LOST.
But what of those who had been left behind? What had been their fate,
and how had they spent those dreadful hours, when they could but
reasonably expect that their companions, who had left them only that
morning alive with hope and health, had met the most miserable death?
The morning had been beautiful, and all had gone to see the striking of
the tents and breaking of camp, and they had followed the marching army
for some distance over the bad lands; but at the earnest request of the
men they had at last turned and gone back to the villa. They had noticed
the continued inactivity of the volcano and had hoped, woman fashion,
that the worst might be over, and their spirits had been, accordingly,
bright.
But the long morning hours grew tiresome, and the women became restless,
and could find no way to pass the weary time. They spent a while on the
terrace, but the garden had lost all its beauty by the shower of ashes.
They ate their luncheon mechanically at midday and then tried to sleep
awhile, but made a sad failure of this, and at last, not knowing what
else to do, they had ordered their zebras and started for a ride down
the avenue. It was not long before they were well beyond the radius of
falling ashes, and it was a great relief to them to see green fields and
shady trees again, and the beautiful smooth pavement of the avenue. They
rode for a long distance, forgetting, in their pleasure, that they were
getting a long way from the villa. But the sun was so bright here, and
everything so fresh and green, and the air so pure, they dreaded
returning to the rather doubtful atmosphere of the villa.
But they must turn now, for the sun was getting well down toward the
west, and what is that? The question was easily answered, for they had
become quite accustomed to the rumbling sound of the earthquakes. Still
it startled them, and they urged their beasts forward. The sound grew
nearer, and then the earth began to shake so violently the zebras
tottered and almost fell. And then another awful shock came, and the
zebras became frightened, and, taking the soft bit between their teeth,
they tore down the avenue. Then the awful explosion came like the report
of a thousand cannons, and the riders saw the awful spout of dust,
ashes, steam, smoke, pouring from the volcano, and almost immediately
afterward they were engulfed in that fearful black atmosphere which
choked and blinded them.
The zebras stopped so suddenly that their riders almost lost their
seats, but by kind words, and by gently patting them, they were
persuaded to proceed carefully. Here the avenue was plain to see, and
there was little fear of losing the way, but the ashes were falling with
such force and such volume, the roadway was fast becoming blocked. Still
the zebras were light-footed, and their riders had hopes of their being
able to reach the villa. But the borders of the avenue continued in that
unbroken line of trees, and the surrounding country was so much alike,
it was hard to tell just where to turn off to the villa. The thought had
occurred to Enola that they might be carried by this, and on and on
until the beasts, overcome, would sink to the ground, leaving the riders
to their fate. It was impossible to see anything, excepting now and
then, when the light of the volcano would break through the awful gloom
for a moment. Even then the air was so thick with the cinders and dust,
they could not penetrate it more than a few feet.
And so they plodded along, each moment the gloom becoming more dense and
the avenue pavement harder for the zebras to traverse. They must
certainly have reached the villa by this time, but for all they could
see, they might still be ten miles from it. They could not place any
dependence on the zebras, for they were too badly scared to act
rationally; besides their senses of smell and sight were entirely lost
in this stifling atmosphere.
The situation was becoming desperate, but there was positively nothing
to do but ride on with the forlorn hope of riding beyond the circle of
the shower. But if they could not reach the villa, why not turn and ride
back to the green fields and open country again? Aye, why not. The
thought had occurred to Enola, and the more she thought of it, the more
feasible the idea seemed to be, and at last it occurred to her that this
might be their only chance of escape. Waiting until the volcano’s light
broke through the gloom for a moment, she motioned to her friends to
follow her, and after a moment she managed to turn her zebra’s head, and
when this was done, and they had gotten started in the opposite
direction, they seemed to have the wind at their backs and they could
ride with a little more comfort. But the darkness was intense now, for
night had closed in, and if possible, had added to the Egyptian
blackness. The riders could only see each other at very infrequent
intervals when the volcano’s light would, for a moment, melt the gloom
and give the almost exhausted women a moment’s respite.
They were moving very slowly, the ashes getting so thick over the avenue
pavements, that the zebras found it almost impossible to further beat
their way through it. But one of the infrequent light spells now allowed
them to look about again, and Enola saw that they had left the avenue.
On an ordinary dark night this could have been easily detected by the
sound of the zebras’ hoofs, but now the grass sod and the hard onyx
pavement were the same; they were both lost beneath the carpet of ashes.
This new aspect of things did not please our friends. They were being
overcome very rapidly by the thick atmosphere; it was killing them by
inches. They could scarcely breathe any longer; every breath was like
the stab of a stiletto, the sharp particles of the ashes had penetrated
and cut the soft membranes of the throat and lungs, and then that steamy
air, upon touching the raw flesh would cause the most acute pain. Their
hands and faces were blistered, and their eyes seemed to be burning out
of their heads.
Enola and Nellie stood it better than Mrs. Graham. She had almost fallen
from her zebra several times, and Nellie and Enola were now trying to
ride on either side of her, to save her from falling, if possible. But
it was growing worse each moment, and hope was nearly dead. They were
staggering along in the darkness, the zebras every now and then
stumbling up against a tree, and nearly rubbing their riders from their
backs. They felt satisfied that they had lost their way, and if this was
so, and they could not again reach the avenue, then, indeed, might all
hope be abandoned. Black as Erebus, the air was not only laden with the
death-dealing ashes, but was so hot and humid, that no living thing
could withstand it for any length of time.
It seemed an age since that first awful rumbling of the earth, and this
fearful darkness overtook them; it seemed that night ought to have given
way to day and the day to night again. So acute was their pain, so
fearful the darkness, so quiet all else but the rumbling of the earth
and the hissing of the steam in the volcano, that time itself seemed to
stand still waiting for the hellish scene to pass. In such a moment one
could imagine that a lifetime had been passed, and if youthful features
should be changed to those of old age in such a night of suffering, it
would not seem strange, for in those few short hours more suffering is
crowded than in many years of ordinary life, and when it is all over
with, one cannot realize that this could be in such a short space of
time. Then these women were fast losing consciousness; their brains were
in a whirl; they could no longer think; they had almost grown insensible
to their pain; their eyes no longer tried to penetrate the darkness
about them; they no longer tried to guide the zebras as they had done
heretofore, notwithstanding that the zebras were more likely to know the
right path than themselves. They still clung to the mane and rein and
tried hard to retain their seats on the backs of the zebras, but they
did this mechanically and not because they were guided by any spirit of
self-protection.
They had now became separated too, and each of the zebra was trying to
pick out a path for itself. But it was dreadful, for the zebras were now
also wandering on from a mere sense of habit, and not because they had
any longer any hope of escaping. Their heads dropped until their noses
almost touched the ash-covered ground. Their eyelids seemed frozen in a
cramped position over the eyes and the balls of their eyes looked out
like pieces of glass which had been rubbed with sand paper. There was no
longer any sight in those eyes; there could not be after being exposed
to the beating ashes and dust as long as they had. The legs of the poor
beasts were raw to the knees, but still they plodded through the ashes
which must have set them crazy with pain, if they too had not lost all
sense of pain.
Such dreadful sufferings could not help but make one helplessly mad. It
was a hell, an awful, reason-destroying hell, but a merciful hell in a
way, for although it lacerated the poor, tortured bodies of its victims,
it at the same time destroyed all consciousness of their suffering. So
like poor, undying spirits in a helpless state of painless suffering, if
such a thing could be, the zebras wandered on, bearing the almost
lifeless bodies of the women.
Suddenly Enola half roused herself and opened her swollen eyes. Only for
a moment, however, for they soon closed again and she lapsed into that
comatose state, and then had dropped to the zebra’s neck as before. But
again the eyes half opened and this time she showed signs of returning
consciousness.
But the eyes closed again for a moment and then she starts as if having
been struck; no, she had not been mistaken, there it was, a light
burning through the darkness. Could she call for help? Her throat was
dry and parched; she had not tried to make a sound in hours, days it
seemed to her, but she must try now; so opening the baked lips she made
an effort, but it was useless. She could not articulate. But the zebras
were moving slowly toward the light and they might see her yet. It must
be the villa and they were safe at last. She turned to point the light
out to her companions, but they are gone. She looked again, for just at
that moment, the flash of light broke through the gloom. But no, her
companions were no longer with her. Had they found their way to a place
of safety and had she been lost in the darkness, or had they been lost?
She tried to remember when she last saw them, but she could not. She had
a faint recollection of their having all been together sometime during
this awful night, or, was it night? She could not say. It might have
been years ago, so indefinite had grown the flight of time. She again
turned toward the light; yes, it was still there, and then she tried to
turn the head of her zebra towards the spot. Her arm was stiff and she
could hardly move, but she managed to slap the zebra on the side of the
neck, but he did not turn. He still wandered on in that aimless way,
seeming to heed nothing.
Oh, this was fearful. She tried again and again but the only response
the poor beast made, was to drop dead in his tracks. She felt him giving
way under her and made a last effort to save herself, but too late; the
beast caught her limbs as he fell and half burying her in the soft
ashes, held her fast. She tried hard and wrenched the tender limbs until
torn and bleeding, but to no purpose; she was held as secure as if tied
to the side of the beast. She was too exhausted to make much of an
effort, and the little she had made, had caused her to lose
consciousness for the moment.
The moments flew by but all unknown to the poor, insensible girl and
death seemed inevitable. There was no hope now, there could be none,
unless it came from where that mocking light still gleamed through the
darkness. But it would have been as helpful to the dying woman had it
been ten miles away. It was better then, that the poor wanderer should
never again wake to consciousness, for she would be saved the helpless
suffering caused by knowing that she was near help and yet was beyond
it.
The ashes still fell in torrents, the humid air was growing more
intolerable each moment with the hot steam and dust, and the blackness
had grown more intense. Yes, it could be felt, and here in the midst of
all its hellish night, lay Enola dying.
But no, what is that huge mass which has almost tramped on her, but
which stops just in time? It is Gip.
[Illustration: She tried hard and wrenched her limbs until torn and
bleeding, but to no purpose.—_Page 338._]