THE DRUNKARD'S VOICE.
Then I noticed a medley of sounds seemingly rising out of the depths
beyond us. The noise was not such as to lead me to infer that persons
were speaking coherently, but rather resembled a jargon such as might
come from a multitude of persons talking indiscriminately and aimlessly.
It was a constant volley, now rising and now falling in intensity, as
though many persons regardless of one another were chanting different
tunes in that peculiar sing-song tone often characteristic of the
drunkard. As we advanced, the noise became louder and more of a medley,
until at last we were surrounded by confusion. Then a single voice rose
up strong and full, and at once, from about us, close to us, yes,
against our very persons, cries and shrieks unearthly smote my ears. I
could distinguish words of various tongues, English, Irish, German, and
many unfamiliar and disjointed cries, imprecations, and maledictions.
The cavern about seemed now to be resonant with voices,--shrieks, yells,
and maniacal cries commingled,--and yet no form appeared. As we rushed
onward, for now my guide grasped my arm tightly and drew me rapidly down
the cavern floor, the voices subsided, and at length sounded as if
behind us. Now however it seemed as though innumerable arrows, each
possessed of a whistle or tone of its own, were in wave-like gusts
shrieking by us. Coming from in front, they burst in the rear. Stopping
to listen, I found that a connection could be traced between the screech
of the arrow-like shriek, and a drunkard's distant voice. It seemed as
though a rocket made of an escaping voice would scream past, and
bursting in the cavern behind, liberate a human cry. Now and then all
but a few would subside, to burst out with increased violence, as if a
flight of rockets each with a cry of its own would rush past, to be
followed after their explosion by a medley of maniacal cries, songs,
shrieks, and groans, commingled. It was as though a shell containing a
voice that escaped slowly as by pressure from an orifice, were fired
past my ears, to explode and liberate the voice within my hearing. The
dreadful utterance was not an echo, was not hallucination, it was real.
I stopped and looked at my guide in amazement. He explained: "Did you
not sometime back experience that your own voice was thrown from your
body?"
"Yes," I answered.
"These crazed persons or rather experiences depraved, are shouting in
the cavern beyond," he said. "They are in front; their voices pass us to
burst into expression in the rear."
Then, even as he spoke, from a fungus stalk near us, a hideous creature
unfolded itself, and shambled to my side. It had the frame of a man, and
yet it moved like a serpent, writhing towards me. I stepped back in
horror, but the tall, ungainly creature reached out an arm and grasped
me tightly. Leaning over he placed his hideous mouth close to my ear,
and moaned: "Back, back, go thou back."
I made no reply, being horror-stricken.
"Back, I say, back to earth, or--"
He hesitated, and still possessed of fear, and unable to reply, I was
silent.
"Then go on," he said, "on to your destiny, unhappy man," and slinking
back to the fungus whence he arose, he disappeared from sight.
"Come," said my guide, "let us pass the Drunkard's Den. This was but a
straggler; nerve yourself, for his companions will soon surround us."