So heavily did these thoughts weigh upon Tanar’s mind that he slackened his speed until once again he moved in a slow walk.
“What is the matter?” demanded Jude. “A moment ago you were running and now you are barely crawling along. Do not tell me that you were mistaken and that, after all, we are not approaching the mouth of the corridor.”
“I do not know,” said Tanar. “We may be about to meet a terrible disappointment and if that is true I wish to delay it as long as possible. It would be a terrible thing to have hope crushed within our breasts now.”
“I suppose it would,” said Jude, “but that is precisely what I have been expecting.”
“You, I presume, would derive some satisfaction from disappointment,” said Tanar.
“Yes,” said Jude, “I suppose I would. It is my nature.”
“Then prepare to be unhappy,” cried Tanar, suddenly, “for here indeed is the mouth of the tunnel.”
He had spoken just as he had rounded a turn in the corridor, and when Jude came to his side the latter saw daylight creeping into the corridor through an opening just in front of them—an opening beyond which he saw the foliage of growing things and the blue sky of Pellucidar.
Emerging again to the light of the sun after their long incarceration in the bowels of the earth, the two men were compelled to cover their eyes with their hands, while they slowly accustomed themselves again to the brilliant light of the noonday sun of Pellucidar.
When he was able to uncover his eyes and look about him, Tanar saw that the mouth of the tunnel was high upon the precipitous side of a lofty mountain. Below them wooded ravines ran down to a mighty forest, just beyond which lay the sparkling waters of a great ocean that, curving upward, merged in the haze of the distance.