The sun was, indeed, slowing up. The two men peered out at the door.
“It would be unlucky for us if it should not come so near to the earth
as it did on the other side,” whispered Branasko.
“I can hardly feel any motion to the thing at all,” replied the
American. “Look! for some reason it is not so dark below. I can see the
rocks. Surely we have already passed over the wall.”
“That's so,” returned the Alphian. “Come; we must be quick and watch our
opportunity to land. I can't imagine where the light comes from unless
it be from the people waiting for the arrival of the sun.” Every instant
the speed was lessening. Overhead the cables were beginning to creak
and groan, and, now and then, the great globe swung perilously near some
tall stony peak, or passed under a mighty stalactite. Slower and slower
it got till, when within a few feet of the ground, it stopped its onward
motion and only swung back and forth like a pendulum.
“Quick,” whispered Branasko, “we must get down while it is swinging, no
time to lose--not an instant!” And as the sun moved backward, with his
hand on the doorsill, he leaped to the earth. Johnston followed him.
They were not a moment too soon, for about fifty yards away they saw a
body of sixty or seventy men with lights in their hands hastening toward
them.
“Just in time,” exulted Branasko, and he quickly drew Johnston into a
little cave in the face of a cliff. Crouching behind a great rock, they
saw and heard the men as they approached.
Some of them walked around the sun, and two, evidently in authority,
entered the door. The others were placing ladders against the side of
the sphere, when suddenly there was a loud clattering in the interior, a
whirling of wheels under the platform above, and the surface of the sun
burst into light.
The two refugees were momentarily blinded. Branasko had the presence of
mind to quickly draw his companion down close to the earth behind the
rock. “They could see us in the light,” he whispered.
There was a joyous clamoring of voices among the men, and they withdrew
several yards to look at the sun. This drew them nearer the hiding-place
of the two refugees.
“Only an accident,” said a voice; “it won't happen again.”
Then one of them went into the sun and the lights died out. In a moment
the sun began to move. Slowly and majestically it swept over the rocky
earth, followed by the crowd, till it reached a great hole and sank into
it.
“Gone into the tunnel,” said the Alphian, as the crowd disappeared
behind the cliff.
“What are we to do now?” asked Johnston. “We certainly can't go through
with the sun.”
“Wait till the next trip,” grimly replied Branasko.
The rumbling noise from the big hole gradually died away, and the two
men left their hiding-place.
“What is that?” asked Johnston. He pointed to the west, where a red
light shone against the towering cliffs.
“It must be the internal fires,” answered Branasko, with a noticeable
shudder. “Let's go nearer; I have heard that there is a point near here
where one can look down into the Lake of Flame.”
“The Lake of Flame!” echoed the American, “What is that?” “It is where
all of the dead of Alpha is cast by the black 'vultures of death.'”
Johnston said nothing, for it was difficult to keep up with the Alphian,
who was bounding over rocks and dangerous fissures toward the red glow
in the distance.
At every step the atmosphere got warmer, and they detected a slight
gaseous odor in the air. Finally, after an arduous tramp of an hour,
they climbed up a steep hill and looked sharply down into a vast
bubbling lake of molten matter more than a thousand yards below.
Branasko noticed a stone weighing several tons evenly balanced on the
verge of the great gulf, and pushed it with both his hands. It rocked,
broke loose from its slender hold on the cliff and bounded out into the
red space. Down it went, lessen-ing as it sank till it became a mere
black speck and then disappeared.
“That's where the dead go,” said Branasko gloomily.
Just then the American, happening to glance up, saw something like a
huge black bird with outspread wings circling about in the red light
over the pit. Branasko saw it, too, and his face paled and a tremolo was
in his voice when he spoke.
“It is one of the 'vultures of death;' don't stir; we won't be seen if
we remain where we are!” The strange machine sank lower over the lake
of fire, till, as if buoyed up on the hot air, with faintly quivering
wings, it paused. A man opened a door of the black car and carelessly
threw out the bodies of a woman and a child.
The bodies whirled over and over and disappeared in the pit, and the man
closed the door. The machine then rose and gracefully winged its flight
to the east. In a moment others came with their grim burdens, and still
others, till the mouth of the pit was dark with them.
“Something has happened,” whispered Branasko, “some great calamity, for
surely so many people do not die in Alpha in a single day.”
For an hour they watched the coming and going of the vultures, till,
finally the last one hovered over the lake of fire. Suddenly the machine
swerved so near to Branasko and Johnston that they shrank close to the
earth to keep from being seen. Something was evidently wrong with the
machine, for there was a wild look of desperation on the driver's face
as he tugged excitedly at the pilot-wheel. But all his efforts only
caused the air-ship to dart irregularly from side to side, and, now and
then, to strike the rocks of the pit's mouth, to shoot up suddenly, or
to sink dangerously down toward the fire.
“He is losing control of it,” whispered Branasko, “he does not know what
to do. See, he is trying to lighten the load, by kicking out the body.”
That was true, and, as the machine made a sudden plunge toward the cliff
a few yards to the left of the refugees, the dead body, which the driver
had managed to move to the door with his feet, fell out and lodged upon
the edge of the cliff instead of falling into the fiery depths. The
machine bounded up a few yards and paused, now apparently under the
control of its driver. The man looked down hesitatingly at the corpse
for a moment and then lowered the machine to the sloping rock near where
the body lay. He alighted and cautiously crept down the steep incline
to the body. He raised it in his arms and was about to cast it from him
when his foot slipped, and with a cry of horror he fell with his burden
over the cliff's edge into the red abyss.
Johnston uttered an exclamation of horror, but Branasko was unmoved.
After a moment he rose, and carefully scanning the space overhead,
he crawled on hands and knees toward the machine. Johnston heard him
chuckling to himself and uttering spasmodic laughs, and he watched him
closely as he reached the machine. For several minutes he seemed to be
inspecting it critically, both inside and out; then he stood away from
it, a bold, black silhouette on a background of flame, and motioned the
American to come to him.
Johnston promptly, but not without many misgivings, obeyed his signal.
“What are you up to?” asked he, as the Alphian assisted him to rise from
his hands and knees.
Branasko touched the machine and smiled. His face was shining with
enthusiasm.
“The question of our returning to Alpha is settled,” he said
sententiously.
“How?”
“We can go in this.”
“Can you manage it?”
“Easily; that fellow must have been drunk; the machine is in good order,
I think.”
“When do you propose to start?” and the American eyed the funeral-car
dubiously.
“The night is before us; we could not get a better time.” As he spoke
he entered the car and laid his hand on the wheel. Johnston, obeying
his nod, followed, shuddering as he remarked the traces of blood on the
floor.
“All right!” Branasko turned the wheel slowly, and the wings outside
began to flap, and the car mounted into the air like a startled bird and
flew out quickly over the pit.
Branasko bit his lip, and Johnston heard him stifle an exclamation of
impatience. As for the American, he was at once thrilled and fascinated
by the awful sight below; he could now see beneath the overhanging mouth
of the pit, and look far down into a boundless lake of molten matter
that seemed as restless as an ocean in a storm.
Then the air became so hot he could hardly breathe. He looked at the
Alphian in alarm. The latter was whirling the wheel first one way and
then another with a startled look of fear in his eyes, and then Johnston
noticed that the walls of the pit were rising about them, and the black
canopy overhead rapidly receding.
They were sinking down into the fire.
Almost wild with terror, the American sprang toward the wheel, but
Branasko pushed him away roughly.
“Stand back,” he ordered gruffly. “It is the heat; let me alone!”
The American sank into his seat. The heat became more and more intense.
Both men were purple in the face, and the perspiration was rolling from
their bodies in streams. Down sank the machine.
“I can't manage it,” said Branasko hoarsely, “we'd as well give up.”
Just then Johnston noticed the mouth of a cave behind Branasko.
“Look,” he cried, “can't we get into it?”
Branasko looked over his shoulder, and, as he saw the cave, he uttered a
glad cry. He quickly turned the wheel and drew out a lever at his right.
The machine obeyed instantly; it swerved round suddenly and dived
into the cave. The cool air soon revived them, and Branasko had little
trouble in bringing the car to a resting-place on the rocky floor of the
cave. Before them hung impenetrable darkness, behind a curtain of red
light.
“We are in a pretty pickle now,” said Johnston despondently, as they
alighted from the car.
“Nothing to do but to make the best of it,” sighed Branasko.
“Perhaps this cave may lead out into some place of safety.”
Johnston's eyes had become somewhat accustomed to the gloom, and he
began to peer into the darkness.
“I see a light,” he exclaimed; “it cannot be a reflection from the fire
in the pit, for it is whiter.”
The Alphian gazed at it steadily for a moment, then he said decidedly:
“We must go and see what it is.” Without another word he started toward
the white, star-like spot, sliding his hand over the rocky wall, and
springing over a fissure in the floor.
Gradually the light grew brighter, till, as they suddenly rounded a
cliff, a grand sight burst upon their view. They found themselves in a
vast dome-shaped cavern, thousands of yards in diameter and height.
And almost in the centre of the floor, from a red and purple mound of
cooling lava, leapt a white stream of molten matter from the floor to
the dome. And in the black dome, where the lava turned to molten spray,
hung countless stalactites of every color known to the artistic eye. And
from the foot of the fountain ran a tortuous rivulet that lighted the
walls and roof of a narrow chamber that extended for miles down toward
the bowels of the earth.
Branasko was delighted.
“The king does not know of this,” he declared, “else he would make it
accessible to his people, and call it one of the wonders of Alpha.
By accidentally sinking into the pit we have discovered it. But,” he
concluded, “we must at once try to find some way out other than that by
which we came.”
They turned from the beautiful fountain, and, holding to each other's
hands, and aided by the light behind them, they stumbled laboriously
through the semi-darkness. Branasko's ears were very acute. He paused to
listen.
“Hark ye!” he cautioned.
The combined roar of the pit and the fountain of lava had sunk to a low
murmur, but ahead of them they now heard a rushing sound like a distant
tornado.
“Come on,” said the Alphian, and he drew his companion after him with an
eagerness the American was slow to understand. The light in the
cavern gradually grew brighter. By a circuitous route they were again
approaching the pit of fire, though it was still hidden from sight.
Finally they reached a point where the wind was blowing stiffly, and
further on a volume of cold spray suddenly dashed upon them and wet them
to the skin. And when their eyes had become accustomed to the rolling
mist, they saw a great lake, and pouring into it from high above was a
mighty waterfall.
“Mercy!” ejaculated the Alphian, in great alarm. “If this is salt water
we are lost. All Alpha will come to an end!”
“What do you mean?” And Johnston wondered if Branasko's trials and
struggle could have turned his brain.
“If it be salt water, then it has broken in from the ocean above Alpha,”
he explained. “The king has often said that not a drop of the ocean has
ever entered the great cavern.”
Branasko stooped and wet his hand in a little pool at his feet. “I am
almost afraid to taste it,” said he, holding his hand near his mouth.
“It would settle all our fates.” He waited a moment and then touched his
fingers to his tongue.
“Salt!” That was all he said for several moments. He folded his arms and
looked mutely toward the boiling lake. Presently he raised his eyes
to the great hole in the roof, and groaned: “The break is gradually
widening. These stones are freshly broken, and the great bowl is
filling.”
“It will fill all Alpha with water and drown every soul in it,” added
the terrified American.
“That, however, is not the most immediate danger,” said Branasko wisely.
“They would first suffocate, and later their bodies would be swallowed
up in the stomach of the earth.”
“What do you mean?”
Branasko shrugged his shoulders. “As soon as this bowl is filled with
water, which would not take many hours, it would run over into the lake
of fire and produce an explosion that would rend Alpha from end to end.”
“Who knows, it might turn the whole Atlantic into the centre of the
earth, and destroy the entire earth.” But Branasko was unable to grasp
the full magnitude of the remark, for to him the world was simply a
vast cavern lighted by human ingenuity. He fastened a narrow splinter
of stone upright in the shallow water at his feet, and, lying down on his
stomach with his eyes close to it, he studied it for several minutes.
When he got up, a desperate gleam was in his dark eyes.
“It is rising fast,” he said. “We must attempt to get to the capitol and
warn the king. It is possible that he may be able to stop the opening.
The only thing left to us is to try our machine again.”
Johnston found it hard to keep pace with him as he bounded out of the
mist and on toward the faint glow ahead. Reaching the flying machine
Branasko entered it and turned on a small electric light.
“Ah,” he grunted with satisfaction, “I have found a light. I can now see
what is the matter with it.”
Johnston stood outside and heard him hammering on the metal parts in the
car, and became so absorbed in thinking of the peril of their position
that he was startled when Branasko cried out to him:--“All right. I
think we can make it do; a pin has lost out, but perhaps I can hold the
piece in place with my foot. If only we can stand the heat of the pit
long enough to rise above it, we may escape.”
Johnston followed him into the car. Branasko seated himself firmly and
gave the wheel a little turn. Slowly the machine rose. “See!” cried
Branasko, “it is under control. We must not be too hasty. Now for the
pit!”
The heart of the American was in his mouth as the long black wings waved
up and down and the air-ship, like some live thing, shuddered and swept
gracefully out of the mouth of the cave into the glare and heat of the
pit.
“Hold your breath!” yelled Branasko, and he bent lower into the car to
escape the shower of hot ashes that was falling about them. Far out
over the lake in a straight line they glided, and there came to a sudden
halt. Johnston's eyes were glued on his companion's face. Branasko sat
doubled up, every muscle drawn, his eyes bulging from their sockets.
Would he be strong enough? To Johnston everything seemed in a whirl. The
walls of the pit were rising around them.