A BREATHLESS MARGIN
Grenville returned for his jugs and the torch, impatient to be
employed. The clay receptacles were useless on the hill, but he
carried them back to the gallery, to leave them on the floor. The
lower rock-and-wattle barrier he carefully readjusted to its place, and
secured with the bar of wood.
"The water below is rather poor," he informed Elaine, when he once more
rejoined her above. "I believe I can reach a supply considerably
better by building a bamboo platform that will give me access to a
larger and fresher pool."
Elaine was thinking of another, more personal danger.
"Do you think these creatures have visited the cave?"
"If they have, they left no signs."
"You are not afraid they may go there soon--and discover the end of
this passage?"
Grenville shook his head. "I only wish they would try--every man Jack
of them hunting there at once! If it weren't for this smoke, I should
try to lure them in!"
Glad of an occupation, no matter how forlorn the hope it afforded, he
went promptly to work fetching all of the largest bamboo stems from his
generous supply, together with wood for fuel and many lengths of
creeper. By the time these various transfers were complete, he had
left but little of their meager possessions in or about the former camp.
Bombs, fuses, torch-wood, and much of his extra powder he now proceeded
to store along the wall, and in a niche of the gallery, where they
should neither obstruct the passage under foot, nor yet be exposed to
possible accident from necessary fire. The terrace continued to be
wrapped in smoke, as on the previous day. Instructing Elaine to call
him instantly, should any attempt be made by the Dyaks to bridge the
gap on the trail, he now began the laborious task of carrying one after
another of the bamboo stems down the passage to the cave.
The stems were large, some of them fully six inches through at the
butt, and while they were never heavy, yet the twelve or more feet of
length to which he had reduced them made their transfer through the
narrow and angular gallery an awkward and troublesome maneuver, with
only a torch for light.
He had made up his mind that six of these stems, lashed together in
pairs, or even laid side by side, and slightly separated, would
complete a float on which he could readily find sufficient buoyancy for
himself and a couple of water jugs, more especially as he thoroughly
intended to stretch himself out flat, full length, upon it while moving
about the shore. He felt, moreover, it must be so light he could not
only launch it from the cave, but even withdraw it inside again, should
danger so require.
Fortunately, he reflected, none of the stems was split. Each comprised
a set of water-tight compartments that a load of double his avoirdupois
could hardly sink beneath the surface. If he found that four of the
lengths would answer as well as six, he would certainly use no more.
As he stumbled and edged his way downward once again, with the last of
his load colliding here and there along the wall, he thought, perhaps,
it might be possible to test the float in the salty pool that remained
in the basin of the cavern. Could this be done, much time would be
saved, and no risk of being discovered at his work need be incurred.
For his greater convenience in assembling materials and tools, he
placed both his torch and final burden for a moment within the passage,
when he came once more to the cave. Three of the bamboo stems were
then in the cavern proper, while all of the creeper and the other
essentials remained on the gallery floor. He paused to wipe his brow,
for he was sweating. His mouth was dry with a growing thirst that
refused to be forgotten.
He had barely stepped out to survey the space for the likeliest site
convenient to his needs, when, abruptly, a human voice sent a murmurous
echo through the hollow tomb. A sharp command immediately
followed--all in some barbaric tongue. But before the noise of
something dully scraping on the outside ledge could add its
confirmation to the somewhat belated alarm, Grenville was certain that
a Dyak boat had come to the cavern, and its crew were about to land.
Instantly pouncing upon the nearest length of his precious bamboo, he
darted with it to the passage. The second stem struck on the inner
wall, not only delaying his movements, but sounding a thud that he felt
must be heard through all the vast bulk of the hill.
Yet he dared not either betray the fact he had been in the cave, or
lose that final pole. Once more, as he heard the Dyaks coming, and
even beheld a shadow, preceding its owner to the place, he darted
silently out at his door to lay hold of the last remaining stem.
He was certain its end must be plainly seen, as the Dyaks now rose
above the ledge. A sound that he made seemed incredibly loud--and his
door was out where the boatmen's torch must play a red light upon it!
He stumbled across his materials, now congesting his narrow space. He
thrust out an arm, laid hold of his door, and had barely drawn it
across the opening when the glare of the torch the Dyaks held sent red
rays in upon him.
Not another move could he make without betraying his presence near at
hand. To adjust the barrier solidly in place might readily prove
fatal. To leave it loose, a palpable sham where all should appear as
solid wall, was scarcely less of a risk.
Holding it firmly, lest it slip, and peering breathlessly out through
the chink which it failed by an inch to cover, Grenville beheld three
half-naked forms, incredibly magnified and diabolized not only by the
torch they held, but also by the shadows they cast upon the rocks, and
the general aspect of the region, black as Inferno. Three thinner,
more furtive fiends of the nether abyss would have been hard, indeed,
to imagine. In the tallest Sidney recognized the chief.
As they turned about to scan the wall, and the breach he had made with
his explosion, the whites of their eyes and the gleam of their teeth
rendered all of their faces strangely hideous, with the yellowish glare
projecting them indistinctly against the ebon of the tomb.
That their keen, malicious eyes must instantly discover the wall's
decided imperfection, where the gallery door was askew, seemed to
Grenville inescapable. They motioned towards him, and down at the
floor, in manifest wonder that the place was no longer filled with
water. Their voices were low. They spoke as if with a certain awe in
which the place was held.
It seemed to Grenville they would never go about their business. His
muscles ached with the unaccustomed strain put upon them to support the
heavy door. How long he could stand there, making no sound, and
permitting no movement of the barrier, was a question he could not
answer. If only his cleaver had not been dropped around the bend,
beside his torch, he would almost have dared spring out on the
unsuspecting Dyaks to brain them where they stood!
At thought of his torch, redly glowing, in beyond, he sweated anew,
convinced that as soon as the boatmen grew accustomed to the darkness
of the cavern, these torch rays must impinge upon their vision, and
instantly divulge the secret of the passage to the top.
One of the Dyaks now approached even closer than before. Savagely
determined he would slay the man, should he raise a hand, or otherwise
give the slightest intimation that the door was seen at last, Sidney
grew hot in his farthest pulse, and became as tense as a tight-coiled
spring as he steadied to leap from the place.
But the man in command now grumbled another of his orders. The fellow
so near discovery and death turned slowly about, made one more gesture
towards the shattered ledge, and followed the other where they made
their way across the uneven floor.
Until they had passed to a second ridge, where their feet disturbed a
few loose fragments that rattled down towards the base, Grenville made
not the slightest move to alter his position. Then cautiously, without
a sound, he adjusted the door to its proper place and secured it with
the bar.
He still had a chink through which to peer, but he first moved back to
his blazing torch and smothered its light on the rocks. When he once
more groped his way to the tiny opening, the Dyaks had come to the
rifled chamber. He could hear their exclamations of disgust and anger,
but only their torch could be seen.
Aware they might still return to his wall and discover the one
remaining retreat where Elaine was even remotely secure, Grenville was
seized with an irresistible impulse to destroy the fiends on the
instant, if such a denouement could be rendered possible.
He turned about to grope his way upward and secure a bomb as swiftly as
the darkness would permit. Over the basket of treasure, some time
since deposited there by the wall, he blundered, and fell to his knees.
The thing was in the way. He took it up impatiently and carried it
well up the passage to one of the broadest galleries, where he placed
it again on the floor.
With one of the smallest of his bombs, and carrying one of his
firebrands only for a torch, he once more descended, feeling his way
along the wall, eager to regain the lower entrance, lest it might be
already discovered. He had been delayed in securing the brand, without
which his bomb was useless. He had told Elaine his measures were only
of defense.
They were hardly even that. When he came to the door he could see no
torch, for the Dyaks had gone, in new exasperation, and their voices
echoed back from the ledge. The impulse to rush out thus belatedly,
ignite his fuse, and hurl his engine of destruction upon them, or their
boat, was one he curbed with difficulty, at the dictates of sober
sense. For a dozen reasons the maneuver might fail to destroy the
murderous trio. And should one escape to advertise the fact he was
somehow concealed in the cavern, no possible cleverness could avail to
protect Elaine or himself.
Should a larger number come to the cave---- But he knew it was hardly
likely, now, that even a few would return. If the Dyaks had, as he
felt convinced, concluded that the open niche meant that the tomb had
been pillaged, that the treasure was gone, either taken by himself or
another, they would have no conceivable reason left for courting
disaster here again. For unless they should dare approach the place by
night, it was only under cover of the rolling smoke they would risk
attack from above.
He even thought of hastening back to the terrace now to drop a bomb
upon them. It was only a recollection of the all-engulfing smoke that
halted this intent. Instead he dislodged the wooden bar, removed the
door to his secret gallery, and crept out to glide to the breach in the
ledge for a possible view of the boatmen.
Only the disappearing end of their craft was shown through the fumes
that veiled the tide. It was Grenville's useful catamaran, as he
instantly discerned. A new resentment burned in his blood, but left
him as helpless as before.