In the dim light I darted on to the rim of the basin just in time to see the first savage fall to Kahikatea’s rifle. Then, as they crowded in with wild yells that echoed strangely in the great cavern, I saw my giant friend, who now stood before the opening, throw his rifle aside and set to work with the sword. The second Maori that entered with axe upraised had his head cut clean off by the first sweeping back stroke: it rolled on the ground at Kahikatea’s feet. The third was run through the body, and the fourth I picked off to give Kahikatea a chance to settle down to it. Then it grew grim as death, for they crowded in two and three at a time; but Tiki had now got to work also, and, between the three of us, we kept them at bay until there was a ghastly pile before Kahikatea. But they crowded in, urged on from behind, and Kahikatea was beginning to let out with his left hand, in addition to doing fiercely with his right. It was getting serious now, for I foresaw that if anyone got past him into the shadows he would be struck down from behind. I shouted as much to him, and he answered as his sword swished through the air: “All right! as soon as one gets past I’ll come up.”
In less than half a minute, at a moment when Tiki and I both killed the same man, two of them did get past, and Kahikatea, true to his word, drew back and ascended the rock. I had reserved my revolver for this, and until he was out of their reach, four out of six Maoris failed to follow him. Then they flocked in over the fallen bodies, and I began to fear that if once they found the way up the wall and gained a footing, we should have to beat a retreat. Even now I heard them climbing the rock, but Kahikatea was on the ledge with his sword, and the foremost fell with a thud on to the floor below. Tiki and I still directed our attention to the opening, as those already inside were mostly in the darkness. Presently I heard sounds as of men climbing on their fellows’ backs to mount the wall near me, and realised that very soon it would be a hand to hand fight in the dark on narrow and slippery places.
While destroying several of these formations by mere guess work, I was suddenly startled by a light on the other side of the lake. I turned my head and saw Hinauri walking round the margin bearing a torch in each hand. From time to time I glanced at her and wondered greatly what she was about to do. Presently I saw her leave one torch on the ledge below and hurriedly ascend the rocks of the buttress, beyond the abyss, which led up to the point high on the cavern wall where the tapering spar reached towards the overhanging crags. She had now nearly gained the narrow standing place from which I had seen Ngaraki leap out to catch the sprit of the spar. Surely she was not going to take that awful leap! In a flash I saw her purpose and cursed myself that I had not forestalled her. I stood on the rim of the basin, and with a hoarse cry called to her, but she did not heed. She had placed her remaining torch upright in a crevice of the rock, and now stood erect in the narrow niche high up on the cavern wall—a frail, white figure outlined against the darkness by the light of the torch. I held my breath, rooted to the spot. There came the quick panting of the Maoris below as they struggled to gain the level on which we stood; there came the steady swish of Kahikatea’s sword, and I felt that I should be doing my part in that grim defence; there came, too, a cry of “Ngha!” outside the opening, and I knew that Ngaraki the Terrible was splitting skulls outside. But all these things seemed like the points of an instantaneous dream, the one reality being that the woman I loved was about to take that daring leap above the abyss.
While I watched she crouched for the spring, and my heart stood still. I recalled the prophecy engraven on the golden circlet, and a choking horror entered my soul as she sprang out above the abysmal gulf. My head grew dizzy and my sight blurred. For the moment I reeled and clutched at the air, but steadied myself and looked again. The long spar, a dark heavy mass, was moving slowly downwards through space. The rock beneath my feet trembled as, with a mighty roar, the sluice gates were opened, and the water, now released by the action of the lever, gushed through the opening in the basin below. At that moment, and while the dim daylight from the opening served, I glanced round me at a sharp cry of “Wanaki!” and saw the last of my faithful Tiki. A Maori had just gained the ledge. His club was descending on my head when Tiki, who must have sprung through the air to do it, jerked him back by the neck. The club whizzed down past my face, and both of them, friend and foe, fell back into the sweeping torrent as the daylight from the opening was flooded out. Tiki the Maori had given his life for me, but his end was peace, with his hand on his enemy’s throat.
There was wild confusion in the darkness then. From the savages came gurgling cries of dismay as they were carried away by the sudden flood. But the swift happenings of that moment, when the rushing water gave us the victory, came to me through the back of my head, for my eyes were again fixed on the moving spar, whose track through space was lighted by the two torches, one above and the other below. The white form clinging to the end of the sprit swept down out of the intervening gloom into the light of the torch left burning on the margin of the abyss. Quick feet found the level rock, and Hinauri sprang aside. The great round stone rolled into its groove above the basin’s rim with more than its wonted impetus, for the end of the spar in its unchecked downward career ground violently against the rock where Hinauri stood. Sparks flew from that end as the round stone, looming near me against the light, rose on the outer lip of the groove and remained in momentary balance. But the long arm of the lever snapped at its thinnest part. The stone hesitated no longer. It rolled from its poise and overbalanced. Then those three colossal fragments—the two parts of the broken spar and the great round stone—fell down, down into the darkness, while the white figure beyond the abyss bent over the brink and listened. A dull, crashing sound of thunder came up from the depths and reverberated through the whole gloomy place, echoing from the stupendous crags overhead and rolling away into the vast reaches of the cavern. The false image of the woman, with the heavy stone which oppressed it, had at last been hurled down, and now lay among the ruins of old-world things on the granite floor of the earth.
CHAPTER XXV.
THE SERVANT OF THE BROTHERHOOD OF HUO.
Hinauri took up her torch and came round the lake towards us, but Kahikatea met her half-way, his dripping sword still in his hand. I heard the sword clink as he cast it on the rocks—he had no further use for it as they stood facing each other in the torchlight. At this moment my attention was diverted by something brushing against my sleeve. I put out my hand and clutched what seemed to be a stick pointed towards the spot where the two stood. A quick horror shot through me, for at the instant I touched it I heard a peculiar hiss that I knew only too well. It was the reed tube of the negro wizard. But I had spoilt his aim, and before he knew what had happened I had thrust him backwards and wrenched the tube from his hand as he fell into the water, which had now risen above the aperture and was rapidly finding its level. My first impulse was to fling the accursed weapon of the Poisoner into the abyss; my second to keep it and use it against him, for I remembered how the darts had been arranged around the one I had taken from him at our first encounter. But, in case of accidents, Hinauri must be placed out of danger. With all my lungs I roared across the lake.
“Kahikatea! for God’s sake, and for her sake, get out of this infernal place as soon as you can.”
“Is it urgent?” he called back.
“Yes,” I yelled excitedly, “do as I say; go up the rope, quick!”