THE MYSTERIOUS CAVERN.
When the time drew near for the adventurers, if Monella's calculations
proved correct, to reach the base of the towering rock towards which
they were making their way with so much labour, a suppressed excitement
became apparent throughout nearly the whole party. It was clearly
visible in the Indians and in Elwood; and Templemore, even, showed
signs of anxiety. Monella alone was imperturbable as ever, and, if
any unusual feeling arose in his mind, there was no trace of it to be
seen in his placid manner. Perhaps a close observer might have seen,
at times, a little more fire in the gaze of his keen eyes; but it was
scarcely noticeable to those around him.
Elwood did not attempt to hide the state of expectancy into which he
had gradually worked himself; but while he, on the one hand, grew
more excited, Jack Templemore, on the other, became steadily more
pessimistic and moody. Since the adventure of the great 'camoodi' he
seemed nervous and depressed, and he no longer troubled himself to
conceal the discontent that now possessed him. The continued sojourn
in that terrible forest was becoming too much for his peculiar
temperament. Its gloom oppressed him more and more each day; and he
had become silent and unsociable, often sitting for long intervals
stolidly smoking and, if addressed, replying only in monosyllables.
They had now been for some weeks in the wood, camping in it every
night, and going back to 'Monella Lodge' only for the Sundays. To this
rule Monella rigidly adhered; but, since it took the greater part of
a day to reach the edge of the forest from the point they had now
attained, but little work was done at the path-making on Saturdays,
Sundays, or Mondays. Hence their progress had become slower, and
Templemore's discontent and impatience increased in proportion.
One morning, after breakfast, Jack was sitting on a log moodily
smoking, while Elwood was busying himself clearing up after the
meal recently finished. Monella and all the Indians had gone to the
path-end, and were out of sight; but the strokes of their axes, and
their calls one to another, could be heard distinctly, now and again,
echoing through the almost silent wood. Very little else broke the
stillness, but once or twice they had heard that weird sound, half
hiss, half whistle, that the Indians attributed to the monstrous
serpent. Presently, Jack took his pipe from his mouth and addressed
Elwood:--
"You heard what Monella said last night, that he hoped to-day or
to-morrow would see the end of this work. Supposing, as I expect, that
we find that we merely run against inaccessible cliff, I want to know
what you intend to do. To attempt to work either to right or to left,
along the foot of the rock, in the hope of finding an opening would
be, I feel convinced, a mere wild-goose chase, and would lead us only
farther into this hateful forest, and uselessly prolong our stay in it.
Now, Leonard, is it agreed that the thing is to end when we get to the
cliff? I've asked you again and again as to this, but you always put me
off."
"I put it off--till the time comes for deciding about it; that's
all, you old grumbler. What is the use of talking before we see how
Monella's calculations come out?"
"If I grumble, as you call it, it is because I am anxious for others.
I gave a solemn promise before I left my poor old mother that I would
not rush into any obvious and unnecessary danger; any danger, that is,
beyond the ordinary risks of travel in a country like Guiana. Now----"
"Well, what dangers have we courted that are beyond the 'ordinary risks
of travel,' as you call them?" Elwood demanded cheerfully. "We have
come safely through forests and plains thus far, and now we are in
another forest----"
"Yes, but what a forest! I have been, as you know, pioneering in the
furthermost recesses of Brazil and Peru; I know a little--just a
_little_--you will allow, of wild life; but never have I seen the like
of this wood! No wonder the Indians shun and fear it; indeed, it is a
marvel to me how Monella ever induced them to enter upon this work,
and it is still more wonderful how he has managed to keep them from
deserting him. Heaven knows what we have experienced of the place is
enough to try the courage of the best--the most ferocious 'tigers,' the
biggest serpents of one sort ever dreamed of, and the more deadly and
more fiercely aggressive venomous ones; strange creatures that one can
only catch glimpses of and can never see; sounds so weird and unnatural
that even the Indians can offer no explanation. That great serpent,
alone, fills me with a continual cold horror. We never know where it
may be lurking; it may make a rush at one of us at any moment, and what
chance would one have with such a beast? What consolation, to think it
would probably get a bullet through its head from one of us, if, while
that was being done, it crushed another to a jelly?"
"Your old horror and dislike of serpents make you nervous, old boy.
I wish you could get over it. In all else, you know, you are as bold
as--as--well, as Monella himself; and that is saying a lot, isn't it?
You must admit that, if our enterprise has its dangers, we have a
leader who knows what he is doing."
"A splendid fellow! but--a dreamer--or--a madman!"
"A madman! He has method in his madness then! I admire him more and
more every day. He is a man to lead an army; to inspire the weakest;
to put courage into the most timid. I do not wonder the Indians are
so devoted to him. _I_ would follow him anywhere, do anything he told
me! His very glance seems to thrill you through with a courage that
makes you ready to dare everything! He is a born leader of men! He
carries out, in every action, in his manner, his air, his principles,
his extraordinary cool courage, and his gentle, simple courtesy, all
my ideas of a hero of romance of the olden time--the very _beau idéal_
of a great king and chivalrous knight. _I_ can see all this; his very
looks, his slightest motions are full of a strange dignity; never have
I seen one who so excited alike my admiration and my affection! Yet, I
do admit he is a mystery. One knows nothing----"
"Exactly," Jack burst in, interrupting at last the speech of the
enthusiastic Leonard. "It is true, what you say, in a measure. He seems
to have in him the making of such a man as you, I can see, have in your
mind--a hero, a leader of men. Yet here is he, an unknown wanderer
on the face of the earth, giving up the last years of his life to a
fatuous chase after El Dorado, with a few Indians and a couple of
credulous young idiots joining in his mad quest. I like him; I admire
him; I believe in his sincerity. But I say he is mad all the same, a
dreamer; and for the matter of that, so are you. You suit each other,
you two. Two dreamers together!" And Templemore got up and began pacing
up and down, restless in body and disturbed in mind.
Leonard watched him with a half smile; but Templemore looked serious
and anxious.
"We are surrounded by hidden enemies--many of them deadly creatures,"
he went on gloomily. "Already three of us have fallen victims, and
we know not who may be the next. Even the most constant and watchful
vigilance does not avail in a place like this; and the never-ceasing
worry of it is becoming more than I can stand. One wants eyes like a
hawk's and ears like an Indian's. One cannot feel safe for a single
minute; you want eyes at the back of your head----"
Leonard went up and put his hand on the other's arm.
"All because you are so anxious about _me_ and others, dear old boy,"
he said. "If you really thought of yourself alone you would never
trouble; but you make a great affectation of nervous apprehension for
yourself, while all the time you are thinking only of me."
Templemore shook his head.
"I don't know how it is," he returned, "but the thought of that great
snake _haunts_ me. I feel as if some terrible trouble were in store
for us through it. A kind of presentiment; a feeling I have never had
before----"
Elwood burst out laughing.
"A presentiment! Great Scott! _You_ confessing to a presentiment! You
who always deride _my_ presentiments, and dreams, and omens! Well, this
is too good, upon my word! Who is the dreamer _now_, I should like to
know?"
Just then they heard a call, and, looking along the path, saw Monella
at some distance beckoning to them.
"Bring a lantern," they heard him say, "and come with me, both of you."
"A lantern!" exclaimed Jack. He took one up and examined it to see that
there was plenty of oil. "What on earth can he want with a lantern? Is
he going to look for the sun in this land of shadow?"
When they came up to Monella they looked at him inquiringly, but no
sign was to be had from a study of his impassive face. Yet there
seemed, Jack thought, a softer gleam in his eyes when he met his gaze.
"I think our work is at an end," he said to the young men; "and,"
addressing Jack more particularly, "your anxiety may now, let us hope,
be lightened."
Then he turned and walked on with a gesture for the two to follow. And
Templemore felt confused; for the words Monella had spoken came like
an answer to the thoughts that had been in his mind; so much so that
he could not help asking himself, had this strange being divined what
he and Elwood had been talking, and he (Jack) had been so seriously
thinking, of?
However, these speculations were soon driven away by surprise at the
change in the character of the wood. The trees grew less thickly, and
the ground became more stony, the undergrowth gradually thinner; more
daylight filtered down from above, and soon they found they could see
between the trunks of the trees for some distance ahead. And then, in
the front of them, it grew lighter and lighter, and shortly the welcome
sound of falling water struck upon their ears. Then they came upon a
stream--presumably the same that they had been, in a measure, following
through the wood--rushing and tumbling in a rocky bed--for they were
going up rising ground--and splashing and foaming in its leaps from
rock to rock. The trees became still sparser, and the light stronger,
till, finally, they emerged into an open space and saw, rising
straight up before them, the perpendicular flat rock that formed the
base of Roraima's lofty summit.
It was here fairly light; indeed, a single ray of sunlight played upon
the splashing water in the little stream, and the spray sparkled in the
gleam. But still very little sunlight ever entered the place. The great
wall of rock that reared itself in a plumb-line two thousand feet into
the sky, overshadowed it completely on the one side; and on the other
were the great trees of this primæval forest towering up three hundred
feet or more, and extending their branches above across almost to the
rock, though below, the nearest trunk was quite fifty yards away. They
stood, in fact, upon the edge of a semi-circular clearing that extended
for a distance of perhaps a hundred yards, its radius being about fifty
yards if taken from the centre of the exposed portion of the cliff. At
each end of this space the trees and undergrowth closed in again upon
the rock in an impenetrable tangled mass, denser, and darker even, than
that through which the explorers had been slowly cutting their way.
Some of the Indians were grouped round the stream, two or three
enjoying the luxury of wading in it, or sitting on the bank and
dangling their feet in the clear cool water. Matava and the others
were busy upon some kind of rough carpentering. Templemore and Elwood
saw that the stream issued from a hole in the rock near one end of the
clearing; and this was of itself a matter for surprise. They were,
however, still more astonished when Monella, with a strange smile,
pointed out another aperture in the rock near the centre of the open
portion of the cliff. It was about sixteen or eighteen feet from the
ground, and was not unlike a window or embrasure in a stone building of
considerable thickness. Within--at a distance of eighteen inches or
so--it seemed however to be closed by solid rock.
The two gazed in silence at this unexpected sight; Elwood showing in
his eager manner the hopes that it aroused, and Templemore pondering in
silent wonder as to what it all meant. That Monella's 'calculations'
had led them to a most unexpected result thus far--whether by accident
or otherwise--he could not but admit. Of the fact there was now no
doubt. But a clearing of this character, opposite to what looked like
an opening in the rock, or entrance to a cave, was a fact too startling
to be the outcome of a mere coincidence, or a lucky chance. He knew
that a party of explorers might spend years--centuries, indeed, if they
could live long enough--in a search for such a place in that forest
and never find it, unless guided by the most exact information. Then
the fact that the opening was so nearly in the centre of the clearing
had a significance of its own; the question whether it was actually
the entrance to a cave or merely a curious accidental hollow in the
rock was thus answered, as it were, in advance. Besides, just below
the 'embrasure' a small stream trickled out, and, falling down the
rock, found its way amongst the stones to the larger water-course
beyond. Here there seemed presumptive evidence that the space at the
back of the rock was hollow--was, in fact, a cave. But in that case
the entrance must have been purposely closed by human hands. If so, by
whom? and when? and why?
These thoughts revolved rapidly in Templemore's mind while he stood
looking at the rock. He glanced around at the giant trees, and thought
of the almost impenetrable character of the forest they had come
through, and he felt that, if the ideas that had come into his mind
were correct, it was impossible to suppose that such a cave could be
the retreat say, of any unknown Indians living at the present time.
Therefore, the puzzle seemed the greater. _Who_ could have been there
before them--and how long ago?
But Matava now approached the cliff bearing a sort of rough ladder
that he had constructed under Monella's directions; this he placed
against the rock just under the opening, planting the ends firmly in
the ground. He had cut down two young saplings and, partly by means of
notches, and partly by twisting some strong fibres to hold them, had
fastened cross-pieces at short intervals, and so fashioned the whole
into a very serviceable ladder.
Monella signed to him to hold it firmly, and proceeded to test its
strength. Then, satisfied as to this, he quietly mounted it till he
could insert his hand into the aperture. After a moment or two he
called to Elwood and Templemore to assist in steadying the ladder; and,
when they had come to the assistance of Matava and another Indian who
was with him, Monella leaned over into the opening and, exerting all
his great strength, pushed away the stone that was closing it, exposing
to view a cavern beyond. After a brief look inside, he asked for a
lighted lantern and a long stick, and, while these were being handed
up, the expectations and curiosity of his companions became excited
to a lively degree. The Indians, who had been amusing themselves in
the water, came crowding round, half pleased, half afraid at this
unexpected development of events.
"You're never going to venture into that place?" Templemore asked. "It
may be full of deadly serpents. For Heaven's sake do not be rash enough
to risk it. Send one of the Indians----"
Monella replied with a look--a look that Jack remembered for many a day
after. His eyes simply flashed; and then he said quickly,
"Did you ever know me bid another go where I would not venture myself?"
Then he took the lighted lantern, swung it into the cavern at the end
of the stick, and, having satisfied himself that the air within was
not foul, he threw the stick in first and followed, himself, into the
semi-darkness.
A minute after, his head and shoulders re-appeared, just when Jack was
half way up the ladder to follow him.
"Wait a few minutes before you come up," he asked him. "I just want to
give a glance round, and there is but one lantern. Or--well--suppose
you come up and wait inside. But tell the others to keep to the bottom
of the ladder, and be ready to hold it in case we should wish to beat a
hasty retreat."
This seemed prudent counsel, and was carried out. When Jack got off
the ladder into the opening, he was told to jump down inside; and he
found there a level rocky floor about three feet below the aperture,
which had thus a resemblance to a veritable window. By the dim light it
gave he could see that he was in a cavern of considerable height and
extent, and Monella, with his lantern, disappearing through an arched
opening at some distance that seemed to lead to another cave within. He
had brought with him his double-barrel, one barrel loaded with small
shot, the other with ball, and he gave a look at the revolver in his
belt while he stood waiting at the entrance and gazing curiously about
him. He saw that a small stream of water ran through one side of the
cave; there were, in fact, two streams, for one ran in a ledge at some
distance from the ground; but when it came to the opening they had
come through, it fell to the floor and joined the other stream, the
whole finding its way out through a fissure in the rock and running
down outside, as has been before described. Now the stone slab that
had closed the 'window,' as Jack called the opening, had rested on a
continuation of what may be termed the sill, and, on being pushed, had
rolled off. It was a thin slab, roughly circular in shape; not unlike
what one might suppose a millstone to be in the rough. Jack regarded it
with close attention, almost indeed with awe; it spoke so plainly of
human beings having inhabited the place, or, at least, of their having
fashioned this method of closing the entrance to the cave. How long ago
had they been there? And, when they went away, why had they closed the
entrance so carefully?
Monella seemed a long time away; so long that Jack at last began to
think of starting to look for him--they had already sent for another
lantern in case it should be required--when he heard his footsteps in
the distance, and shortly afterwards saw the gleam from his lantern.
When he came closer, Jack scanned his face keenly, but, as usual, read
nothing there.
"You can call Elwood," said Monella, "and I will take you to where
I have been. You need have no fear; the place is quite free from
reptiles."
When, however, Leonard was called, a difficulty arose; Matava and his
fellows objected very strongly to being left alone outside; but it
also appeared that they objected still more strongly to coming into
the cavern. On no consideration whatever would they enter 'the demons'
den,' as they had already named it. But, since they had to make a
choice, they elected, in the end, to remain outside and wait.
When Elwood was inside and had had a few moments in which to get
accustomed to the obscurity and peer wonderingly about him, Monella
pointed out how the opening had been closed.
"I want you to notice," he observed, "that this stone was _cemented_,
and this little stream of water that has accidentally found its way
round here, has, in the course of time, loosened the cement; else I
could not have pushed the stone away. We should have had to blast it."
"Yes," said Jack; "and it also shows that it was closed _from the
inside_. Whoever last closed it never went out again--at least not by
this entrance. Where then did they go to?"
"That's what we have to see about," returned Monella. "Now, follow me,
and I will show you something that will surprise you."