SEYMOUR’S FALL.
FOR some time the adventurers stood gazing downward from their lofty
perch in silence. Beyond the belt of forest they could see a strip of
sandy beach, and beyond this again, the sea, its shimmering surface
reflecting the rays of the sun like a gigantic mirror. No dwelling was
visible save in one place, where, in a forest clearing, a white house
stood, plainly discernible in the clear morning air against the dark
green of the foliage.
“See,” the scientist cried, “that is the English mission house.
Can we but get down, we shall receive a warm welcome from the
missionary, Mr. Travers; he is an old friend of mine.”
“You remember the legends which we heard from the natives,
Seymour,” he went on, “when we visited this island some years ago,
respecting the strange race of white giants which once inhabited this
place?”
“Perfectly,” responded the baronet.
“Well, I think our discoveries in the underworld bear out the
truth of the stories. Ever since I knew that the subterranean city was
called by the same name as this island my brain has been exercised to
account for the coincidence. Chenobi’s statement, that there was a
passage through a dead fire-mountain, by means of which his people
entered this land, gave me a clue to the mystery, and I formed a
theory as to the origin of the Ayutis. But I needed proof ere my idea
could become fact, and for that I had to wait until the present
moment.”
“And your theory is?” questioned Wilson.
“That the Ayutis once dwelt upon this island which is still named
after them; but, for some reason or other--probably through the
incursion of enemies--they were forced to take refuge in this
crater. They would discover the tunnel through which we came, and, in
the hope of finding a securer refuge, would explore it. The rest is
obvious.”
“But it must have been long ago,” said Seymour, “for the
buildings of the subterranean city are certainly many hundreds of
years old.”
“Probably at the time the inhabitants of the British Isles were
still savages,” returned Mervyn with a smile, “hunting the buffalo in
the swamps and living in caves or mud-huts. But enough of this; let us
see if there is any way down. I should like to see my friend, if
possible, before we return to look for Garth.”
“I guess that won’t be easy,” remarked the Yankee. “From what I
can see, we shall need a considerable length of rope ’fore we can get
down, and that’s a commodity we don’t happen to have on hand at
present. Still, we might as well prospect a bit.”
The Ayuti was strangely silent as the party moved round the
crater rim in an effort to find a spot where the cliff was scalable,
and Seymour--who walked beside him--rallied him at length
upon his abstraction.
“What ails you, Chenobi,” he asked, “that you are so silent?”
“I am perplexed, Fairhair,” replied the other. “Ere ye came to my
land I was content to lead the life of a hunter, to dwell alone, save
for my steed and hounds. But now I long for a friend. The time we have
spent together hath been very pleasant, but soon ye will return to
your own land, and I shall be alone once more.”
“Why not come with us?” burst out the baronet impulsively “there
is nothing to keep you down there.”
“First I must perform my vow,” returned Chenobi. “Listen, friend!
I had a brother once who was very dear to me. Though we twain were the
last of our race, yet were we happy, following the chase together, and
waging a grim vendetta against the wolf-people. But by craft Nordhu
the priest took my brother while I was absent from the city, and he
died beneath the jaws of Rahee. When I knew what had befallen, I vowed
before Ramouni that I would destroy the priest and Rahee, the sacred
beast. Therefore, until my vow be fulfilled, I cannot go with
you.”
“Then let me help you!” the baronet cried. “I, too, have a debt
against this same priest. Together we will accomplish his destruction
and that of Rahee, then ye shall return with us to our own land.”
“It is well,” returned the king, gripping Seymour’s hand; “we
will dwell together as brethren hereafter.”
Quickly the baronet communicated the gist of this conversation to
his friends, who all expressed their pleasure at the idea.
“We’ll have him stalking down Bond Street in patent leathers and
a topper in three months,” jested Wilson. “If only he’s got a few
pounds’ worth of treasure knocking around in that old city of his,
he’ll be able to do the foreign ‘dook’ in style.”
“I guess he’d take the shine outer some of your gilded
West-Enders, anyway,” retorted the American; “he’s the finest figure
of a man your humble ever struck. Say, Mervyn, looks to me as if
you’ll have to postpone your visit to your pard, the parson, till we
get a rope out of the old _Seal’s_ store-room. There don’t seem
no way down these yer plaguey cliffs.”
“We’ll complete the circuit of the crater, nevertheless,”
answered the scientist; “there may be a place where descent is
possible.”
From the woods below a confused murmur arose. It was the voices
of the creatures of the forest, blended by distance into one
harmonious whole. The chattering of monkeys, the shrill screaming of
parrots, and the melodious notes of other birds as they called to
their mates, all had a part in that chorus. And ever and anon a joyous
shout would ring upward from the beach, where a number of tiny figures
raced to and fro amid the surf. Mere black dots they looked to the
group on the crater rim, only to be discerned by careful observation
and much straining of the eyes. They were the native children enjoying
their early morning dip.
“Makes you wish you could take part in thet little picnic,”
drawled Silas. “I reckon a dip in the briny would be considerable
refreshing at this yer period. The sun’s gettin’ a darn sight too warm
to be pleasant.”
“I was just thinking the same,” Mervyn said, “and since there
appears to be no chance of descending to the lower ground without a
rope, we may as well get back into the crater.”
This advice was followed, and, ere long, the party were reclining
around the spring, recruiting their strength for the return journey.
There they waited in happy indolence until the sun had passed the
meridian; then they prepared to retrace their steps.
“Now to find Garth,” said the scientist.
“And wipe out Nordhu and the spider,” added Seymour.
“Do you think it wise?” Mervyn asked, “to penetrate again into
the dens of the wolf-men? You may not get off so easily another
time.”
“Wise or not,” returned the baronet doggedly, “I have given my
word to the Ayuti and I shall keep it. Of course, if you do not care
to come----”
“You know me better than that,” the scientist replied warmly; “we
have passed through too many perils together for you to deem me a
coward. Old though I am, I can still do my share when it comes to
fighting.”
“Forgive me, old man,” murmured Seymour penitently; “I did not
mean to suggest for a moment that I doubted your courage. You know
that!”
“Ay, I know, my friend,” was Mervyn’s reply; “don’t think I’m
offended by your words. But now let us push forward. The sooner we
find Garth the better.”
One last sight they had of the azure dome above them, of the
verdure-clothed walls of the ancient crater, then they plunged once
more into the darkness of the tunnel, eager to begin the search for
their missing comrade.
It was well that no presentiment of all that was to come crossed
their minds, no subtle warnings of the perils that awaited them,
through which they must pass ere they saw the daylight again, or even
their bold spirits might have quailed before the prospect. As it was,
knowing nothing, fearing nothing, they moved cheerily onward, making
the tunnel ring with their jests and laughter.
* * * * *
The underworld once more. At the foot of the cliff stairway stood
the four explorers, awaiting their guide, who was seeking his elk and
the hounds. At intervals they heard his piercing call, ringing out
clear through the death-like silence of the place. And not for long
did the Ayuti call in vain. Of a sudden a clamorous baying broke out,
punctuated by the bellowing of Muswani, and through the twilight, from
the direction of the distant lake, came the Ayuti’s pets.
Mounting, he quickly rejoined his friends, and the whole party
strode out across the plain.
At the lake, however, a check awaited them. Moving down to the
water’s edge, they looked round for the boat in which they had
previously crossed, and which they had left drawn up high and dry upon
the beach.
It was gone!
Thinking that they had perhaps mistaken the spot, they searched
up and down the shore for a considerable distance; but all their
seeking was vain. The skin boat had vanished.
“It’s the doing of the wolf-people,” asserted the Ayuti; “see,
the hounds have scented them,” and he pointed to the three great dogs,
who were sniffing along the shore, as though following a trail.
“Then there is nothing for it but to go round,” said Seymour, and
forthwith they started, keeping a sharp look-out for the creatures who
had robbed them of their boat. For two hours they strode forward along
the shore; then, rounding the head of the lake and splashing across a
shallow stream which here entered it, they struck off at a tangent
into the jungle, the growths of which were at this point somewhat
scattered, there being many open spaces between. Swiftly they moved,
yet cautiously, their ears alert to catch the slightest suspicious
sound. Once a herd of giant bison thundered across the track before
them at a gallop; then a number of elk were sighted, to whom Muswani
bellowed a challenge. Unheeding it, however, the brutes dashed swiftly
away and disappeared.
The jungle seemed alive with game, but the adventurers had no
time for the chase. Their only desire now was to get back to the city
with all speed, and to this end they pressed on at their best
pace.
Suddenly in the ground before them, its yawning mouth revealed by
a clump of fungi growing close to the verge, appeared a black chasm.
Some thirty feet by twelve in size, its walls descending sheer as
those of a well as far as eye could penetrate into its gloom, it was
as weird a place as one could wish to see; and from its dismal depths
arose the boom of a waterfall.
“It’s a ghostly hole,” remarked Seymour, pausing for an instant
on the brink, and peering downward. His friends, not noting that he
had stopped, still held on, until a cry from behind caused them to
pull up. Turning, they saw Seymour struggling on the very verge of the
abyss with a wolf-man of gigantic stature. The perilous position of
the struggling figures unnerved all but Chenobi. He, with a cry of
rage, leapt to earth and sprang to the baronet’s assistance. But, ere
he could reach the scene of the struggle Seymour and the savage
pitched over the brink of the abyss, and, still grappling madly,
hurtled into the gloomy depths below.
“Great Heaven!” Mervyn burst out despairingly; “he is lost! My
poor friend!”
Haverly’s eyes blazed with a terrible hate.
“Say, Mervyn,” he snapped, “we don’t stir a peg out of this
devil’s hole of a country till we’ve avenged poor Seymour. We’ll teach
these brutes a lesson they’ll never forget.”
Wilson’s impotent rage was pitiable to witness.
“The best and truest comrade ever man had,” he cried, “sent to
his death by a loathsome brute like that. Curse them all, I say!”
The Ayuti said no word, but his face was set stern and pitiless
as a mask, boding ill for any luckless savage that should cross his
track. With a mad, unreasoning passion raging in their hearts, the
four men turned from the abyss, whose black depths had swallowed their
friend, and resumed their journey.
Recklessly they moved now, caring little whether they aroused any
of the jungle beasts or no, their fury making them absolutely
fearless. Let them but find the _Seal,_ and renew their supply of
ammunition then they would invade the fastnesses of the wolfish brutes
at whose door lay Seymour’s death, and teach them a terrible
lesson.
Their journey was finished without further adventure, and at
length, reaching the city gate, they passed through and made their way
towards the temple.
Their hearts ached for their lost friend. They missed him sorely.
His cheery voice, his inspiring courage, had assisted them through
many a trying situation, and they could not bear to think that they
should never see him again.
Their minds were busy with gloomy thoughts of the future, when
they reached the temple steps. These--leaving the Ayuti to stable
the elk and chain up the hounds--they were ascending, when,
thrilling and terrible, through the silent streets came echoing the
cry of the wolf-men.
As it ceased, up the steps bounded Chenobi.
“The wolf-people!” he cried passionately. “Nordhu, the priest,
hath lost no time.”
Unslinging the great shield from his back, he took his stand upon
the topmost step, his battle-axe flashing like silver beneath the
light which shone from the jewel upon his brow. The next moment, into
the square below poured a vast throng of savages, and at sight of the
motionless figures upon the terrace they once more raised their
hideous cry.