“No—no; you wait one minute—mine is not far off.” So saying, I walked stealthily downwards, trying to feel for the torch with my feet. I must have walked, I suppose, about three yards, when suddenly the ground seemed to recede from under me. I fell forward—a violent blow on the head—my ears sang, and like a shuttlecock I seemed to be knocked to and fro, from one battledore to another. Yet all this must have been the sensation of a few seconds.
CHAPTER IX.
MY ADVENTURES IN THE NEST-CAVES.
How shall I describe my feelings when returning consciousness first made me fully aware that some terrible accident had happened! I opened my eyes wide, stretched them wider still, but all around was dark—black. I could see nothing: then a racking pain in the head made me attempt to raise my hand, but my arm was so stiff, it refused its office. I tried the other,—it was worse. Alarmed, I essayed to get upon my feet, and that effort told me I was sore and bruised from head to feet; and then I could realize a notion of the phrase, “being beaten to a jelly,” except that my limbs were stiff instead of elastic. What could it all mean?—a dream, a nightmare surely! But no—the aching head and limbs sufficiently disproved that. At the highest pitch of my voice, I shouted for my brother, but echo alone mocked my call; and then the whole truth flashed across my mind—the going through the passages in the rock. I must have fallen into a chasm, and probably had only been saved from an instantaneous death by the soft guano upon which I was lying. My life saved!—but for what? To die a lingering death by starvation; my only hope being, that Martin might find his way back to Prabu and his men, and bring them to my assistance. Yes—I had another hope: by the touch, the scent, I knew that I was lying upon guano. If so, I reasoned the cave must be one frequented by the swallows. It was therefore probable that some of the gatherers might come there; but remembering that the natives entertained a superstitious horror of that cavern,—for I did not doubt that it was the one for which we had been in search, and from which it had been said that no man had ever been known to return,—I sickened with despair.
For a time I lay pondering upon the possibility of some person or persons coming to my help. But then, I murmured, this is childish, foolish, to await here the coming of others, when I should be endeavoring to help myself; and I made another effort to get up. This time I succeeded. Moreover, I was agreeably surprised to find that, although sore, stiff, and bruised, my limbs were really not so bad as they had felt—that is, I could use them. I endeavored to walk forward, but there was some obstruction. Putting my hand forth, I found that it was nothing more formidable than a great heap of guano, drifted into that form, probably, by the wind during the monsoon. Aye, there was another faint hope: through the opening by which the wind that formed that great heap had got in, I might find my way out, and to discover it became my object; but suddenly, a murmuring sound fell upon my ears—it reverberated through the cavern. I threw myself upon the ground to listen—it was plainer. Oh, joy! it was the sound of human voices, and in my delight I was about to shout to the new-comers. But—well, I know not why—I did not; and fortunate, most fortunate, for me that I refrained. In a few minutes a pale light illumined the other end of the cavern, by which I could see that it was larger—three or four times as large—and more than double the height of any I had seen hitherto. My attention, however, became at once fixed upon the men. There were four in all, each carrying a torch, by the light of which I could see without being seen; and the sight convinced me of the wisdom of my caution in not having made known to them my presence, for they were not of Prabu’s party. Then who could they be? A moment’s thought, and I came to the conclusion that they were nest-robbers, and in all probability villagers, who had been the first to discover this new and evidently rich cavern, and that, too, by some hitherto unknown path in the rocks. Then another gleam of light flashed through my mind. In all probability, it had been these men who had disseminated the absurd report, which had made other and legitimate gatherers—i. e., those authorized by the proprietor—shun it; and thus the Pangeran, who was lord of that district, was being plundered of a wealth, of the very possession of which he was ignorant.
“But,” asks the reader, “what mattered it to thee whether they were smugglers or honest men, since Providence had sent them to thy rescue?” Aye, but it mattered much; for if the former, they would scarcely have hesitated an instant about putting to death one who had discovered their secret, and thus it behooved me to be upon my guard. Literally, liberty and death were equally balanced, and it depended upon my prudence or cunning which should turn the scale. Accordingly, I again lay down behind the guano, to work out in my mind what course to take, or at least to watch my opportunity, and keep my eyes and ears open.
Severely was my patience tested. For seven hours, as well as I could guess the time, three of those fellows continued their labors, each mounted upon his bamboo pole; while the other—who, from the tone in which they addressed him, seemed to be a slave or servant—from time to time, as the occasion required, relighted or renewed their torches. My position, however, was fraught with terrible anxiety. What would be the end of it all? There were men who could save my life if they would, but to whom I dared not make my presence known—men, indeed, who would, in all probability, regard my death as necessary to their own safety. My first hope was, that all four would have ascended the poles, and that then, taking advantage of their employment above, and the darkness beneath, I could creep noiselessly along the soft guano to the aperture by which they had entered; but, alas! as I have told you, one was left below, and he kept flitting to and fro, torch in hand.
Well, at length the three descended, and piled their bags upon a great heap of nests, the result of many previous days’ labor. Now came another fright! They would depart, of course, taking with them the rope or ropes by which they had descended. Alas! I had no hope; for although they would doubtlessly return the next day, and the next, it could not alter my position. I had but a choice of deaths—starvation or assassination. Yes—there was one faint chance left. I might, after they had left, discover a hiding-place in the entrance, in which I could await until they had passed the following day into the cavern and commenced their labors, then reach the top by means of their rope. But again, supposing even that I succeeded in gaining the top, I should have to fight my way past the man who, in all probability, would be on guard at the rope. However, be that as it might, I determined to accept the risk, for it was my only chance of escape. But again was the cup dashed from my lips, for, as the men were about quitting the cave, another entered.
“My masters,” he said, addressing the gatherers, “ye may, on your return homewards, take no sign of your late occupation with you. Such are the orders of the Head-man to his children, for the Pangeran’s captain, Prabu, and his crew are even now nest-gathering in the caves, and he loves not those who encroach upon his master’s rights.”
The gatherers were taken by surprise, and gave vent to their indignation in no measured terms; but most extraordinary to me, at least until I saw his face, was the conduct of the servant. At the very name of Prabu he trembled violently, and, begging that they would leave him what water and rice remained of the store they had brought with them in the morning, said he would stay in the cave, until Prabu and his companions had quitted the village. Who could this man be, that he should so tremble at the very name of Prabu? Who, indeed? However, the gatherers must have known full well his reason for avoiding my captain; for, at once complying with his request, they quitted the cavern, and I very speedily shared their knowledge.
A full hour elapsed after their departure ere I ventured to commence operations—not, indeed, till the slave, having partaken of his rice and water, stretched himself at full length upon the ground, to sleep, as he thought, in perfect security. Then, as his face was turned towards me, and the red glare of a fresh-lighted torch fell upon it, I started with surprise, for I recognized at once the Chinese thief To-ki.