_THE WONDERS OF THE CAVE._
The other inmates of the cave had breakfasted whilst the old clergyman
was asleep. Toby was now occupied in preparing his dish of coffee, and
Mr. Villars invited the patriots to remain and take a cup with him.
Penn noticed Cudjo's discontent at seeing Toby usurp his function. He
remembered also a rare pleasure he had been promising himself whenever
he should find Cudjo at leisure and circumstances favorable for his
purpose.
"Now is our time," he whispered Virginia. "Will Salina come too?"
"What to do?" Salina asked.
"To explore the cave," said Penn, courteously, yet trembling lest the
invitation should be accepted.
She excused herself: she was feeling extremely fatigued; much to Penn's
relief--that is to say, regret, as he hypocritically gave her to
understand.
She smiled: though she had declined, Virginia was going, and she thought
he looked consoled.
"What does anybody care for me?" she said bitterly to herself.
It was to save her the pain of a slight that Penn, always too honest to
resort to dissimulation from selfish motives, had assumed towards her a
regard he did not feel. But the little artifice failed. She saw she was
not wanted, and was jealous--angry with him, with Virginia, with
herself. For thus it is with the discontented and envious. They cannot
endure to see others happy without them. They gladly make the most of a
slight, pressing it like a thistle to the breast, and embracing it all
the more fiercely as it pierces and wounds. But he who has humility and
love in his heart says consolingly at such times, "If they can be happy
without me, why, Heaven be thanked! If I am neglected, then I must draw
upon the infinite resources within myself. And if I am unloved, whose
fault is it but my own? I will cultivate that sweetness of soul, the
grace, and goodness, and affection, which shall compel love!"
Something like this Carl found occasion to say to himself; for if you
think he saw the master he loved, and her who was dear to him as ever
sister was to younger brother, depart with Cudjo and the torches,
without longing to go with them and share their pleasure, you know not
the heart of the boy. He was almost choking with tears as he saw the
torches go out of sight. But just as he had arrived at this
philosophical conclusion, O joy! what did he see? Penn returning! Yes,
and hastening straight to him! "Carl, why don't you come too?"
There was no mistaking the sincerity of Penn's frank, animated face.
Again the tears came into Carl's eyes; but this time they were tears of
gratitude.
"Vould you really be pleased to have me?"
"Certainly, Carl! Virginia and I both spoke of it, and wondered why we
had not thought to ask you before."
"Then I vill get my wery goot friend the captain to excuse me. I
sushpect he vill be wexed to part from me; but I shall take care that
the ties that bind us shall not be proken."
In pursuance of this friendly design, Carl produced a good strong cord
which he had found in the cave. This he attached to the handcuffs by a
knot in the middle; then, carrying the two ends in opposite directions
around one of the giant's stools, he fastened them securely on the side
farthest from the prisoner. This done, he gave the pistol to Toby, and
invested him with the important and highly gratifying office of guarding
"dat Shprowl."
"If you see him too much unhappy for my absence, and trying for some
diwersion by making himself free," said Carl, instructing him in the use
of the weapon, "you shall shust cock it _so_,--present it at his head or
stomach, vichever is conwenient--_so_,--then pull the trigger as you
please, till he is vunce more quiet. That is all. Now I shall say goot
pie to him till I come pack."
"Why don't you kill and eat him?" asked Withers, watching the boy's
operations with humorous enjoyment.
"Him?" said Carl, dryly. "Thank ye, sir; I am not fond of weal."
As Pomp and the patriots remained in the cave, it was not anticipated
that Lysander would give any trouble.
With Carl at his side, Penn bore the torch above his head, and plunged
into the darkness, which seemed to retreat before them only to reappear
behind, surrounding and pursuing their little circle of light as it
advanced.
A gallery, tortuous, lofty, sculptured by the gnomes into grotesque and
astonishing forms, led from the inhabited vestibule to the wonders
beyond. They had gone but a few rods when they saw a faint glimmer
before them, which increased to a mild yellowish radiance flickering on
the walls. It was the light of Cudjo's torch.
They found Cudjo and Virginia waiting for them at the entrance of a long
and spacious hall, whose floor was heaped with fragments of rock, some
of huge size, which had evidently fallen from the roof.
"De cave whar us lives, des' like dis yer when me find um in de fust
place," the negro was saying to Virginia. "Right smart stuns dar."
"What did you do with them?"
"Tuk all me could tote to make your little dressum-room wiv. Lef' de big
'uns fur cheers when me hab comp'ny, hiah yah! When Pomp come, him help
me place 'em around scrumptious like. Pomp bery strong--lif' like you
neber see!"
Climbing over the stones, they reached, at the farther end of the hall,
an abrupt termination of the floor. A black abyss yawned beyond. In its
invisible depths the moan of waters could be heard. Virginia, who had
been thrilled with wonder and fear, standing in the hall of the stones,
and thinking of those crushing masses showered from the roof, now found
it impossible not to yield to the terrors of her excited imagination.
"I cannot go any farther!" she said, recoiling from the gulf, and
drawing Penn back from it.
"Come right 'long!" cried Cudjo; "no trouble, missis!"
"See, he has piled stones in here and made some very good and safe
stairs. Take my torch, Carl, and follow; Cudjo will go before with his.
Now, one step at a time. I will not let thee fall."
Thus assured, she ventured to make the descent. A strong arm was about
her waist; a strong and supporting spirit was at her side; and from that
moment she felt no fear.
The limestone, out of which the cave was formed, lay in nearly
horizontal strata; and, at the bottom of Cudjo's stairs, they came upon
another level floor. It was smooth and free from rubbish. A gray vault
glimmered above their heads in the torchlight. The walls showed strange
and grotesque forms in bas-relief, similar to those of the first
gallery: here a couchant lion, so distinctly outlined that it seemed as
if it must have been chiselled by human art; an Indian sitting in a
posture of woe, with his face buried in his hands; an Arctic hunter
wrestling with a polar bear; the head of a turbaned Turk; and, most
wonderful of all, the semblance of a vine (Penn named it "Jonah's
gourd"), which spread its massive branches on the wall, and, climbing
under the arched roof, hung its heavy fruit above their heads.
Close by "Jonah's gourd" a little stream gushed from the side of the
rock, and fell into a fathomless well. The torches were held over it,
and the visitors looked down. Solid darkness was below. Carl took from
his pocket a stone.
"It is the same," he said, "that Mishter Sprowl pumped his head against.
I thought I should find some use for it; and now let's see."
He dropped it into the well. It sunk without a sound, the noise of its
distant fall being lost in the solemn and profound murmur of the
descending water.
"What make de cave, anyhow?" asked Cudjo.
"The wery question I vas going to ask," said Carl.
"It will take but a few words to tell you all I know about it," said
Penn. "Water containing carbonic acid gas has the quality of dissolving
such rock as this part of the mountain is made of. It is limestone; and
the water, working its way through it, dissolves it as it would sugar,
only very slowly. Do you understand?"
"O, yes, massa! de carbunkum asses tote it away!"
Penn smiled, and continued his explanation, addressing himself to Carl.
"So, little by little, the interior of the rock is worn, until these
great cavities are formed."
"But what comes o' de rock?" cried Cudjo; "dat's de question!"
"What becomes of the sugar that dissolves in your coffee?"
"Soaks up, I reckon; so ye can't see it widout it settles."
"Just so with the limestone, Cudjo. It _soaks up_, as you say. And
see!--I will show you where a little of it has settled. Notice this long
white spear hanging from the roof."
"Dat? Dat ar a stun icicle. Me broke de pint off oncet, but 'pears like
it growed agin. Times de water draps from it right smart."
"A good idea--a stone icicle! It grew as an icicle grows downward from
the eaves. It was formed by the particles of lime in the water, which
have collected there and hardened into what is called _stalactite_.
These curious smooth white folds of stone under it, which look so much
like a cushion, were formed by the water as it dropped. This is called
_stalagmite_."
"Heap o' dem 'ar sticktights furder 'long hyar," observed Cudjo, anxious
to be showing the wonders.
They came into a vast chamber, from the floor of which rose against the
darkness columns resembling a grove of petrified forest trees. The
flaming torches, raised aloft in the midst of them, revealed, supported
by them, a wonderful gothic roof, with cornice, and frieze, and groined
arches, like the interior of a cathedral. A very distinct fresco could
also be seen, formed by mineral incrustations, on the ceiling and walls.
On a cloudy background could be traced forms of men and beasts, of
forests and flowers, armies, castles, and ships, not sculptured like the
figures before described, but designed by the subtile pencil of some
sprite, who, Virginia suggested, must have been the subterranean brother
of the Frost.
"How wonderful!" she said. "And is it not strange how Nature copies
herself, reproducing silently here in the dark the very same forms we
find in the world above! Here is a rose, perfect!"
"With petals of pure white gypsum," said Penn.
Whilst they were talking, Cudjo passed on. They followed a little
distance, then halted. The light of his torch had gone out in the
blackness, and the sound of his footsteps had died away. Carl remained
with the other torch; and there they stood together, without speaking,
in the midst of immense darkness ingulfing their little isle of light,
and silence the most intense.
Suddenly they heard a voice far off, singing; then two, then three
voices; then a chorus filling the heart of the mountain with a strange
spiritual melody. Virginia was enraptured, and Carl amazed.
Penn, who had known what was coming, looked upon them with pride and
delight. At length the music, growing faint and fainter, melted and was
lost in the mysterious vaults through which it had seemed to wander and
soar away.
It was a minute after all was still before either spoke.
"Certainly," Virginia exclaimed, "if I had not heard of a similar effect
produced in the Mammoth Cave, I should never have believed that
marvellous chorus was sung by a single voice!"
"A single woice!" repeated Carl, incredulous. "There vas more as a dozen
woices!"
"Right, Carl!" laughed Penn. "The first was Cudjo's; and all the rest
were those, of the nymph Echo and her companions."
They continued their course through the halls of the echoes, and soon
came to an arched passage, at the entrance of which Penn paused and
placed the torch in a niche. A projection of the rock prevented the
light from shining before them, yet their way was softly illumined from
beyond, as by a dim phosphorescence. They advanced, and in a moment
their eyes, grown accustomed to the obscurity, came upon a scene of
surprising and magical beauty.
"The Grotto of Undine," said Penn.
It was, to all appearances, a nearly spherical concavity, some thirty
yards in length, and perhaps twenty in perpendicular diameter. Carl's
torch was concealed in the niche, and Cudjo's was nowhere visible; yet
the whole interior was luminous with a dim and silvery halo. A narrow
corridor ran round the sides, and resembled a dark ring swimming in
nebulous light, midway between the upper and nether hemispheres of the
wondrous hollow globe. Within this horizontal rim, floor there was none;
and they stood upon its brink; and, looking up, they saw the marvellous
vault all sparkling with stars and beaming with pale, pendent, taper,
crystalline flames, noiseless and still; and, looking down, beheld
beneath their feet, and shining with a yet more soft and dreamy lustre,
the perfect counterpart of the vault above.
Penn held Virginia upon the verge. A bewildering ecstasy captivated her
reason as she gazed. They seemed to be really in the grotto of some
nymph who had fled the instant she saw her privacy invaded, or veiled
the immortal mystery and loveliness of her charms in some mesh of the
glimmering nimbus that baffled and entangled the sight. Save one or two
stifled cries of rapture from Virginia and Carl, not a syllable was
uttered: perfect stillness prevailed, until Penn said, in a whisper,--
"Wouldst thou like to see the face of Undine? Bend forward. Do not fear:
I hold thee!"
By gentle compulsion he induced her to comply. She bent over the brink,
and looked down, when, lo! out of the hazy effulgence beneath, emerged a
face looking up at her--a face dimly seen, yet full of vague wonder and
surprise--a face of unrivalled sweetness and beauty, Penn thought. What
did Virginia think?--for it was the reflection of her own.
"O, Penn! how it startled me!"
"But isn't she a Grace? Isn't she loveliness itself?"
"I hope you think so!" she whispered, with arch frankness, a sweet
coquettish confidence ravishing to his soul.
"I do!" And in the privacy of telling her so, his lips just brushed her
ear. Did you ever, in whispering some secret trifle, some all-important,
heavenly nothing, just brush the dearest little ear in the world with
your lips? or, in listening to the syllables of divine nonsense, feel
the warm breath and light touch of the magnetic thrilling mouth? Then
you know something of what Penn and Virginia experienced for a brief
moment in the Grotto of Undine.
Just then a duplicate glow, like a double sunrise, one part above and
the other below the horizon, appeared at the farther end of the grotto.
It increased, until they saw come forth from behind an upright rock an
upright torch; and at the same time, from behind a suspended rock
beneath, an inverted torch. Immediately after two Cudjoes came in sight;
one standing erect on the rock above, and the other standing upside down
on--or rather under--the rock below.
"Take your torch, Carl," said Penn, "and go around and meet him."
The boy returned to the niche; and presently two Carls, with two
torches, were seen moving around the rim of the corridor, one upright
above, the other walking miraculously, head downwards, below.
The two Carls had not reached the rock, when the two Cudjoes stooped,
and took up each a stone and threw them. One fell _upward_ (so to
speak), as the other fell downward: they met in the centre: there was a
strange clash, which echoed through the hollow halls; and in a moment
the entire nether hemisphere of the enchanted grotto was shattered into
numberless flashing and undulating fragments.
Virginia had already perceived that the appearance of a concave sphere
was an illusion produced by the ceiling lighted by Cudjo's hidden torch,
and mirrored in a floor of glassy water. Yet she was entirely unprepared
for this astonishing result; and at sight of the Cudjo beneath
instantaneously annihilated by the plashing of a stone, she started back
with a scream. Fortunately, Penn still held her close, no doubt in a fit
of abstraction, forgetting that his arms were no longer necessary to
prevent her falling, as when she leaned to look at the shadowy Undine.
"All those stalactites," said he, as the two torches were held towards
the roof, "are of the most beautiful crystalline structure; and the
spaces between are all studded with brilliant spars. The first time I
was here, it was April; the mountain springs were full, and every one of
these _stone icicles_ was dripping with water that percolated through
the strata above. The effect was almost as surprising as what we saw
before Cudjo cast the stone. The surface of the pool seemed all leaping
and alive with perpetual showers of dancing pearls. But now the springs
are low, or the water has found another channel. Yet this basin is
always full."
"Why, so it is! I had no idea the water was so near!" And Virginia,
stooping, dipped her hand.
The mirrored crystals were still coruscating and waving in the ripples,
as they passed around the rim of rock, and followed Cudjo into a
scarcely less beautiful chamber beyond.
Here was no water; but in its place was a floor of alabaster, from which
arose a great variety of pure white stalagmites, to meet each its twin
stalactite pendent from above. In some cases they did actually meet and
grow together in perfect pillars, reaching from floor to roof.
"The stalagmites are very beautiful," said Virginia; "but the
stalactites are still more beautiful."
"I think," said Penn, "there is a moral truth symbolized by them. As the
rock above gives forth its streaming life, it benefits and beautifies
the rock below, while at the same time it adorns still more richly its
own beautiful breast. So it always is with Charity: it blesses him that
receives, but it blesses far more richly him that gives."
"O, must we pass on?" said Virginia, casting longing eyes towards all
those lovely forms.
"We are to return the same way," replied Penn. "But now Cudjo seems to
be in a hurry."
"Dat's de last ob de sticktights," cried the black, standing at the end
of the colonnade, and waving his torch above his head. "Now we's comin'
to de run."
"Come," said Penn, "and I will show thee what Hood must have meant by
the 'dark arch of the black flowing river.'"
A stupendous cavern of seemingly endless extent opened before them.
Cudjo ran on ahead, shouting wildly under the hollow, reverberating
dome, and waving his torch, which soon appeared far off, like a flaming
star amid a night of darkness. Then there were two stars, which
separated, and, standing one above the other, remained stationary.
"Listen!" said Penn. And they heard the liquid murmur of flowing water.
He took the torch from Carl, and advancing towards the right wall of the
cavern, showed, flowing out of it, through a black, arched opening, a
river of inky blackness. It rolled, with scarce a ripple, slow, and
solemn, and still, out of that impenetrable mystery, and swept along
between the wall on one side and a rocky bank on the other. By this bank
they followed it, until they came to a natural bridge, formed by a
limestone cliff, through which it had worn its channel, and under which
it disappeared. On this bridge they found Cudjo perched above the water
with his torch.
They passed the bridge without crossing,--for the farther end abutted
high upon the cavern wall,--and found the river again flowing out on the
lower side. Few words were spoken. The vastness of the cave, the
darkness, the mystery, the inky and solemn stream pursuing its noiseless
course, impressed them all. Suddenly Virginia exclaimed,--
"Light ahead!" though Carl was with her, and Cudjo now walked behind.
It was a gray glimmer, which rapidly grew to daylight as they advanced.
"It is the chasm, or sink, where the roof of the cave has fallen in,"
said Penn.
While he spoke, a muffled rustling of wings was heard above their heads.
They looked up, and saw numbers of large black bats, startled by the
torches, darting hither and thither under the dismal vault. Birds, too,
flew out from their hiding-places as they advanced, and flapped and
screamed in the awful gloom.
To save the torches for their return, Cudjo now extinguished them. They
walked in the brightening twilight along the bank of the stream, and
found, to the surprise and delight of Virginia, some delicate ferns and
pale green shrubs growing in the crevices of the rock. Vegetation
increased as they proceeded, until they arrived at the sink, and saw
before them steep banks covered with vines, thickets, and forest trees.
The river, whose former course had evidently been stopped by the falling
in of the forest, here made a curve to the right around the banks, and
half disappeared in a channel it had hollowed for itself under the
cliff. Here they left it, and climbed to the open day.
"How strangely yellow the sunshine looks!" said Virginia. "It seems as
though I had colored glasses on. And how sultry the air!"
She looked up at the towering rocks that walled the chasm, and at the
trees upon whose roots she stood, and whose tops waved in the summer
breeze and sunshine, at the level of the mountain slope so far above.
She could also see, on the summit of the cliffs, the charred skeletons
of trees the late fire had destroyed.
"It was here," said Penn, "that Stackridge and his friends escaped. This
leaning tree with its low branches forms a sort of ladder to the limbs
of that larger one; and by these it is easy to climb----"
As he was speaking, all eyes were turned upwards; when suddenly Cudjo
uttered a warning whistle, and dropped flat upon the ground.
"A man!" said Carl, crouching at the foot of the tree.
Penn did not fall or crouch, nor did Virginia scream, although, looking
up through the scant leafage, they saw, standing on the cliff, and
looking down straight at them, at the same time waving his hand
exultantly, one whom they well knew--their enemy, Silas Ropes.