Like a hunted stag Wilson bounded over the ground, all other thoughts lost in the one mad desire to get away from the creature behind. He never turned to look if the brute was following. He rushed on blindly, madly, the fear that gripped him lending him fictitious strength. He knew nothing, saw nothing, until, utterly exhausted, his trembling limbs refused to carry him farther, and he dropped full length upon the ground.
A long while he lay where he had fallen, too wearied to move, thoroughly disgusted with himself for so allowing fear to overcome him. When at last he arose he was astonished at his surroundings. Although he had no recollection of so doing, he must, in his flight, have emerged from the valley of bones, for he was in a gloomy defile, between towering cliffs.
From which direction he had come he could not tell, but, trusting to luck, he strode forward into the darkness of the defile.
His terror had gone, but it had left him weak and trembling as with an ague. Not a single fungus grew in the gloomy gorge; not even the twilight peculiar to this strange subterranean world relieved its dark obscurity. Yet, despite this absence of light, Wilson felt safer than amid the fungi. If the darkness concealed dangers, it also hid him from the sight of Lurking enemies.
For a little over a mile he strode on between the cliffs, then a bright light ahead warned him that he was approaching the end of the defile.
Redoubling his caution as he advanced, he soon emerged from the gorge into another valley, much smaller than the one he had left, but lit by the same weird growths. At first he hesitated to advance into the light, the memory of his recent fright being still very vivid; but, putting a bold face on the matter, he moved forward at length from the shadow of the cliffs.
As he stepped into the light of the luminous growths, clear and distinct to his ears came the clang of a bell.
He pulled up short in sheer astonishment, and stood listening for a repetition of the sound.
Clang! Once more it rang across the valley. Drawing his sheath-knife, Wilson moved forward, determined to investigate the mystery. What could be the meaning of the sound, he pondered? Had he reached the haunts of the wolf-men, and was the ringing of the bell some signal? Whatever it was he was resolved to get to the bottom of it.
Clang! For the third time the musical note echoed amid the cliffs. The sound seemed to rise from a dense thicket of fungi, which covered the further end of the valley, and towards this the engineer hurried. Amid the towering growths he threaded his way, moving cautiously, having no wish to fall foul of any savages; then, with a low exclamation, he checked himself upon the edge of a clearing.