There was dead silence for nearly a minute. The water in the lake hissed and boiled, and the torrent of the abyss whiffled down into the darkness; but, beyond that, there was no sound, for the roaring of the escape through the mountain side had ceased, by which I knew that the waters had risen above the aperture, and the current was flowing silently beneath.
Suddenly I heard a forcible exclamation from the rock above me, and, a moment later, the sound of a plunge. Darting from my hiding-place I saw, by the commotion on the surface, where the Maori had gone down into the bubbling depths. With one hand on my sheltering rock to help me back into the shadows when he rose to the surface, I stood on the rim of the lake and watched the unfolding waters. Something strange was taking place beneath there, for the lake was now twisting and whirling as if a gigantic fish was turning round at the bottom.
I was prepared for almost anything now, after witnessing the extraordinary evolutions of the spar, but still I must confess I was staggered at what took place. If anyone could have photographed me then they would no doubt have secured a fine sample of a terror-stricken face, with gaping mouth and staring eyes. The boiling of the water ceased, and there, near the margin of the lake on the side opposite to the gap in the partition, a wave heaved up beneath the movement of something rising to the surface. A dark object reared its head out of the depths. At the same moment there was a hollow, booming sound overhead. Then, with a rush and a roar, from the side of the cavern some forty feet above, issued a frothing cascade, which fell into the centre of the lake with a sound like thunder, dashing the spray over my face and churning the water into tumultuous foam. The lower part of the cascade and the whole of the lake now gleamed like silver in the light of the rising sun. But the Maori had not risen to the surface. Had he perished down there, or was this simply another lever contrivance beneath the water?
Half a minute elapsed, during which I stood in utter astonishment watching the torrent, whose roar and tumult seemed to drown all thought and feeling. While engaged in collecting my scattered ideas my eye caught a movement of some object ascending the wall of the cavern on the right of the cascade. I looked more closely: it was evidently the kit of provisions which I had seen Ngaraki attach to something there. That something I now knew to be a cord, but who could be drawing it up from above? Utterly at a loss, I could only conjecture that it was Ngaraki, who had passed by some more secret ‘way of the fish’ beneath the lake, and had now reached a part of the cavern high above. Fearing that, if this was the case, he might see me, I withdrew further into the shadows. Well I knew that this ‘way of the winged fish’ was a passage which it would be worse than useless to attempt, for I now saw the truth of Te Makawawa’s words to the effect that none could pass that way without being taught. I realised that my chances of reaching Miriam Grey without Te Makawawa’s guidance were hopeless, and that I must turn my attention to the search for her daughter. Nevertheless, before leaving that strange place I was resolved to explore its accessible parts and see what hidden things of forgotten time it might contain.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE VILE TOHUNGAS OF THE PIT.
I must have sat there in the shadows nearly half an hour trying to understand by what possible means the Maori tohunga had passed from beneath that lake to the higher part of the cave. I was tolerably sure that the water which now thundered down into the lake was the deflected current of that which had formerly welled up from below, no more no less in bulk, for the overflow into the abyss was neither increased nor diminished by the change. Moreover, having witnessed Ngaraki’s manœuvre with the long lever above the abyss, I felt convinced that he had performed the same feat with a similar lever under the lake, and I was strengthened in this conviction by the fact that the dark thing which had reared its head above the water, where it still remained at the back of the cascade, was obviously the end of some rock which might serve that purpose.
The sunlight all this time had been slowly descending as the sun had risen. Now its upper margin had disappeared over the margin of the lake, and all above was getting dark again. No longer fearful of being seen in the dim light, I crept round towards the cascade to inspect the part of the rock which had appeared above the water. It was smooth and rounded, and covered with black slime, appearing to be a portion of a spar with hewn characteristics like the others. I was seized with a wish to bring weight to bear upon this strange contrivance, and see if it was balanced in any way. Accordingly I passed through the battery of spray behind the cascade and secured the longest piece of rimu I could find in the recess. Returning with this, I leaned forward over the margin and gave a strong, steady push to the rock, but failed to move it. It seemed as firm as the main rock on which I stood. Evidently the raising of this lever opened a way for the water to come down from above, and removed the pressure from some aperture below the lake, thus leaving it free for the initiated to pass through.
When I attempted to review my position, I came to the conclusion that until the water was shut off again by the great horizontal spar, I was a prisoner in the cavern, unless I liked to take that plunge through the opening in the side of the mountain. I went round the margin of the lake and looked at it. The water was everywhere within six inches of the continuous pathway of rock. It meant a dive of nearly twenty feet before striking the current, and then there was no end of skill required to avoid being bruised against the rocks in passing through. I resolved not to try it—not just yet at all events. I had yet to explore the cavern round the buttress and along the narrowing gulf that led to the huge grating, so I determined to spend the remaining time of my detention in discovering if possible what the lower parts of the temple contained.
With great care I retraced my steps behind the cascade and round the lake until I regained the darker shadows of the buttress. I made my way on to the broad ledge, above which hung the wooden sprit of the spar, and here, as I stood and gazed down into the abyss, I noticed something which made my flesh creep. It was a simple thing perhaps, but it touched me more nearly than anything I had as yet encountered in that gloomy place. There, on the wall of the abyss, some hundreds of feet below the basin, below the great spar hanging in space, I could see all that was now left of the sunlight—a bright red patch glistening upon the granite. Making my way a little further along to the angle of the buttress, I could trace this shaft of light from the abysmal depths up to the stupendous grating at the far end of the gulf. It was the most glorious, and at the same time the most awe-inspiring thing I have ever seen, this ray from the outer world cutting through the darkness like a golden bar, and falling, all red, upon the sheer wall far away below. It pointed to a depth at which my brain reeled, but the dark which lay above it and the dark which stretched below suggested a depth beyond the depth which was positively awful to contemplate. I sat down upon the rocky lip of that vast mouth of Porawa and gazed stupidly at this clear channel of golden light running through the solid dark. The patch upon the wall far down crept lower and lower, but found no floor. Was the place indeed bottomless then?
As I asked myself this question the light faded away and all was gloom again, save for a dull daylight that crept in for a little distance through the giants’ window. A cloud had come before the sun. Now again the ray came in like the thrust of a golden spear, then it was withdrawn, and, though I waited for some time, it did not reappear.