So they travelled—and then depression overtook them as their journey seemed endless and they got no nearer to their goal. Even Jez-Riah herself seemed to lose hope, and with tears in her eyes she would say pathetically “O Ar-lane, my senses seem dimmed—the way is dark. Surely we must come there soon!”
The monotony of the way drove the white men nearly mad. The monotony of the food sickened them. They felt half dazed; they forgot the reason of their march; they forgot, even, what the goal was toward which they were going. They knew only that some power within them urged them to go on and on and always on.
At last Jez-Riah’s eyes grew bright and her step alert. “Don’t speak,” she urged, “don’t speak!” So they went, until all the passages merged into one long tunnel—darker than the others through which they had come. The natural light shed from the earth itself, grew still more feeble, and they found it difficult to walk for fear of hidden pitfalls. Suddenly the passage ended and Jez-Riah gave a glad cry. “Behold, O Men of the Sun, this is the entrance to the Tomb of Korah.”
“Are you sure?” asked Alan.
“Quite, O Ar-lane. The paths we have been traversing were made by our forefathers long æons ago. After they had fastened Korah and all that appertained to him fast within the bowels of the earth, they had to fight their way through to make a place of habitation. They cut paths as they marched along, and when they found the Fire—there they made their home. I knew that when all paths merged into one, the way was near to Korah’s tomb.”
The place in which they found themselves was very disappointing. Their way just ended—it did not widen out at all, and the end was piled with stones and earth that had fallen through the ages. Their quest was over at last, and they took their first untroubled rest. They slept long and quietly, and it was Jez-Riah who awakened them and placed before them the food they were so heartily sick of. “Nay, eat,” she commanded, “your strength is needed more than before,” and feeling the truth of her words, they ate until they were satisfied and felt all the better for the food.
“The earth has fallen,” said Jez-Riah. “If we are to find the entrance to the tomb we must clear away all that rubble.”
Feverishly they set to work tearing their hands to pieces on the jagged stones until the passage behind them was nearly closed with the mass of rock and earth that they had displaced. Twice they slept, and then success came to them, for a solid slab of rock appeared in the wall—a rock that had been made smooth and upon which were carven hieroglyphics.
“I cannot read it,” said Jez-Riah, but Alan was already translating, for it was the Hebrew he knew, and not the corruption that had come down through the ages to the purple people.
“Read it aloud,” said Desmond, and Alan spoke the words of the inscription reverently.