“This inhuman cavern—
It were too bad a prison-house for goblins.
—— —— —— no place safe but this!”
COLERIDGE.
Mutual terror forces hostile animals into peaceful companionship. Under
its influence the wolf lies down as quietly beside the lamb as if in
the kingdom of love. The extremes of faith and education produce in man
under threatened, speedy death, much the same outward result. Pohaku’s
warriors, bred in cruelty, and believing only in malignant deities,
viewed their fast coming fate with sullen indifference. So long as there
was hope in their exertions they were ready to show themselves men,
but when death looked them right in the face, they were equally ready
to proffer their breasts to his stroke without further struggle. Their
instincts taught them that as life was beyond their control, so was
death. He was a foe they could not conquer, neither should he triumph in
their fear. Thus in his ignorance and unbelief the savage meets the great
change with an insensibility, which, in its outward calm, rivals the
faith of the Christian.
Having abandoned hope, they sat stoically regarding the rising tide
of lava,—seldom speaking, for it was a scene in which nature, uniting
them by a common feeling, made speech useless. The air grew hotter each
second. Puffs of steam issued from the rocks near by. At times a thick
cloud of suffocating vapor swept so close to them, that they were obliged
to hold their breaths until it passed.
Olmedo and Beatriz, with their hands joined, calmly awaited their end.
As the danger drew nigher they shrunk closer together, each impulsively
seeking to shield the other.
“How terrible this is, Olmedo, to see earth and air on fire,” said
Beatriz to him, in a voice scarce above a whisper. “Look, it will soon
reach us.” She shuddered and was silent for a minute, but recovering
herself, added, with her eyes seeing only him, “it will be sweet to enter
heaven together, will it not, my more than father?” She thought of him
now only as the being who had awakened in her faith and feelings, which
made her look forward with joy to celestial freedom.
“Yes, my daughter, this is indeed a terrible sight. Nature perishes
like a scroll in the flames. The last day has indeed come upon us, and
we shall soon see the Holy One and his Saints. Have no fear. As we have
fought the good fight, so shall we be welcomed into the joy of our Lord.
But my soul faints for these poor heathen, who await their death with
such unconcern. Would that I could even now baptize them into the true
faith.”
In the meantime Tolta had returned from his fruitless endeavor to find an
avenue for escape. In his anger, he had cursed the gods of Hawaii and
denied his own, from whom no succor came. More enlightened and cultivated
than the Hawaiians, with a moral conviction of the superior truths of
the Catholic faith, yet hating it for the injuries it had brought upon
him and his country, Tolta was filled with distracting emotions. The
Spaniard’s deity might even now save them, as he had ever shown himself
so much more powerful than his own, but he disdained to call upon him,
and the very sight of the crucifix which Olmedo wore filled him with
fresh anger.
He felt that his treachery had brought this awful fate upon those of
all the Spanish race, who had never done him evil. This was a source of
misery to him, but far weaker than that which sprung from having his
hopes baffled by so unexpected and lingering a death, which in releasing
his victims, consigned himself to the accumulated horrors of his own
and the Christian’s hell. Oppressed by these thoughts, believing but
contemning repentance; seeing that just retribution was seeking him out,
yet bidding it defiance; sorrowing, not for his selfish passions, but for
their defeat, he crept back despairing, and laying himself down close
to the feet of Beatriz, said to her, “We shall all burn together. You
will go to the Virgin Mother and I to darkness,—to despair,—to any hell
that shall release me from the sight of the hated white man—curses upon
them all,” and covering his head with his mantle he shut out all outward
objects, and remained as motionless as if turned to stone.
Olmedo made no appeal to him, comprehending its uselessness, but turning
to the warriors, spoke to them of a brighter world which awaited them if
they would trust in the Christian’s God and be baptized. “Renounce your
demon idols and call upon the Saviour this represents,” said he, holding
up his crucifix, and pointing to a calabash of water, added, “you can be
baptized and saved even at the last hour.”
“We have offended Pele,” one of them replied, “and she dooms us. No one
can escape her anger. More powerful is she than your deity. You and your
god will soon be but ashes. See how she rides the air, spouting fire
in her anger! She comes, she comes!” “_auwe!_ _auwe!_” and a mournful
and prolonged wail, like the death-song of the Indian, burst from their
united lips, as a shower of hot cinders began to fall so thick and fast
as to obscure the little light that had reached them through the smoke,
which the wind had hitherto in a considerable degree kept off.
“The cave, Olmedo, the cave,—quick, quick!” cried Beatriz, grasping
his hand to urge him forward. Tolta started up at the call, like one
retouched with life, and the three were soon under its shelter.
The warriors remained as Olmedo last spoke to them, either not hearing
the cry of Beatriz, or preferring to meet their death like soldiers at
their posts in the open air. Their wail continued to be heard to the
latest moment, rising from a low monotonous, tremulous note of suppressed
suffering into a prolonged chorus of muffled shrieks, that fell upon the
ears of Beatriz and Olmedo like the last despairing cry of humanity, and
thrilled their hearts with horror. For an instant it made them regardless
of their own safety, and they turned back a step or two, calling upon the
warriors to follow, but the burning ashes fell so fast that they were
immediately driven still farther into the recesses of the cave. Their
ears were ringing with the dismal wail; the effect of which from sheer
sympathetic force, is to enhance the bitterness of grief and paralyze
joyous emotion, so that the listener is changed into the mourner, despite
his own indifference to the cause. In this case, the sensibilities of the
priest and maiden were the more acute from their own participation in
the dangers which were bringing a lingering death upon so many of their
number, added to their inability to render any assistance. Doubtless the
stupefaction from the poisonous gases, with which the atmosphere was
laden, added to their own exhaustion from previous efforts, aided to make
the warriors so indifferent to their fate. No one replied to the call
of Olmedo, or even to the authoritative voice of Tolta, who had at last
roused himself at the clearer perception of their situation, and with
reawakened energies was prepared to continue his exertions to escape.
It was impossible for them to remain near the mouth of the cave, so they
lighted some torches of the kukui nut, and proceeded to explore it. “We
may find it deep enough to screen us from the lava and fatal air,” said
Olmedo. “Here are the remains too of our last night’s provisions, which
those poor heathen left here this morning. Alas! for their souls! Come,
Beatriz, you shall yet see Juan. Eat a morsel to sustain your strength,”
and he gave the example, more to persuade her than to appease his own
hunger.
Tolta scowled at the confiding smile Beatriz gave to the priest as she
complied with his advice, but he ate also, and the three found in the
short respite from the sights and sounds of the outer air, helped as it
was by much needed food, a renewal of mental and physical energies which
surprised them. It seemed as if they were aroused from some oppressive
dream.
The extent of the cave tempted them on. It descended at first somewhat
abruptly. At the distance of a hundred rods from the entrance the passage
grew narrow, and was partially choked with stones, which had fallen
from overhead. By some labor the two men cleared the way for Beatriz
to follow, and they found themselves in a large chamber, where the air
was quite fresh in contrast with what they had been breathing for hours
past. This revived them still more. The roof was covered with stalactites
of great size, and had the appearance of having been long undisturbed.
Occasionally a slight jar was perceptible in the ground, and a low
warning sound of disturbed elements was heard. They were encouraged to go
on by finding both decreased as they advanced. Once, only, there was a
shock so severe that they paused in stupor, fancying that the rock above
them was being crushed in. But, with the exception of a few loose stones
that rattled down, no harm was done. Evidently the eruption was either
abating, or they were get-away from it. Still to wander at random in an
intricate cave, which might at any moment bury them in its ruins, or
become a living sepulchre by tempting them away from one danger to meet
the still more horrible fate of starvation in utter darkness, for their
food and lights could not last much longer, were not thoughts at all
calculated to raise their courage.
Something, however, tempted them to keep on. So long as they were in
action, hope buoyed them up. Owing to the frequent turnings of the
cave, it was impossible to have a clue as to their real direction. It
was a series of halls or rooms, some of which were lofty and spacious,
joined by long, tortuous and low passages, at times so barricaded by
rocky debris as to almost arrest further progress. Tolta, however, was
indefatigable in clearing a way through them, as he was the first to
explore, while Olmedo and Beatriz waited his report.
Upon emerging into a larger hall than the others, they thought they heard
the noise of running water. It grew louder as they approached the farther
end, where the torches showed to them a stream, which directly crossed
their path. It appeared to issue from the solid rock, but their light was
so faint it was impossible to discern anything clearly, except the quick
flow of the black waters before them, while not far below they heard a
roar and dash as of a cascade or a rapid descent among rocks and chasms.
Here, indeed, was an obstacle undreamed of. Fire cut off their retreat on
one side, and water their progress on the other. Beatriz, already well
nigh exhausted, said to Olmedo, “We can go no farther. Tell Tolta to save
himself if it be possible. He can swim and may find his way out, but we
must remain here and await our fate. Let us by prayer prepare to resign
ourselves to what must now soon come. With you I shall have no fear of
death in any shape.”
Beatriz no more thought of the possibility of Olmedo’s leaving her, even
if he could escape, than she would have consented to have left him to
perish by himself. It never occurred to her, therefore, to urge him to an
effort without her.
“Beatriz, my long loved one, my more than daughter in faith, if die we
now must, we will be one in death as we have ever been in our lives. But
take courage, we are not to perish so. God has not brought us thus far,
to abandon us. I hail this water as a happy omen. What say you, Tolta?”
“When water comes it must go. Rivers do not long flow underground. They
love light as do the trees and flowers. I will see how the other side
looks,” replied the Mexican.
Holding his torch above his head, he waded in. The water was warm and
sulphurous and refreshed him; but it soon became so rapid and deep as
to require all his skill as a swimmer to prevent being drawn too near
the gulf, whose warning roar was heard not far below. Beatriz and Olmedo
watched his progress anxiously, for fear he might be drifted into the
rapids, but his light soon showed by its steadiness that he had reached
ground on the farther side. A few minutes of suspense ensued, when
suddenly he shouted, “We are saved! we shall soon see daylight!” and
plunging into the water again, pushing something before him, he was
quickly back. “See,” said he, “here is a log hollowed out into a rough
canoe. This cave must have an outlet near by, for I see that the natives
come here to bath and sport by torch-light. Hurry, and you shall see for
yourselves the traces of their presence.”
Beatriz, at the direction of Olmedo, who could swim, placed herself on
the log with her feet in the water. It had scarcely buoyancy enough to
support her weight, but with Tolta on one side and the priest on the
other keeping it upright, she was ferried safely over.
It was as Tolta had said. Fragments of food and other tokens of a recent
visit were strewed about. The air also was purer. With lighter spirits
they went on, over an easier path than the one they had traversed, and in
about twenty minutes began to see glimmerings of light. After climbing a
steep and narrow ascent, the mouth of the cave came in sight, and they
shortly found themselves in the open air.
For a few minutes they were unable to discern objects distinctly, but as
they became able to look about, they saw that they were some distance
from the line of the eruption which was still active, but the wind now
blew its smoke and gases from them. The country was wooded, and for
this region fertile. It had suffered much from the vicinity of the lava
stream, the vegetation being either killed or wilted by the heat.
[Illustration: _Hawaiian Girl._]