The Day of Resis

by Lillian Frances Mentor

The torch was lit and Harry, taking one of the spears, attempted to chip the wall with this, but one stone was as hard as the other, seemingly, and the spearhead would make no impression.

“We will have to find some other means than this,” said Harry. And stooping, he looked over the floor of the cave, in hopes of finding something which would cut the hard stone. But he was not successful, so the notching was given up.

The corridor still stretched out straight ahead of them, and they hurried along as fast as their tired limbs would allow their doing.

“What time is it, Mr. Bruce?” asked Harry.

“Why, it is nine o’clock,” answered Mr. Bruce; “and to tell the truth I feel as though it were twelve. A little rest would not go amiss.”

“But I do not think it advisable to sleep here,” said Mr. Graham, “we are not far enough away from that bloodthirsty mob.”

“No,” said Mr. Bruce, “we will hurry on for a while yet, and if no side aisle leads off into which we can hide for a few hours, we will lie down in this, leaving watchers.”

For another hour they trudged along, until thoroughly exhausted and ready to drop, they decided upon taking a short rest. The first watch fell to Harry, and he took his stand against the wall, being afraid that if he sat down he would go to sleep. The others stretched themselves out upon the hard floor of the corridor, and in a moment were fast asleep. Harry put out the torch for fear of its attracting attention to them, should any of the natives happen in the corridor.

The moments passed on leaden wings; his eyes grew heavy and he began pacing the corridor to keep awake; his legs were too weary to longer support his body and he squatted down upon the floor with his back resting against the side wall. The scenes of the day passed through his mind in a dreamy sort of way. In a short time he caught himself dozing; then tired nature asserted itself and his eyes closed and refused to open again; his head dropped to one side and he slept. How long he had slept he did not know, but he was awakened by a humming noise, which seemed far away and yet very close. Starting up and opening his eyes he looked far up the corridor in the direction in which they were traveling and there he saw a procession of torches coming toward him. He hastily awakened his companions and telling them what was up they held a consultation.

It seemed folly to longer go ahead, for these bodies of natives might be met continually and to have to chase them every few hours would be nonsense. Harry had walked up the corridor a ways, while the others were talking, feeling his way by the wall when his hand, which went out to touch this wall failed to come in contact with it; he tried again with the same result and then moved his body in that direction thinking that he might have wandered away from the wall. But there was no wall at this point and after moving in this direction for a short distance, he struck a match; he could not see very closely, but he understood that he was in a side corridor or room of some kind. He at once called to his companions and they having joined him, they lit a torch; the natives still being a great distance up the corridor. This room was considerably larger than the one in which they had been imprisoned and was evidently a living chamber; for in one corner was a raised slab, on which were dead coals and some fish offal. The room had evidently been used very recently from the looks of the fish remains.