INSIDE THE TEMPLE
The dawn awoke Pierre with a start. He shivered and looked round him
with an empty stare. Then, memory coming back to him suddenly, he got
up and his eyes sought Father Ravennes but did not find him.
Beginning to be uneasy he called out:
"Ravennes!"
"Here.... Come to me."
Turning his head in the direction of the voice he saw the priest
who, hidden between two lumps of rock some twenty yards to the left,
was beckoning to him. Rapidly the young man crawled to his side and
crouched down next to him.
The missionary explained:
"We are at the very base of the temple. Turn slightly to the right ...
yes, there it is.... As an observation post we could not have thought
of anything better than this. Now be silent and let us watch...."
Pierre asked:
"Nothing has stirred?"
"Nothing," said the missionary.
Carefully lifting his head Pierre looked round the scene. Day was
coming--a dull, unpleasant day, shrouded in a thick fog through which
the light could only penetrate very slowly. As the mist rose, the end
of the ravine revealed itself. First of all, the rocky mass on which
the temple was built became visible. Enormous blocks of stone heaped
together rose towards the sky and at each side reached the very walls
of the fissure which they here filled entirely. The ravine at this
point was no more than a gorge, three hundred yards across, deeply
overshadowed by its vertical walls. Out of this chaotic pile of rock
the foundations of the temple rose. They gripped and mixed themselves
with the stone, completing its rugged outline, and carrying it upwards
with the very same rough gray exterior, so that in places Lursac could
not even distinguish where the rock ended and the building began.
Gradually, as the mist lifted higher, the two men were able to perceive
a dozen doors let into the stone at regular intervals in the foundation
wall. The ensemble of the buildings, however, remained still invisible.
For some little while longer they continued to be hidden; then a shaft
of sunlight drove its way through the mist and splashed the cliff on
the right with light. The mist drew away and the entire temple stood
revealed before them little by little. First of all the four towers
of unequal height, built up in tiers, and together resembling one of
those slender tiaras worn by Cambodian and Siamese idols; then the
long, irregular, clear line of the roofs, and finally the gigantic and
wonderful façade, ornamented with porticoes, broken with chapels and
pierced by innumerable windows all barred with rows of small columns.
The voice of the priest trembled with emotion.
"A Kmer temple," said he. "_The_ Temple ... purer in style and more
magnificent than Angkor-Wat itself, and certainly more ancient!"
He had stood up and was staring at the enormous building framed between
the cliffs of the ravine:
"One hundred and fifty yards high.... Prodigious!"
Forgetful of the place and of the circumstances, remembering no longer
their danger or the sorceresses or Wanda, he gave himself up to the
pride of his discovery, to the admiration which overcame him. He almost
laughed.
"Yes.... _The_ Temple! The model, the jewel, the original which those
that came after copied ... and that in the depths of the Lao-ese
forest, among peoples as uncivilized and as primitive as the beasts!
Well, then? Who undertook this gigantic and surpassing work.... Who ...
and why _here_? I...."
He was suddenly silent. Pierre, pushing him back, whispered in his ear:
"Quiet! Be silent!..."
The priest saw him point with his finger towards the forest, on the
edge of which a human being had just become visible. He was strangely
clothed in a brown fur which covered his shoulders and waved about his
figure. On his head was set the muzzle of an ox surmounted with horns
curved in the form of a lyre. The man, walking along the edge of the
wood, reached the foot of the wall, then he crossed the narrow belt of
ground and came to the rocks. Standing upright on one of them he raised
his head towards the façade of the sanctuary.
He was scarcely thirty yards from Lursac and Ravennes, and against the
gray front of the temple his figure was silhouetted with precision. He
was very tall, with astonishingly long legs, a narrow waist and large,
strong shoulders. Turning towards the plain, he first of all watched
the forest; then his glance slid along the cliff and came back to the
buildings, ran over them rapidly and then fixed itself on one of the
windows. He cried with a ringing, and surprisingly sweet, voice:
"_O ... ô ... iê ... iêp...._"
Pierre and the missionary recognized him at the same moment: the hunter
with the club, the chief who had marched at the head of the clan on
their return from the hunt on the evening before.
Suddenly he dashed forward and began to climb the stony blocks. He
mounted towards the temple by supple and accurate leaps, bounding from
one stone to the other and walking with long strides when the ground
permitted it. Each one of his movements and of his attitudes gave a
curious impression of strength and grace. He suggested one of those
great animals of the cat tribe, fierce and full of vital strength at
the same time: his powerful muscular body had the same sinuous movement
combined with suddenness of action, the same sure and silent footfall.
He was now at the very foot of the temple. In front of him stood the
foundation, with its rugged wall broken by the line of doorways;
further up, on a jutting balcony, was another row of doors, of which
each one was flanked by a window barred with small columns.
The Man looked at them carefully. He seemed to hesitate. Then deciding,
he climbed the whole height of the foundation-wall. The irregularities
of the stone which he gripped with his feet, his hands and his knees,
were worn in places and gave way under him; but with a twist of his
body he balanced himself afresh and continued to mount. At last he
reached the cornice and drew himself up on it, and then ran along the
narrow balcony, coming to a stop towards the middle of the façade under
one of the windows.
Standing on tiptoes he raised his arms, seized the auroch's skin by
the horns with which his head was ornamented, and with a sweeping
gesture of one who makes an offering, he hung it up on a jutting piece
of stone. Then he remained motionless, his face pressed against the
columns of the window.
Lursac and Ravennes had breathlessly watched his ascent. With their
eyes fixed on the opening under which the brown auroch's pelt was now
hanging, they noticed with astonishment its extraordinary appearance.
It was surrounded with peculiar offerings, great aurochs' muzzles,
heads of stags, skins of enormous bears, bunches of half-faded flowers,
bundles of fruit, barbaric collars of wild beasts' claws, and in an
angle, set on the same support, a comb of honey from which bright
yellow tears of juice were dropping. Pierre and the missionary looked
at one another, the same question came to their minds: what was this
strange worship? To whom was it addressed? These Red Gods, these
prehistoric men miraculously preserved and perpetuated, these Gods
which were worshipped, did they in their turn worship Something or
Somebody?
With a shake of his head the priest signified the impossibility of
solving the problem.
In any case they had not the time to think of it very much longer.
The Man up there abandoned his position of contemplation, and their
attention was once again concentrated on him. Without giving himself
the trouble to climb down the whole height of the foundations, he
calculated for a moment, leaped, and covering the ten feet or so which
the wall measured, he recovered himself by a simple bending of the
knees. Then, once again turned towards the buildings, he looked at the
strange window. After which he set out towards the valley, disappeared
between the rocky blocks and reappeared further off at the top of a
rounded granite mass, ran down towards the plain, crossed it hurriedly
and re-entered the forest.
The sun, by this time already hot, had dissipated the fog. Lursac
pointed out to the priest the dozen doors set in the wall.
"There is the way we must enter the temple," said he.
With a nod the priest assented.
"Yes, we must try and force one of them at random, it doesn't matter
which! Look, this one, which is opposite to us."
They had now risen and, in their turn hiding themselves as much as
possible in their ascent, they climbed towards the temple.
A mass of granite formed a sort of narrow parapet in front of the door
and on it they stopped bewildered: in the stupendous wall they could
see the door in its doorway and it was half open. Pierre pushed it
gently, and with his revolver drawn ready to fire entered it. Behind
him, the missionary followed.
* * * * *
Thick gloom and clammy cold struck them in the face and clung to them
as they entered. They shivered. Motionless, with every faculty on the
stretch, they waited and listened. The heavy damp silence reassured
them. The missionary struck a match. With a dry scratch the tiny flame
ignited, lighting up dimly the rocky walls and discovering to them,
close by the door by which they had entered, a tripod with its bundle
of resinous branches and dry leaves prepared for lighting.
"Wait," said Pierre, "I will shut the door, then we will set fire to
this."
A few minutes later, by the light of the fire they were able to examine
the cell in which they found themselves. It turned out to be square and
disproportionately high, practically forming a cube. The walls were
gray, on the floor of beaten earth a lance and some hatchets with heavy
flint heads were lying about. On one side was the door by which they
had made their entrance: on the opposite side, a gallery was visible,
separated from the cell by a row of columns set close together and
reaching from the ground to the vaulted ceiling: on the left a stone
wall: on the right a second wall, but pierced by another door, heavy
and re-inforced with metal work, and furnished with a heavy iron lock.
Pierre, going up to it looked at it closely, felt it and tried with the
help of his pocketknife to make it work. The bolt of the lock rattled
and moved. He tried harder, but the blade of his knife broke with a
snap and he gave a growl of fury.
"Curse it!... One must use violence. So much the worse, but we have no
choice."
He flung a look round and noticed the axes. But already the missionary,
bending down, had picked one up. He swung it about for a moment and
fitted the haft of it well into his hand.
Advancing, he pushed Pierre on one side.
"As soon as the door gives way," he said, "we will rush through. The
main hall must be far enough away for us not to be heard. Anyhow we
have no other way of doing it. Are you ready?"
He drew up his great body, raised his arms to their full height and
then heavily brought the club down with his full strength. The lock
rang and sparks flew, while fragments of the flint were scattered
around. Without waiting, he repeated the action several times in
succession with his full strength. Under the echoing vault the noise of
the blows was magnified and made a shattering noise. The lock, injured
and finally broken, gave way revealing its mechanism. With a last blow,
which shattered the wood around it, he made it leap from the door.
Flinging the axe behind him, the missionary, with a violent blow of his
shoulder, pushed back the heavy door and flung himself forward followed
by Pierre. The flickering light of the fire lighted up the entrance
of a subterranean passage. They could distinguish the first steps of
a narrow stairway of which the rest was lost in the darkness. They
commenced to climb it cautiously and soon the shadows closed around
them. The priest mounted slowly, trying the ground at each step. His
hands stretched out before him, Pierre, his revolver ready to fire,
counted the steps one by one.
"Eight ... nine ... ten ... eleven...."
"Lursac!"
The sharp call brought the young man to a sudden standstill; he cried
excitedly:
"Ravennes!"
The cry of the priest, now indistinct, came twice more.
"Lursac!... Lursac!..."
Pierre ran forward and crashed into and thrust aside invisible forms.
He heard the labored breathing of Father Ravennes, and a warning voice:
"Look out!... We are attacked!... Try to...."
At the same time, pushing on him from all directions, a mass of bodies
suddenly materializing out of the night flung itself upon him, carried
him off his feet and overthrew him. His head wrapped in a thick cloth,
his legs encircled, he fell. About him other bodies, clinging to his,
fell with him and rolled over him. There was the sound of stifled
oaths, groans and curses. Then once more all was silent, and he felt
that he was being carried away.