The Viking's Skull

by John R. Carling

Exploring the darkness with his stick he soon hit upon the chamber-wall at the point where it shot off at right angles to the side of the passage. Passing his hand over its surface, an action accompanied on his part by a feeling of disgust, the masonry being wet and slimy, he discovered what seemed to be a rusty rod extending in a horizontal line along the wall at the height of about six feet from the ground. Puzzled at first to account for its use he came to the conclusion that it had once served to uphold the tapestry with which the interiors of these old Norse tombs were sometimes decorated. The tapestry itself was gone, crumbled to dust, perhaps, with the lapse of time, but the metallic rod remaining would serve to conduct him round the chamber.

He shot a glance through the passage just traversed by him: the darkness swallowed up its perspective, rendering it impossible for the eye to form any judgment as to its length. The entrance seemed close by, a square patch of white light, in which was framed a dark stooping figure, that of Godfrey, vainly endeavouring to keep an eye on his venturesome friend.

Idris turned from the passage, and holding the rod with his left hand, and grasping the stick in his right, he advanced slowly and cautiously along the side of the chamber-wall, over ground that had, perhaps, been untrodden for ten centuries.

After taking six paces he was brought to a halt by the wall inclining again at right angles. He had evidently reached one corner of the stone chamber.

Turning his face in this new direction, and still submitting to the guidance of the supposed tapestry-rod, he continued his progress, exploring the way before him with the stick.

He paused again as his left hand came in contact with a small triangular shred of cloth hanging to the rod. It was apparently a fragment of tapestry. There might be other and larger portions farther on, which, in view of their antiquity, would be of considerable value. Pleased with the idea that he would not come away from the tomb altogether empty-handed he was about to move forward again, when his attention was suddenly diverted to the stick he was carrying.

Without the exercise of any volition on his part it was slowly inclining itself downwards. There was no mistaking the fact, and the knowledge came upon him as a disagreeable surprise. It was as if the serpent-rod had suddenly become instinct with life.

His first impulse was to cast it from him, but thinking that its downward motion might be due to the relaxed state of his muscles, he raised and extended the stick horizontally: he kept it in that position, but it was evident to his sense of feeling that the rod manifested a tendency to assume an oblique direction, just as if a thread were tied to its extremity, and some one below lightly pulling it.

What was the cause of this? Must he dismiss his former scepticism, and believe in the powers of the divining rod? Had this staff of witch-hazel, electrified by the nervous force of his own body, become transformed for the moment into a sort of magnet, capable of being attracted by metals? Was he standing on the site of the Viking's buried treasure? Was the very treasure itself lying upon the clay flooring at his feet? If he struck a match would his eye be caught by the sparkle of silver and gold? No: he would reserve the light, and make what discoveries he could without it.

Relinquishing his hold of the metallic rod he dropped upon his knees, and with his face bent low, put forth his hands.