THE ABOASI MINE.
When I opened my eyes I appeared to be in absolute darkness, and for
a moment I could not remember where I was, but on attempting to move
my hands, their manacled condition at once recalled me to my
situation. A glance upward showed me the dim red glow upon the roof,
and when I turned over I looked upon a scene so strange and unreal
that it might well have been but part of a dream.
Before I had slept I had seen the cavern as it appeared during the
hours of rest; I now saw it in what I supposed to be its ordinary
working aspect.
As I looked forth from my alcove I gazed into a formless expanse of
gloom, in which shapes of deeper shadow moved to and fro. At what
seemed to be the centre of the cavern was a single spot of light, and
round this the strange lurid picture was grouped, and from this it
gradually faded away on all sides into a black void. This one spot of
light was an opening in the floor, and through it there streamed up a
bright glow, as if from an underground furnace, which being reflected
from the roof, lighted up the floor for several yards around quite
brilliantly.
Within the lighted area were several figures, some standing against
the light mere silhouettes of black, others with the glow of the
furnace falling on them, looking like statues of burnished copper, and
all naked, cadaverous and horrible. One man crouched over the mouth of
the furnace and probed about it with a pair of tongs; another sat on
the floor at a little distance and worked a couple of sheep-skins that
served as bellows. A third was filling a broad crucible with some
substance that he took from a bowl-shaped calabash; and several were
dimly visible in the background washing, by means of similar
calabashes, some deposit that they dipped out of copper buckets, while
they tipped the water into other vessels.
I could distinguish at intervals the sound of hammering, and looking
about for its source, I made out the dim shape of a figure crouching
in the shadow of one of the piers, beating out something on a flat
stone. Presently he rose and walked over to the furnace with his
hammer and a pair of tongs in one hand, and in the other one of those
unjoined rings, known as manillas, which the Africans use as standard
quantities of metal. He had apparently just finished the manilla,
which was of gold, and had come for fresh material.
I watched him with curious interest as he stood in the light of the
furnace, a tall, lean, but powerful figure with the tribal marks of
the Moshi nation clearly visible on his skeleton face, and wondered
how he came into his present condition; for the Moshi are among the
most fierce and warlike of the inland tribes, and it was strange to
see one of these bold and turbulent people meekly hammering out
manillas for a parcel of pagan slave owners. The man who tended the
furnace proceeded with his labours, while the Moshi stood by, grim and
sullen, following the process by his ear.
The plan followed here was, evidently, first to melt down in crucibles
the washings from the calabashes, and then to remelt the buttons of
gold so obtained and cast the metal into bars, which were made into
manillas. I was now able to watch the latter process, for the furnace
man lifted out with his tongs a white-hot crucible, smaller than the
one I had seen being filled, and laid it down while he felt about the
floor until he found a brick-shaped block of clay. This was evidently
the mould, for he now removed the lid from the crucible, and taking it
up with his tongs, poured the molten metal into a cavity in the block.
The Moshi then, having found the block by feeling about with his foot,
turned it over, when a small bar of gold dropped out on to the floor.
This he picked up with his tongs, and retreated to his place in the
shadow of the pier, whence there immediately came the sound of
hammering.
I was watching the furnace man prepare a fresh crucible when a light
became visible from the direction of the entrance, and then two men
came into view, each carrying a dish with a large shea-butter candle
burning on it.
With this increase of light I was able to see fresh details, and
workers whose existence had been made evident by sound only, now came
into view. Thus I could see two men engaged in working designs in
repoussé on small square gold plates, and another apparently
modelling some diminutive object in wax--probably one of the wax
models from which gold ornaments are cast--and my attention was so
much taken up by these that I did not at first notice that the two men
who bore the light were followed by several other persons. Presently,
however, the light-bearers halted to examine the contents of a
calabash in which a slave was washing the gold-bearing deposit, and
then the others came up, and I saw that all the fetish-men who had
visited the cavern were present and were accompanied by three
strangers.
These latter at once riveted my attention.
They were dressed in handsome Kumasi cloths, or _ntamas_, of silk, and
carried short heavy swords in leopard-skin sheaths; but the most
remarkable feature was their hair, which was worked up into close
sausage-like ringlets that hung round their necks in a fringe, and
gave them a singularly uncouth and forbidding appearance.
I regarded these strangers with the utmost horror, for I knew that
this peculiar head-dress is the official badge of the royal
executioners of Ashanti, and the scene I had witnessed a few hours
previously began to have a new and shocking significance.
I looked round to see if I could distinguish any of the prisoners who
bore on their shoulders the fatal white mark, but the light was not
sufficiently strong; but even as I looked, the horrid business
commenced.
The executioners, evidently familiar with their duties, separated and
began to examine the prisoners one by one, and as each marked victim
was discovered he was led to a place some distance away from me and
stood against a pier, where soon was collected quite a little party of
the poor wretches who were thus entering upon the closing scene of
their life’s tragedy.
But my attention was soon diverted very violently from these to my own
concerns, for the fetish-men, bringing one of the lights with them,
came and gathered round me with a dreadful air of business, and I now
perceived that one of them carried a coil of stout grass rope, while
another--my old enemy in fact--held in his hand an implement, at the
sight of which I grew sick with horror.
It was a small iron bar, set in a wooden handle, and was flattened at
the end, where it was bent over to form a sharp hook.
Without a word being spoken they set to work.
One of the men sat down upon my knees completely fixing my legs,
another knelt at my head, and taking it between his knees leaned with
his entire weight on my forehead, while two others sat astride upon my
body, confining my arms and nearly suffocating me. Then the man with
the rope passed the end under my shoulders, and was just about to draw
a coil round my chest and arms, when a loud shouting arose from the
further part of the cavern.
The man at my head stood up with an exclamation, and I involuntarily
turned my face in the direction of the noise.
The tall Moshi was struggling in the grasp of one of the executioners,
who was not strong enough to hold him, and both were shouting
vociferously.
Suddenly the Moshi dragged his assailant forward a couple of paces,
and stooping quickly, snatched up his hammer, and, in a twinkling,
brought it down with a crash on the head of the executioner, who
dropped in a heap on the floor. Then the Moshi, with a fiendish yell,
rushed off, brandishing his hammer and hitting out at everyone whom he
came in contact with, and, before one had time to draw a breath, he
had felled two of the prisoners and was charging straight for the
condemned group, flourishing his hammer and bellowing like an enraged
bull. The men who were holding me, leaped to their feet and, catching
up the light, they all ran off, with the exception of one who remained
standing by my side.
The disturbance rapidly began to assume alarming proportions, for the
Moshi, charging in among the condemned men, dealt them such blows with
his hammer that those who were not killed outright or stunned, became
infuriated with rage and pain, and fell upon one another with fists
and teeth until the cavern rang with their yells. They became like a
pack of frightened wild beasts, running hither and thither, attacking
indiscriminately everyone they came near.
The other prisoners, too, alarmed by the screams and shouts, came
running from every part of the cavern, and being in their turn
attacked, joined in the infernal medley.
Thus the executioners and fetish-men unexpectedly found themselves
involved in a seething mob of furious maniacs, all clawing, biting and
tearing at one another, and growing every moment more furious and
wildly excited; and to increase the confusion, the two lights were
trampled underfoot and the place--except for the glow of the
furnace--became wrapped in darkness.
I watched these developments with growing excitement. Already the
fetish-men, unable for the time to restore order, were on the
defensive, and had all their attention occupied in looking to their
own safety, while the man who stood over me was clearly becoming
anxious, for he drew a large knife or cutlass from its sheath and
played with it nervously as if doubtful whether or not he should go to
his comrades’ assistance.
The sight of the knife in his hand roused me to action. Reaching out
my fettered hands I suddenly grasped his ankles and jerked his feet
from under him, and as he came down flat on his back, his head struck
the hard floor with the sound of a pavior’s hammer. I dragged his
unconscious body towards me and searched for the knife, which I found
sticking in his back; for he had dropped it as he fell, and fallen
upon it with such force that its point stood two inches out at the
front of his chest.
I pulled the knife out, and, jamming its wet and slippery haft between
my knees, sawed through the rope that bound my hands together. With my
hands free I soon cut through the cord that confined my feet, and the
halter by which I was tethered to the peg, and then I rose to my feet
and stretched my stiffened limbs.
The fetish-men and the executioners were by this time thoroughly
panic-stricken, and I could see them, by the dim, red glow, struggling
frantically to free themselves from the surging crowd which hemmed
them in. I stole softly to one of the piers and stood by it, knife in
hand, ready to defend myself if anyone should come my way, and
surveyed this astonishing scene of slaughter.
One after another the fetish-men dropped, stabbed with their own
weapons or felled by the hammer of the furious Moshi, whose gaunt form
could be seen in the middle of the crowd like that of some avenging
demon. The untended furnace died down by degrees until its glow faded
away and the place was plunged into total darkness, and the swaying
mass of shadowy figures grew more and more shadowy and dim until they
vanished into utter obscurity.
And out of that black inferno came a din so awful that I shuddered as
I listened. Howls of rage, shrieks of terror, and yells of agony,
mingled in such a soul-shaking concert as might have belched up from
the very mouth of Hell; and above it all rose the infuriate bellowing
of the Moshi and the rhythmical thud of his hammer.
I stood rooted to the ground and fairly quaking with horror as scream
after scream rang out through the darkness and told of the murderous
work that was going on. Suddenly a great tongue of fire rose out of
the floor and filled the cavern with a lurid glare. Someone had kicked
one of the big candles into the furnace, and the melted oil had burst
into flame.
And what a scene its light shone upon!
The floor was strewn with prostrate forms, some distorted and still,
others yet writhing and clutching at one another, and all dabbled with
blood. The few survivors were gathered into a crowd and locked
together in the most inextricable confusion; and, as they swayed
backward and forward, they fought like wild beasts, holding on with
fingers twined in one another’s hair, biting, scratching, and slashing
indiscriminately with weapons that had been wrenched from the priests
or the executioners.
The latter were all dead, and of the former but one remained--the man
with the bandaged head--and he was on the outskirts of the crowd,
struggling, with staring eyeballs, to free himself from the grasp of
two of the prisoners; and at length he tore himself away, leaving his
tattered cloth in the hands of his assailants, and rushed off towards
the entrance.
But I was after him in an instant, and pursued him down the length of
the gallery, slowly gaining on him.
Near the foot of a rude ladder he paused and looked over his shoulder,
and when he saw me, he uttered a loud shriek and turned to fly up the
ladder; but, before he could escape, I struck him so fairly on the
back of the neck that his half-severed head fell forward on to his
breast as he dropped.
I climbed the ladder and groped along the tunnel-like gallery at the
top for some distance, but presently reflecting that the place was
quite strange to me and that, having no light, I might fall into some
shaft or well, or might walk right into the arms of my enemies, I
turned back and felt my way cautiously towards the cavern.
The flame was not yet extinct when I got back and let myself down the
ladder, though the glow was growing much fainter, and by its light I
could see that the slaughter was nearly at an end, for two men only
remained standing. One of these was the Moshi, who strode about hither
and thither shouting, swinging his hammer, and battering at every
prostrate body that he trod upon. The other was one of the slaves who
had possessed himself of a long knife and was now hovering round with
a stealthy ferocity that was very horrible to look at.
At the same moment the two men paused to listen, and each catching the
sound of the other’s breathing, they rushed at one another, and while
the one made a vicious thrust with his knife, the other aimed a blow
with his hammer.
The knife entered the Moshi’s arm above the elbow, but the next
instant the hammer crashed against his assailant’s temple, felling him
to the ground. The Moshi burst into a wild shout, and leaped about
among the bodies flourishing his hammer; but presently he stopped and
listened, and, as I remained stock-still and hardly breathing, the
place, which but a minute ago rang with such a furious din, was as
silent as the grave.
Then a curious reaction set in in the mind of this fierce barbarian.
The frenzy of bloodthirsty rage had time to cool, and the strange
stillness evidently struck on him with a chill of fear, for he began
to call out names--no doubt those of the slaves whose corpses lay
around--and questions in the Ochwi language.
I still remained motionless and silent, for I feared that if I spoke
he would mark my position and rush at me, and I had no wish to kill
him and did not intend that he should kill me; but, as the flame was
now rapidly dying out, I considered that if any fighting was to be
done it had better be in what light remained, for so I had the
advantage, whereas in the dark the advantage clearly lay with the
blind man.
When, therefore, having received no reply to his question in Ochwi he
asked in barbarous Hausa, “Is there no one here?” I replied, “Yes.
There is one left.”
“Who art thou?” he demanded with fierce suspicion.
“I am the new prisoner who was brought here yesterday,” I answered.
“Have they blinded thee yet?” he asked.
“No,” said I. “They were about to put out my eyes when the fight
began.”
“Where are all the others?” he inquired.
“They are lying all around, dead,” I answered.
“What!” he shouted. “Have they killed all the slaves but me?”
“Many of them thou didst kill thyself,” said I, “and as to the rest,
they killed one another or were killed by the wizards.”
“Dost thou tell me that I have killed my friends?” he exclaimed in a
tone of horrified surprise. “I thought it was the wizards and the men
of Kumasi with whom I was fighting, and now thou sayest I have killed
my comrades. This is a dreadful thing!” and to my surprise he burst
into loud weeping, tearing at his hair and beating his breast with his
clenched fist.
I took the opportunity to pick up the remaining candle and drop it
into the furnace, for I had no mind to be left in the darkness with
this unstable, excitable savage.
“And where are the wizards and the Kumasi men?” he asked presently.
“They are all dead,” said I. “Their bodies lie around thee.”
He broke out again into boisterous blubbering lamentations.
“All gone,” he moaned, “and thou tellest me I have killed them--have
killed my brothers who have worked by my side this long, long time.
Why should I not die, too? Come, my friend, take a knife and kill me
so that I may rest among my friends.”
“This is folly,” said I, for I felt that time was too precious to be
wasted on maudlin lamentation. “The others are dead and we are alive.
Let me bind up thy arm, and then let us begone from this accursed
place.”
I tore off a strip of cloth from the garment of one of the dead
fetish-men, and bound up his bleeding arm as well as I could.
“Now,” I said, “thou knowest this place better than I. How shall we
go?”
“We cannot get out by the entrance,” he answered, “for the houses of
the wizards are there, and we shall be taken as soon as we come out.”
This was manifestly true, and was as I had expected; but some move
would have to be made without delay, for more of the fetish-men or
their armed followers might arrive at any moment.
“Is there any other way out?” I asked.
“That I know not,” he replied. “There is a passage that I can show
thee, but where it ends I cannot tell; only I know that some of the
slaves have gone away through it, but they have always been brought
back after a time, excepting two.”
“And what of them?”
“They never came back from the passage, but whether they escaped, or
died in their hiding-places, we never knew. It was a long time ago.”
I considered a moment and decided to explore the passage, for if,
after all, there was no way out through it we should be no worse off.
We could still try the entrance.
“Where is this passage?” I inquired.
“Show me the furnace,” said he.
I put his foot against the rim of the furnace mouth, and he groped
round among the corpses until he felt the bellows; then he stood up
and walked off confidently, and I followed. He walked straight to a
post of timber, and having felt it, turned and made for the wall.
“It is hereabouts,” he said, and, raising his arms, began to feel
along the wall; and when I examined the spot as well as I could in the
half darkness, I could make out a shape of deeper shadow about seven
feet from the ground.
“Here it is,” I said. “Stand thou there and let me climb on thy
shoulders and I will pull thee up after.”
“Thou wilt go and leave me behind,” he exclaimed suspiciously.
“Then climb on my shoulders and go first,” said I, for I knew he would
not go off by himself; and setting my arms against the wall I planted
my feet firmly.
He climbed up actively enough on to my shoulders, gave a spring and
was gone, and the next moment I felt his hand reaching down for me;
but in spite of his help I was quite unable to get up the slippery
wall, and, after a number of fruitless struggles, was beginning to
think of abandoning the attempt and making a dash for the entrance,
when I remembered the coil of rope that the fetish-men had brought to
bind me. Bidding the Moshi wait for me, I ran across the cavern,
lighted by the now fading flare from the furnace, and found the coil
lying in my alcove. Returning to the opening, I passed up the two ends
to my companion, who now hauled me up without difficulty.
The passage in which we now found ourselves was a kind of tunnel about
four feet high, and, of course, pitch dark; and my companion being
more at home in these conditions than I, led the way. We crawled along
on hands and knees for a long distance until, at length, my comrade
called out that the part that we had entered was higher, and I then
stood up; but our progress was slower walking than crawling, for we
had--or at least my companion had--to make sure of the ground before
each step, lest we should fall into some shaft or pit. So we groped
our way along for an apparently interminable distance until at last,
to my joy, I perceived, a long way ahead, a faint spot of light. I
informed my companion of this, but he seemed quite incredulous.
“It cannot be,” he said, “for if there is an opening here, how could
it be that the slaves were unable to get away?”
I did not think it worth while to argue the question, but groped on
hopefully. The light grew gradually brighter, although still but a dim
reflection on the wall of the tunnel, but presently a turn showed the
end of the passage distinctly a long distance ahead, and evidently not
opening into the outer world but into some chamber or gallery lighted
by daylight.
We now quickened our pace, and soon emerged into a very singular
cavern or chamber.
It was roughly circular in plan, about fifteen yards across and thirty
or forty feet high, the walls gradually approaching towards the top,
where there was an irregular-shaped opening through which I could see
masses of foliage and a single spot of sky. The sides were of the
rough rock, not cut away as in the other cavern, but quite irregular
and broken, like the face of a cliff, with deep hollows and large
projecting bosses; but very little of the original surface could be
seen, for a dense covering of moss encrusted the whole of the sides
and floor, and out of this tiny, delicate, pale-green ferns sprang,
while the darker corners harboured clusters of toadstools, mostly
snowy-white.
Altogether there was in the aspect of the place something singularly
suggestive of the unnoticed passage of time, and of solitude long
undisturbed; such as one remarks on entering some ancient tomb,
outside which the centuries have rolled on, while the dust has slowly
deposited on the unchanging monuments of the forgotten dead within.
But it was not the general appearance of the place alone that bore
this suggestiveness, for the objects that it contained were yet more
fraught with an air of mouldy antiquity, and these riveted my
attention from the moment that my eyes fell upon them.
On one side, close to the wall, reposed a great chest of age-blackened
odúm wood, evidently of native workmanship, despite the elaborate
carving on its front, which, indeed, had it been seen under other
conditions, would have stamped it as European in origin; for the
central device showed a rudely executed square of drapery on which was
a grotesque face.
But the model from which it had been copied stood opposite--a smaller
coffer of jet-black mahogany in the last stage of decay, on the front
of which could yet be distinguished a carving of the Holy Handkerchief
of St. Veronica surmounted by the initials “J de S,” and flanked by
the date “1489.”
Each chest bore on its lid a collection of skulls arranged with great
precision, the larger chest having sixteen skulls in a double row, and
the smaller chest having nine in a single row; and, even to my
inexpert eye, it was easy--seeing them thus in groups--to perceive a
difference in type, the skulls upon the smaller chest being obviously
less massive than the others, and having much less projecting jaws and
smaller teeth.
As I noted these differences I understood in a flash what place this
was in which I stood. It was the cavity caused by the caving in of the
tunnel in which the old Portuguese adventurers had been surprised by
the natives; and these skulls, which grinned at one another from the
lids of the two coffers, were the remains of the men who had been
overwhelmed amidst the explosions of those antique guns some four
hundred years ago, disinterred from the rubbish of the fallen roof
Heaven knows when, and reverently set out to confront one another in
death as they had done in life.
“What seest thou in this place?” asked Bukári--for such I had
ascertained was my companion’s name.
I told him of the two great chests and the skulls upon them.
“Ah!” he exclaimed. “Then this is the treasure chamber of the Tano
abúsum. This is where the wizards hoard the gold that we poor
wretches have toiled to win from the bottom of the pool, and that the
hypocrites pretend to give to the Osai of Kumasi. Let us open the
chests and see if it be not so.”
“No, no,” said I. “Let the chests go for the present--perchance they
are empty after all--and let us get out of this trap if we can.
Doubtless they are searching for us even now.”
This suggestion so alarmed Bukári that he instantly forgot the
treasure and begged me to search for a means of escape.
I examined the place narrowly, and was somewhat dismayed to find no
trace of an outlet. The tunnel by which we had come had at one time
been continued on the opposite side of the chamber, and its opening
was still visible; but it was completely closed with masses of rock
and rubbish. Doubtless when this chamber was re-excavated, the debris
of the fallen roof had been cleared away into the further tunnel,
which was now consequently filled up. I walked round and round the
chamber, peering into every dark corner, and glanced wistfully up at
the opening overhead, where the green leaves were rustling so
tantalisingly; but there seemed no more chance of escape than if we
had been at the bottom of a well.
Presently I began to consider whether it might not be possible to
climb up the rugged side and reach the opening. It certainly did not
look very feasible, but I determined to make the attempt, so,
selecting a part of the wall that presented the greatest number of
projections, I began the ascent, while Bukári kept guard over the
tunnel, listening intently for the footsteps of pursuers.
With a good deal of difficulty I managed to climb up a distance of
some fifteen feet, but beyond this ascent was impossible, for the wall
began to slope smoothly outwards. I clung to a knob of quartz that
projected from the rock and turned my head to see if anything was
visible from this height that could not be seen from the floor; and
when I did so my heart leaped with joy and hope, for directly opposite
me was the dark opening of a tunnel which had been hidden from below
by a projecting boss of rock.
Perhaps my rejoicing was premature, for the tunnel was nearly twenty
feet from the floor and had, as I have said, below it a great
projection; but it looked like a way out and was, in any case, a safe
hiding-place, so I scrambled down, resolved to reach it or break my
neck in the attempt. Bukári was highly elated when I told him of my
discovery, and encouraged me with the suggestion that the slaves who
disappeared might have escaped that way; so, throwing round my neck
the coil of rope (which I had prudently brought with me) I commenced
to clamber up the face of the wall under the projection.
As I worked my way up, inch by inch, I always seemed to have reached
the very highest point that was possible, and as I clung, with my
fingers hooked in the treacherous moss, and my toes lodged on some
almost invisible projection, I looked up at the space that yet
remained above me with a feeling of despair. And yet, inch by inch,
with incredible labour, I crept up, slowly reducing the space, until,
at length, I came to the promontory that projected forward like some
great bracket or corbel. To scale this seemed an utter impossibility,
for it stood out above my head with its surface at an angle of nearly
thirty degrees from the vertical, and it looked as if I must fail
after all within a few feet of safety.
After a brief rest I now began to edge away to one side, and in this
way was able to hoist myself upwards two or three feet, but in a
direction slanting somewhat away from the opening of the tunnel.
Still, it was something to attain a higher level, and I crept on,
streaming with perspiration and faint from the want of food, digging
my fingers into the moss and taking advantage of every cranny and
projecting crystal of quartz, until at last my eyes came on to the
level of the floor of the tunnel.
But the tunnel was now several feet away to my left, and to reach it I
must cling somehow to the overhanging rock.
The thing seemed impracticable, but yet each time I changed my
foothold or the grip of my bruised and aching fingers, I came somehow
a little nearer, until my shoulders overhung my feet by two or three
inches. At length I lodged one hand on the edge of the tunnel floor
and could look into the dark cavity; then I shifted the other hand so
that it gripped the corner of the opening. After a moment’s rest I
managed to slide my left hand a little along the floor until it caught
a projecting stone, and letting go with my right, quickly slipped it
on to the same projection. Here I remained fixed, with my arms reached
into the opening, and one foot holding on to a clump of moss with the
toes, while with the other foot I felt about vainly for a new
foothold.
Suddenly I felt my foot slipping from the moss, while the other slid
down the smooth rock. At the risk of flinging myself away from the
wall I gave a violent kick, digging my toes into the moss, and at the
same moment tugged with all my might at the stone in the tunnel floor;
and, as my legs flew from under me, I dragged my head and shoulders
and chest into the opening.
I was now in an apparently hopeless position, lying across the sill of
the opening with my legs dangling over the edge of the projecting
rock, more than half of my body outside the tunnel, and only prevented
from overbalancing outwards by my grip on the stone in the floor. Thus
I remained for some minutes fixed and helpless; but at length, by dint
of cautious wriggling and pulling steadily at the stone I dragged
myself forward until I was able to hitch one knee over the sill. Then
I crawled bodily into the tunnel and sat down with my back against the
wall to get my breath.
But there was no time for rest. Our pursuers might appear at any
moment, and it was necessary to get my companion out of the treasure
chamber--if such it was--without delay. I uncoiled the rope, and on
lowering it over the edge, found that, if I held both ends, the bight,
or loop, would just touch the ground. I called out to Bukári to know
if he could climb up by the aid of the rope, and on his replying very
readily that he could, I directed him how to find the hanging bight.
He listened intently at the tunnel for a moment, and then crossing the
chamber, according to my directions, felt about for the rope; and when
he grasped it he planted his feet against the wall and came up hand
over hand with surprising agility, while I held on with my feet fixed
against the stone.
As soon as he stood beside me, I gathered up the rope and coiled it
round my neck, and without more delay we started off down the tunnel,
Bukári leading as before.
This gallery extended a considerable distance, but we had not gone
very far when I caught a faint glimmer of light, and presently, on
rounding an angle, I saw before me a very small spot a long way off,
the dazzling brightness of which left me in no doubt as to its being
actual daylight. I communicated this discovery to Bukári, and we
trudged along very hopefully, the light growing stronger every moment;
and soon I could distinguish a mass of foliage waving to and fro
across the opening. At last we came to the mouth of the tunnel, which,
I was astonished to find, opened on to the face of a cliff, the
foliage that I had seen being the topmost bough of a great odúm tree
that grew at its foot. The cliff, however, was not so steep as to
present any considerable difficulty in the descent, and its face was
covered with large bushes, by which one could easily climb down to the
level.
Bukári and I sat in the mouth of the tunnel, breathing in the soft
sweet air--so different from the foul and noisome atmosphere of the
mine--and talked over the situation. As to the geography of the mine,
he knew nothing about it, but it seemed quite evident from the
distance we had travelled since leaving the slaves’ cavern, that the
entire range of tunnels passed right through a hill, and that we were
on the opposite side to that in which the entrance was situated. The
tunnel that we had just traversed was most probably an ancient working
that had become separated from the rest of the mine when the gallery
caved in, and its existence was almost certainly unknown to the
fetish-men. Probably also the cliff on which it now opened had been
formed by a landslip, and its original opening may have been upon a
shelving hillside. At any rate, it formed a safe refuge for the
present, where we could consider at leisure what our next move was to
be.
But we could not give too much time to our deliberations, for the
first question--and a very pressing one, too--was, where we were to
obtain some food? Neither Bukári nor I had eaten a morsel since the
previous day, and we had gone through a prodigious amount of mental
and bodily exertion, and my own diet just lately had been of the
scantiest; so that whatever we might elect to do afterwards, it was
imperative that we should obtain, somehow, something to eat.
But it was equally necessary that we should not lose sight of the
tunnel, which was to be our place of refuge until we decided on our
future proceedings, and as Bukári exacted from me a solemn promise
that I would not leave him, we must devise some plan for finding our
way back to it if we left it.
From our present situation I could see but little, for the opening of
the gallery was somewhat lower than the tops of the larger trees that
grew on the level, so I decided to ascend to the summit of the hill in
order that I might see the lie of the land. This decision I
communicated to Bukári, who at once strongly objected to the
proposal, being evidently afraid that I should go off and leave him;
but on my solemnly repeating my promise to stand by him, he
reluctantly consented, and agreed to remain in the mouth of the
tunnel, so that if I should fail to find it on my return--which was
quite possible since the surrounding bushes, to a great extent,
concealed it--he should be ready to answer my hail.
These matters being settled, I looked about for the easiest way up the
face of the cliff, and, selecting a space to one side of the tunnel
where the bushes grew most densely, began the ascent.