The Day of Resis

by Lillian Frances Mentor

“Hurry, pull yourselves together and help me, and we may escape. Who has the spear? Bring it here.”

Harry, who had been holding on to the spear, using it for support, staggered towards Mr. Bruce, and handed it to him mechanically.

“Brace up there, men,” he again called out, and they shuffled towards him almost falling. “Now, get your fingers into that crack, and lift, lift for your lives, for it is our only chance. I will work the spear under and hold all you can get. Now.”

The men seemed to realize that there was a chance to escape, no matter how faint a one, so making a despairing effort to overcome the suffocation, which was parching their throats and bursting their heads, placed their fingers in the cracks, and lifted. They strained every nerve, stretched every muscle, and look, it was raising. Yes, the huge stone was moving; now it was an inch higher, and now two inches higher, and then there was a space of a foot under the door, but the wider became the space the more smoke poured in, and the men were almost ready to drop the fearful weight and fall over unconscious. Mr. Bruce realizing this, broke the handle of the spear, and placed this under the stone just as the men fell exhausted.

This act of his, if delayed one second longer, would have cost them their lives, for he had barely gotten it under the huge stone when the men dropped. The solid straight piece of bone held the stone, however, but would he have strength to pull the three men through the opening; and would there not be a body of their would-be murderers on the opposite side to fight him back? He had no time to spend in conjectures, however, so catching Harry by the feet he pulled him to the hole; he rolled him through and then Mr. Graham, but when it came to Onrai, he had to roll the man over and over, his body being too heavy to move in any other way. And he was fast giving out himself, but he must not do so before he got him and his friends on the other side of the hole. Getting Onrai to the opening and pushing him through, and then crawling through himself, he looked about him for the generator of this fearful smoke. Groping his way about, he stumbled over a large stone brazier in which was a powdered substance, and it was this which was smoldering and making a dense smoke. Taking his water-skin from his back, he quickly poured its contents over the smoldering coals and extinguished them. He was nearly fainting and he felt that he must soon give up; his eyes were nearly blinded, he was choking and his head was bursting; he was fast losing his senses, but he staggered about the room, and finally found an open archway. Through this he plunged, falling to the floor, but the air was pure here and a cooling breeze was blowing through the apartment, and it was this draught probably, which had forced the smoke through the crack. Mr. Bruce lay still for a moment in the refreshing air, but realizing that his three friends were still in the stifling smoke and unable to help themselves, he again picked himself up, and by rolling them over and over succeeded in getting them all in the outer chamber or corridor.

But where were the natives? Mr. Bruce had not seen or heard them since leaving the death-trap, and he could not account for their absence. But he felt very thankful for their not having interfered with him, for if they had it would have been all over with him and his friends. He had his companions in the pure air now, and unstrapping the water-bag from Harry’s back, he bathed their faces and poured some down each parched throat. He worked hard with them, and at last brought them all around; but they were not able to do much walking for a while, so while they were recruiting, Mr. Bruce took the torch and reconnoitered. They seemed to be in another corridor, somewhat wider than the other, but about the same height.

Mr. Bruce, after following this for some distance, returned to his companions and made his report.

“What had we better do?” asked Mr. Graham. “Turn back or go on?”

“I say, go on,” said Mr. Bruce, “but if you think the risk is too great and wish to return, we will do so; what do you say, Onrai?”

“I know not what to say,” said Onrai, “but if you would like to proceed, I am willing. I am afraid, though, I should be nothing but a hindrance to you.”