenly I was startled by a sight that made my heart give one great leap. Upon a slightly raised dais, surrounding the room, I had observed not less than a hundred richly decorated chairs. These were carved, gilded, bejeweled and caparisoned in a manner that made it difficult to tell exactly what they were, but I had decided that they were seats, and intended to examine them a little later. Imagine, therefore, my horror to discover that upon each chair sat a human being, so strange, so mysterious, and of so awful an aspect, with gilded and painted faces, that I had not recognized them before. Indeed these creatures were so richly robed, and in that respect so closely resembled their surroundings that it was only when one of them moved that I discovered my mistake. I had been watched then from the moment of entering the room. There was nothing to do but apologize for my intrusion; explain my errand, and retreat as gracefully as possible.

I prostrated myself before this grave assembly; told how I was in search of aid for my brother, who was perishing from thirst on the plain. I asked if they would appoint a delegation to assist me in carrying water and finding him. I said that he was exhausted with the heat, and that I feared he would perish if not relieved immediately. Of course all this I might as well have said in Choctaw; but what else could I do? Yes, there was one other thing which I did. I pointed to the barrel of water on my back, made a motion as if drinking, and then pointed out at the plain, signifying that another was there who needed their aid. But these strange, gaunt men neither smiled nor answered me. They sat silently looking on with their dark, wonderful eyes, and did not even so much as glance at one another. Had I been one of their own number I would, apparently, have created as much surprise. Filled with chagrin and horror at the extraordinary situation in which I found myself, I began slowly to retreat, keeping my eyes fixed upon these unearthly beings, and their environment. Indeed their recognition had been so sudden and unexpected that I half looked for other developments in what had appeared fixtures of the apartment. In doing this I observed that the spaces between the pictorial cameos on the walls were filled from floor to ceiling with what appeared to be stacks of metallic tablets. It seemed possible that the place was a vast library, or depository of historic records, some of the scenes of which were depicted upon the walls. Could it be that these men composed a guard for their preservation?

Slowly I retreated toward the door by which I had entered, stepping backward, and never relaxing my eyes from a close and careful scrutiny of the scene. Glancing at the farther end of the room, I was suddenly electrified by one of the mural decorations I had not before observed. It was a representation of a man and woman being driven through a great natural gateway; but that was not all, for the portal through which they were passing was an accurate delineation of Mount Horror and Mount Gurthrie.

For a moment I stopped, and then overcome with the significance of the picture and the horrible mystery of my surroundings, turned, and fled toward the door. Seizing the chain which hung within I flung it open and rushed out; but, alas, I had mistaken the entrance. There were other doors, and I had taken the wrong one.

I was in a dark, narrow passage, with the door behind me closed, and as I soon discovered with no chain to reopen it, nor would it yield to my pressure. With my hand against the wall I groped forward, feeling carefully with my feet at the same time. The passage was not straight, and as it turned from side to side I realized that I was wandering through a crevice in the earth.