skill enabled him to complete the business in such a manner that had his
"griskins" been submitted to the light, no one could have told they had
been "carved" in the darkness.
The strips, as they were cut by Ossaroo, were passed into the hands of
the others, who having already spread out the hide with the hairy side
undermost, laid the pieces upon it.
As soon as Ossaroo had stripped the bones pretty clean, it was then time
to dispose of the flesh. A question now arose as to whether it would be
better to spread the pieces out upon the rock or hang them up upon
lines.
Decidedly better to hang them up, thought Ossaroo; and the others agreed
with him. They would dry sooner in that way, it was thought; besides,
as Caspar suggested, they would be out of the way of Fritz, who, if not
looked after, might steal a march upon them, and devour half the meat at
a single meal. By all means they should be hung out of his reach.
But how was this to be accomplished? Where were the ropes and lines to
be obtained? They had neither poles to serve as uprights, nor ropes to
be stretched between them. True, there was a long piece of cord in the
possession of Ossaroo, which he had manufactured from the Indian hemp,
while making his fish-net; but this would not be enough. It would take
many yards of cord to carry such a quantity of meat. What was to be
done?
"Cut the hide into strips!" cried Caspar, in answer to the question.
The very thing; and no sooner suggested than carried into effect.
The sliced meat was removed--the raw hide was stretched out, and cut
into thongs of about an inch in thickness, and these being knotted
together, a rope was soon made that reached from side to side of the
great chamber. The ends of this were fastened to the rocks; one was
looped around a jutting point, and the opposite was held by being placed
upon a little shelf with a heavy stone on top of it; and thus a line,
something after the fashion of a clothes-line, was carried across the
chamber.
When they had tried its strength, and were convinced that it would serve
the purpose intended, they carried the meat slice by slice, and laid it
carefully across, until the string was full.
Another line had to be made before all was hung up; and this was made
and fastened to the rock, in a similar manner as the first. The
remainder of the slices were suspended upon it, and all hands now
desisted from their labour. Their day's work was done; for whether it
was night or day, they had been busy for a long time, and on the
completion of the job were fain to betake themselves once more to rest.
They ate their meal, and lay down intending to sleep only for a few
hours, and then to rouse themselves and with renewed energies continue
their search after the light of the sun.
CHAPTER SIXTY ONE.
DREAMS.
Karl in his sleep had a dream, "Let there be light, and there was
light!"
This highly poetic passage of Scripture had been running in his mind
during the past hours. He was thinking of chaos before the creation;
and their own situation might well suggest the chaotic age. He was
thinking--and reverentially--of the wonderful power of the Creator, who
out of such darkness could cause light to shine forth by the simple
expression of his will, "Let there be light, and there was light!"
Karl dreamt that a form had appeared to them,--the form of a beautiful
man,--and that from his body a bright light, similar to that of the sun,
radiated on all sides. Around his head and face the rays were
distributed in the form of a glory, such as Karl had seen upon many old
pictures of the Saviour. Looking more attentively at the face, Karl
also recognised its resemblance to the same pictures;--the gentle and
benign expression, the noble forehead, and fair curling hair,--all were
the same. Karl, who was of a religious turn, believed it was the
Saviour he saw in his dream. The cave was no longer in darkness; it was
lit up by the coruscations of light that emanated from the beautiful
vision, and Karl could see all around him.
After regarding him for a while, the bright form turned and moved off,
beckoning Karl and the others to follow.
They obeyed; and, after traversing numerous passages and chambers,--some
of which they recognised as having passed through while in chase of the
bear,--they were guided to the mouth of the cavern, where the strange
apparition, meeting the light of the sun, melted into the air and
disappeared from their sight!
The delight which Karl felt, at this _denouement_ of his dream, caused
him to awake with a start, and with a joyful ejaculation upon his lips.
It was suddenly suppressed, and followed by an expression of pain and
disappointment. The happy passage had been only a dream,--a false
delusion. The reality was as dark and gloomy as ever.
The interjections of Karl awoke his companions; and Karl perceived that
Caspar was greatly excited. He could not see him, but he knew by his
talk, that such was the case.
"I have been dreaming," said Caspar, "a strange dream."
"Dreaming! of what?"
"Oh! of lights, brother,--of lights," replied Caspar.
Karl was deeply attentive,--almost superstitious. He fancied that
Caspar had seen the same vision with himself,--it must have been
something more than a dream!
"What lights, Caspar?"
"Oh! jolly lights,--lights enough to show us out. Hang me! if I think I
dreamt it after all. By thunder! good brother, I believe I was half
awake when the idea came into my mind. Capital idea, isn't it?"
"What idea?" inquired Karl in surprise, and rather apprehensive that
Caspar's dream had deprived him of his senses. "What idea, Caspar?"
"Why, the idea of the _candles_, to be sure."
"The candles! What candles?--Surely," thought Karl, as he asked the
question,--"surely my poor brother's intellect is getting deranged,--
this horrid darkness is turning his brain."
"Oh! I have not told you my dream,--if it was a dream. I am confused.
I am so delighted with the idea. We shall group no more in this hideous
darkness,--we shall have light,--plenty of light, I promise you. Odd we
did not think of the thing before!"
"But what is it, brother? What was your dream about?--Tell us that."
"Well, now that I am awake, I don't think it was a dream,--at least, not
a regular one. I was thinking of the thing before I fell asleep, and I
kept on thinking about it when I got to be half asleep; and then I saw
my way clearer. You know, brother, I have before told you that when I
have any thing upon my mind that puzzles me, I often hit upon the
solution of it when I am about half dreaming; and so it has been in this
case, I am sure I have got the right way at last."
"Well, Caspar,--the right way to do what? The right way to get out of
the cave?"
"I hope so, brother."
"But what do you propose?"
"I propose that we turn tallow-chandlers."
"Tallow-chandlers! Poor boy!" soliloquised Karl; "I thought as much. O
merciful Heaven, my dear brother! his reason is gone!"
Such were Karl's painful surmises, though he kept them to himself.
"Yes, tallow-chandlers," continued Caspar, in the same half-earnest,
half-jocular way, "and make us a full set of candles."
"And of what would you make your candles, dear Caspar?" inquired Karl,
in a sympathising tone, and with the design of humouring his brother,
rather than excite him by contradiction.
"Of what," echoed Caspar, "what but the fat of this great bear?"
"Ha!" ejaculated Karl, suddenly changing his tone, as he perceived that
Caspar's madness had something of method in it, "the fat of the bear,
you say?"
"Certainly, Karl. Isn't his stomach as full of tallow as it can stick?
and what's to hinder us to make candles out of it that will carry us all
over the cave,--and out of it, I fancy, unless it be the greatest maze
that Nature has ever made out of rock-work?"
Karl was no longer under the belief that his brother had gone mad. On
the contrary, he saw that the latter had conceived a very fine idea; and
though it did not yet appear how the thing was to be carried out, Karl
fancied that there was something in it. His sweet dream recurred to
him, and this he now regarded as ominous of the success of some plan of
escape,--perhaps by the very means which Caspar had suggested,--by
making candles out of "bear's grease!"
These were pleasant thoughts, but to Karl the pleasantest thought of all
was the returning conviction that Caspar _was still in his senses_!
CHAPTER SIXTY TWO.
HOPES.
Ossaroo now joined in the general joy; and the three placed their heads
together, to deliberate upon Caspar's suggestion, and to discuss its
feasibility in detail.
But neither Karl nor Ossaroo had much need to spend their opinion on the
details; for the original "promoter" of the plan had already conceived
nearly the whole of them. It was, in fact, these that he had got hold
of while half asleep; and which, on first awaking, he believed to have
occurred to him in a dream. But there was no dream in the matter. The
idea of making candles from the bear's fat had been in his mind before
he lay down--he had even thought of it while they were at work in curing
the meat.
"Yes," said he, commencing to tell them in detail all that had passed
through his mind upon the subject; "I had thought of the candles, while
assisting Ossaroo to cut up the bear. I could tell, by the touch, that
many pieces of the meat were almost pure fat; and I wondered to myself
whether it would not burn and make a light. I knew, of course, that
there was plenty more in the great stomach of the animal, and that of
the real sort of which candles could be made. Would it burn? that was
the question that puzzled me. I feared that it would not burn without
first being rendered to grease or lard, and a wick put into it,--in
fact, I knew it could not; and there arose the difficulty, since we had
no fire wherewith to render the fat, and no vessel to render it in, even
if we had been provided with fire in plenty."
"Ah! that is too true," assented Karl, rather despairingly.
"Well, so thought I, Karl, and I had well-nigh given up thinking about
the matter--of course, I said nothing about it to either of you--as I
knew you could not create fuel out of stones any more than I, and there
was an end of it."
"Yes--an end of it," unconsciously echoed Karl, in a desponding tone.
"Not yet, brother! not yet!" rejoined Caspar, as he proceeded in his
relation. "You see the thing had got into my thoughts, and, after a
while, I found myself once more speculating upon it. How were we to
make a fire that would melt that fat? That we could strike a light, I
knew--we could do that with our tinder or gunpowder; but where were we
to get sufficient fuel to make a fire with, and where was the vessel to
be obtained, in which to render the lard? At first, I thought only of
the fire. If we could once raise fuel for that, the vessel would not be
of so much importance--we might contrive to heat a flat, thin stone, and
melt some of the fat in that way. If we could not make fine candles, we
might dip some wick in the grease, and thus have a kind of taper that
would serve almost as well. I knew we had wick--I remembered the long
hempen string which Ossaroo has got, and I knew that that would serve
admirably for the purpose. All that would be easy enough--at least it
appeared so--all except the stuff for the fire."
"Very ingenious of you, Caspar; these things had never entered my mind.
Go on, brother!"
"Well--to make a long story short, I have got the fuel."
"Bravo! good! good!" exclaimed Karl and Ossaroo in a breath, and in
accents of joy. "You have got the fuel?"
"Yes--I found it, at length; just as I was bobbing over asleep, the idea
crossed my mind; though I fancied I was only dreaming, and must have
afterwards fallen asleep. But I partially awoke shortly after, and took
to thinking again; and then I found the vessel in which we can render
our tallow--I think we can."
"Hurrah! better than all!"
"And now, listen to my plan; for I have been thinking while I have been
talking, and I have it _more_ complete than ever. Maybe you can both
add something, but here is what I propose."
"Tell us, Caspar--all right, go on."
"We have with us two guns--Ossaroo has his spear, his hatchet, his bow,
and a good quiver of arrows--fortunately his quiver, too, is of thick
bamboo, and dry as a chip. First, then, I propose that, with Ossaroo's
axe, we break up the stocks of our guns, ramrods, and all--we can soon
make others, once we get out--also the shaft of Ossaroo's spear, his
bow, arrows, and quiver--never mind, Ossaroo, you can replace them from
the forest. This being done, we can make a fire large enough to melt as
much fat as will make us no end of dips."
"You are right, brother," interposed Karl; "but how about the vessel to
melt it in?"
"That puzzled me for a while," replied the ingenious Caspar; "but I got
over the difficulty, at length, by thinking of my powder-flask; you know
it is a patent one, and the top screws off. Well--we can take off the
top, empty the powder into one of our pockets, and make use of the
bottom part for the lard. I am sure it will stand the fire, for it is
stout copper without a flaw. The only difficulty is, that it is small;
but we can fill it over and over again."
"And you propose to make the string which Ossaroo has got into wicks,
and dip them in the hot grease?"
"Nothing of the sort," replied Caspar, in a triumphant tone; "we shall
have no dips. I was contented with them at first, but not any longer.
We shall have candles--real mould-candles!"
"How? Mould-candles? How?"
"Oh! that you shall see by-and-by. Ossaroo would only disclose part of
his plans when he went to trap the tiger, and I mean to keep a little of
mine to myself, in order to have a _revanche_ upon him. Ha! ha! ha!"
Caspar finished his speech with a laugh. It was the first time any of
them had laughed since they entered that cave--no doubt, the first laugh
that ever echoed through its gloomy aisles.
CHAPTER SIXTY THREE.
LIGHT IN DARKNESS.
Without losing farther time, the three set to work to make the fire,
Caspar of course taking the direction. The barrels were first taken out
of their guns, the locks unscrewed, and then the other iron-work was
removed from the stocks. By dint of a little hammering with stones, and
cleaving with the hatchet, the butt of each was separated from the
heel-piece, and then broken up into small fragments. Even the two
ramrods were sacrificed--the heads and screws being carefully preserved.
In no reckless humour did they act, for they had now very definite
expectations of being able to escape from the cave; and prudence
whispered them that the valuable weapons they were thus dismantling
might be needed hereafter, as much as ever they had been. Nothing,
therefore, was damaged that could not be afterwards replaced--nothing
thrown away. Only the wood-work was sacrificed to present necessity.
Every article of iron, to the smallest nail or screw, was carefully
preserved; and when all were separated from the wood-work, they were
placed together and tied into a bundle, so that they might be easily
carried along.
Ossaroo's weapon went "to the hammer" next. The spear-head was knocked
off, and the long shaft broken into a dozen pieces. The bow was
unstringed and cut into chips, and then the arrows were snapped across,
and the quiver split up. All these would be excellent materials, and
from their age and dryness would ignite and burn like touch-wood.
An important addition to their stock of fuel was obtained from a source
up to this time quite unthought of. They now remembered the two large
handles by which they had carried the torches; for they had made them
with handles something after the fashion of a stable-broom. These had
been dropped at the time the torches went out, and were lying somewhere
near the spot. All three set to "grambling," and soon found both of
them; and better still, found them with a considerable quantity of the
resinous splits of the pine still attached to their ends.
This was a bit of good luck, for the pine-chips thus obtained would be
the very thing wherewith to kindle the fire. Already well seasoned, and
covered with the resin, that had run over them from the burning torches,
they would catch like gunpowder itself.
The whole of the fire-wood was now collected together, and formed a
goodly pile. There would be enough for their purpose, even without the
handle of Ossaroo's hatchet, which was still left in its socket. It
could be drawn out at any time, but very likely would not be required.
Now it was clear to all of them, that their little stock of fuel, if set
fire to in the ordinary way, would burn too rapidly, and become
exhausted long before their candle-making operations could be completed.
This would be a sad dilemma, and would leave them in a worse situation
than ever. Means, therefore, must be taken to avoid such a catastrophe,
and means were adopted, as follows:--
They first set to work, and constructed a little furnace of only six or
eight inches in diameter. This they easily built out of the loose
blocks of stone that were lying about. In this furnace they placed a
portion of their fire-wood--for it is well-known that the furnace is the
best plan for economising fuel. The whole of the heat is thrown
upwards, and a vessel placed on top will receive double the heat that it
would, if hung over a scattered fire that is open on all sides.
But another important consideration led them to the building of the
furnace.
They saw that when the light-wood should be fairly kindled, they could
prevent it from blazing too rapidly, by casting upon it pieces of the
bear's fat; and in this way not only prolong the burning of the wood,
but make a much stronger fire. This idea was a very happy one, and at
once secured them against a scarcity of fuel for their purpose. The
furnace was made very narrow at the top, and two stones were placed so
that the powder-flask,--emptied of its contents of course--should rest
between them, and catch the full strength of the upward blaze.
All these things were arranged without light, but when they had
proceeded thus far, they worked no longer in the darkness. The chips
were placed in the bottom of the furnace--the tinder was ignited by
means of flint and steel--its burning edge was placed in contact with
the fine resin-covered shavings of pine-wood; and in another instant the
great vault, that had so late been buried in amorphous gloom, was
sparkling like a chamber set with diamonds!
The light enabled all three to do their work with rapidity and sureness.
Ossaroo was seen over the skeleton carcass cutting out the huge masses
of tallow, and placing it upon the rocks. Karl was busy in attending to
the fire, which, now that it had received several pieces of the fat,
burned brightly and steadily--while Caspar stood near occupied with the
barrels of his gun.
What was Caspar doing with the gun? Surely it could be of no service
now, without either stock or lock? Ah! you mistake. It was just now
that it became of service, and of great service. Only watch Caspar a
little, and you will see that he has an object in handling that brace of
barrels. Observe!--he has unscrewed both the nipples, and is drawing
the end of a string through each of them. The other end of these
strings may be seen protruding from the barrels at the muzzle. Those
strings are wicks already prepared from the hempen cord of Ossaroo, and
you need not now be told what use Caspar intends to make of his
beautiful smooth bores, for by this time you will have guessed it.
"Candle-moulds of course!" I hear you exclaim.
"Candle-moulds of course," I reply; and most excellent moulds they will
make, almost as good as if that had been the original design in their
construction.
Well, the work went on--the wicks were got into their places--and as
soon as the first flask of fallow was rendered into grease, it was
poured into one of the barrels. This process was repeated again and
again, and several times more, until, to the great delight of all, both
barrels were observed to be full to the muzzle.
Of course the barrels were hot, and the grease inside them still in a
liquid state. It would be necessary, therefore, to wait patiently until
they should cool, and the candles become "frozen" and firm. In order to
hasten this result, they carried them to the place where the water
dripped from the roof of the cavern; and, resting them in an upright
position--so that the drops might fall upon, and trickle along the
barrels--they there left them, and returned to the fire.
This was instantly put out--all excepting a slight spark or two to
assist in rekindling it. It was a wise precaution, for they knew they
would have a long while to wait for the cooling of the candles, and they
designed making at least another cast, before attempting to stir from
the spot. On examining their stock of fuel, they saw that it would be
sufficient to melt the tallow for another pair--they had string enough
for wicks--and of the grease the great carcass afforded them an
abundance.
You will wonder why the barrel of Karl's gun was not also brought into
requisition. That is easily explained. Karl's piece was a rifle, and
on account of the grooves inside would not have served at all for such a
purpose. Had they attempted to mould a candle in it, the candle could
not have been drawn out, and they would only have wasted their labour.
This they knew, and therefore did not make the attempt.
During the interval they employed themselves in "flaxing out" the
remainder of the hempen cord, and preparing it for wicks. They also
enjoyed a meal of the bear's-meat--this time properly cooked--for during
the continuance of the little fire, they had taken the opportunity to
broil themselves a steak or two; and after eating this, they felt in
much better case to continue their labours.
They waited patiently until the time came round for drawing the candles.
It was a good long while, but the time arrived at length, when the
barrels became cold as ice, and the tallow inside appeared to be frozen
as hard.
The fire was now rekindled--the iron moulds were slightly heated in the
blaze; and then the pull was given, slow and steady. A shout of joy
hailed the appearance of the long white cylinder as it came softly
gliding from the muzzle, until full three feet of a beautiful candle
were revealed to the eyes of the delighted trio. The second "draw"
succeeded equally well; and a brace of huge candles, each as big as
three "sixes," were now completely moulded and ready to be lit.
A trial was immediately made, when it was found that both burned
beautifully.
After a short while, another brace was added; and they had now at their
command light enough to last them for a period of nearly a hundred
hours! They could still have moulded more candles--for neither their
fat nor their fuel was exhausted--but surely they had enough? Surely in
a hundred hours they would look upon a far lovelier light--the light of
the glorious sun?
And they did so in far less time--in less than the twentieth part of a
hundred hours, they gazed upon the orb of day.
I shall not detail their wanderings backward and forward, upward and
downward, through the vaulted galleries of that stupendous cavern!
Suffice it to say, that the bright spot indicating the entrance at
length flashed before their eyes like a meteor; and dropping the candles
from their fingers they rushed forth, and once more gazed with delighted
eyes upon the shining face of heaven!
CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR.
CONCLUSION.
You will imagine that after such a perilous adventure in the great cave,
they would never again set foot within its gloomy precincts. Neither
would they, had any mode of escaping from their other prison--the valley
itself--been offered. But they could think of none, and there still
lingered in their mind some slight hopes that one or other of the many
passages of the cave might lead through the mountains, or have an
opening at the top of the cliffs.
Slight as were the grounds for hope, they could not give them up until
they should satisfy themselves by a complete, and thorough exploration;
and for more than a week after their adventure, they employed themselves
in making huge torches and moulding candles for this purpose.
A large quantity of both were at length prepared, and the exploration
commenced.
Day after day they entered the cavern--each day making an excursion that
lasted for several hours. Day by day they continued their fruitless
search--fruitless, since no outlet could be found.