THE SCROLL OF NEOMRI.
“I RECKON,” remarked Haverly, munching a piece of fungus with manifest
relish, “you might as well explain how the blazes you got out of that
darned hole, Seymour, an’, incidentally, where you got your tin suit.
It’s a rig-out as kinder takes my eye.”
While the explorers slept Chenobi had procured a number of edible
fungi, to which they were now doing full justice.
“Well,” Seymour returned, in answer to the Yankee’s suggestion,
“it’s a longish yarn, but if you’d care to hear it, here goes.”
With that he launched into an account of his adventures, telling
of his fall, of his swim in the reservoir, the second meeting with his
wolfish enemy, and all that transpired afterwards. Open-mouthed, his
friends listened to his description of the hall of mummies and of the
armour chamber.
“But did not Chenobi know of these weapons?” Mervyn asked
amazedly. “He told us he had none but the spears taken from the
wolf-men, yet below there, you say, are weapons sufficient for an
army.”
Rapidly the scientist interpreted Seymour’s story to the king,
concluding by questioning him as to his knowledge of the existence of
the armoury.
“I knew that there was a secret passage,” observed the king, “but
it was the secret of the priests of Ramouni. None but they knew where
the dead were laid. When Nordhu destroyed the last of the priests, the
secret died with him.”
“We must examine these caverns presently,” remarked Mervyn,
attacking a fresh fungus.
“Say, Tom,” Haverly drawled, after some moments of silence, “what
game was the old priest playing when he took you out of the cell?”
The young engineer shuddered at the question.
“I remember nothing at all save having an overwhelming desire to
start a gun factory,” he replied.
“The hypnotic influence of the priest,” Mervyn explained. “He
attempted to force me to reveal to him ‘the secret of the
fire-weapons,’ as he called it. The fellow seems to have a longing for
firearms. It is unfortunate you remember nothing of your experience
down there, Wilson. There is evidently some work being carried on, and
upon a gigantic scale, too. Who’s for a visit to the vaults?” he went
on, rising. “Come, Seymour; you, as discoverer, must do the honours of
the place.”
“Very well,” returned the baronet, replacing his helmet, which he
had removed while he rested; “but I can assure you it’s a ghostly
hole. Are you coming, Chenobi?”
“Ay,” returned the Ayuti; “I am minded to look upon the last
resting-place of my forefathers.”
With that they all moved across the temple to where the great
stone door still stood ajar as Seymour had left it, and, descending
the steps, passed into the armoury. Their various exclamations showed
how differently they were affected by the sight of the gleaming pile
of weapons. What struck Haverly most was the enormous amount of wealth
represented by the jewels which studded the hilts of every sword and
dagger. Wilson was attracted by the exquisite workmanship of the
weapons; while Mervyn viewed them as curios, rare specimens to be
consigned to some museum as the relics of an extinct race.
“Marvellous!” he exclaimed again and again. “The civilisation of
ancient Greece was but little ahead of these Ayutis. A marvellous
race!”
Chenobi, with the eye of a warrior, was examining the armour, and
it was not long ere he was armed _cap-a-pie_ in the long-disused
mail of his ancestors. A noble figure he looked, too, as he stood
beside Seymour, smiling at the strangeness of the suit to his
limbs.
“Tin suits seem to be the fashion,” Haverly remarked with a grin
to Wilson.
“They save washing, you know,” returned the latter. “But,
seriously, Silas, what the dickens is this metal? Armour, weapons,
locks, and everything else seems to be made of the same non-rusting
stuff, and it’s a lot harder than steel. If you remember, the
wolf-men’s spears are the same; but what it is I know no more than
Adam.”
“I allow I ain’t in a position to enlighten you,” the millionaire
returned; “get it above ground, though, and there’s a fortune in it. I
guess we’ll call it ‘Mervynite,’ in honour of the professor.”
“What’s that?” the scientist asked at the mention of his
name.
“Silas suggests calling this new metal ‘Mervynite,’” Wilson
replied.
The professor shook his head with a laugh.
“You do me too much honour,” he said; “but now let us investigate
further,” and he passed into the hall of the dead.
Here, however, none cared to remain long, and, after a brief
examination of this and the next vault, which was devoted to the same
purpose, they passed through the tunnel on to the pavement of the
reservoir. The vastness of this work astonished them, and they would
fain have explored the whole of the great cavern wherein the water was
stored, but that prudence compelled them to return. They dared not
leave the terrace long unguarded, lest their enemies should surprise
them.
“See, you mentioned a plan, Seymour?” Mervyn remarked, as they
returned to the temple; “where did you put it?”
“It’s here,” answered the baronet, producing the casket from the
breast of his suit. “There are some hieroglyphics on the front;
perhaps you can manage to read ’em. I must confess they’re beyond
me.”
The scientist’s hand trembled as he took the parchment from its
case.
Spreading it out on the temple floor, he knelt down and perused
it eagerly for a few seconds. Then a glad cry broke from his lips:
“It’s the key, Seymour! The explanation to all the mystery!
Listen, and I will read.”
Forthwith the scientist commenced to read from the faded
manuscript, his eyes glowing with enthusiasm as he translated the
strange Ayuti signs.
“The scroll of Neomri,” he began, “son of Nazra, of the House of
Lauma, chief priests of Ramouni since the beginning of all
things.”
At the mention of the strange names Chenobi’s eyes flashed, and,
drawing nearer, he glanced over Mervyn’s shoulder as he went on:
“To him that readeth, greeting. Let it be known to you that the
priestly scroll wherein was set down all that befel since the first
days was destroyed by an evil chance in the hour when the judgment of
Ramouni was visited upon his people. Yet such of that which was
therein writ as hath come to my knowledge, I here set down.
“In the beginning Ayuti was a mighty kingdom, wherein ruled many
mighty princes. Fair was the land to look upon, and Ramouni warmed it
with the beams from his all-seeing eye. Day by day arose the prayers
and incense of the priests, that the smile of Ramouni should not be
removed from his people. And it was well with the land, for the people
were content.
“Yet it fell that, as the years went by, they grew careless,
attending not to the voice of the priests, nor hearkening to their
counsel. Empty was the temple of Ramouni; neither was the sound of
worship heard any more before the altar. In sloth were the days
passed, and in revelry the nights. Then Ramouni waxed wroth, and hid
his face from his people, and a thick cloud of smoke arose from the
earth many days, whereby much people were choked. The waters of the
sea, also, overflowed the land, and vast rents appeared in the face of
the earth. The earth quaked exceedingly, and there were sounds like
unto thunder. So for many days it continued.
“Then the remnant which was left, being but three score male and
female, fled unto the refuge of the dead fire-mountain, whence they
dared not come forth again, for the land of my people was become a
desert, wherein grew no green thing. And it chanced that they found a
passage in the heart of the mountain and ventured therein. Three days
they journeyed, and on the fourth the passage ended. Before them was
darkness; but, being like to starve for food, they were bold, and
lowered a rope, down which one was sent and found firm ground
below.
“Then sent they down a second, that the twain might search out
the land. In a while they returned, telling that they had seen a great
jungle of fearsome-looking plants wherein abode many monstrous beasts.
Caring not so that they might find a place to dwell in and withal food
to eat, the rest went down into this strange land. My hand groweth
weary to write of all they suffered hereafter; how they found the
fearsome barbarians which dwelt in the land; of the mighty beasts they
fought and overcame. They grew and multiplied into an exceeding great
people, taking unto themselves as slaves many of the barbarians, who,
for all their loathsome appearance, were willing enough to obey.
“Unto these my people taught the language of Ayuti, they having
no speech of their own save queer howling cries, like unto the voice
of a wolf, for the which cause called they them ‘Wolf-people,’ being
of a mind that they were perchance arisen from wolves.”
Here Mervyn paused and shook his head decidedly.
“I guess the evolution theory’s considerable older than we
thought,” said Haverly, “accordin’ to that. But wade in, Mervyn; the
old man can tell a decent yarn.”
Once more the scientist bent over the manuscript:
“With the aid of these their slaves my people builded a great
city of stone, and in the midst a mighty temple to Ramouni. An image
also they built, carven cunningly, and set it up that it might face
the passage through which they came. And each day the light of Ramouni
fell upon the eye of the image.
“Hereafter they found a strange metal which they digged from the
heart of the hills. And they made great mines, and set up machines for
the working of the metal; and they prospered. The strongest among them
chose they for king, and Bazoo, of the House of Lauma, was priest in
the temple of Ramouni. Now it fell that, as time passed, the
wolf-people whom they kept for slaves grew in cunning as they grew in
numbers. A mighty people they were, that knew not fear.
“And an Ayuti, Nordhu by name, an evil-doer, roused them to
rebel; and at a time when the people of the city held high revel, the
slaves armed themselves, and, falling upon their masters, slew them
all, save a few. From these latter I, even Neomri, am descended, being
born to Madro, wife of Nazra.
“While I write the fear is upon me that ere long our race will be
nought but a name; for we be but a few, in all not more than a score,
and we hide amid the ruins of our city, fearing the creatures which
once were our slaves. Yet I would that our race might be preserved,
for we are an ancient people. Nevertheless, let the will of Ramouni be
done.”
The scientist’s voice trailed away into silence, and he sat
pondering for a while over what he had read.
“The old chap’s a bit disappointing,” Seymour broke in at length.
“He says nothing of the existence of this phosphorescent liquid, nor
yet of the bell which tolls when the sunlight strikes the idol’s
eye.”
“He says enough to prove my theory,” Mervyn replied abstractedly;
“save that it was a volcanic outbreak, and not an incursion of
enemies, which drove them to the shelter of the crater, my theory is
identical with the story on this manuscript. Nordhu, the priest, must
be the descendant of Nordhu the evil-doer, mentioned here. The caverns
in the hills are undoubtedly the ancient mines in which the wolf-men
would take up their habitation after the massacre. We may also take it
for granted that the work still carried on down there is the making of
this same strange metal.”
“Mervynite?” Haverly put in.
“Yes, Mervynite, if you like, Silas,” returned the scientist with
a smile.
“Talking of Nordhu,” remarked the baronet, “reminds me that we
must decide on the fate of our prisoner.”
Turning, he spoke for some moments with Chenobi.
“The king says the priest may choose the manner of his death,” he
announced.
“Must he die?” Mervyn questioned, his mild nature revolting
against the idea of an execution.
“He must die!” repeated Seymour sternly. “Both Chenobi and I have
sworn it. The fiend murdered our friend’s brother, and it was not his
fault he did not add our names to his list of victims. God alone knows
how many poor wretches he has sacrificed to that devilish spider! So
vile a monster is not fit to live.”
Although his own good judgment told him that Nordhu merited
death, yet the idea of executing him could not be other than repugnant
to the scientist’s nature. It seemed too much like cold-blooded
murder.
“But----” he began again.
“No ‘buts,’ if you please,” retorted the baronet sharply; “his
death is decided upon. It only remains for him to choose the manner of
it. Come, Chenobi, let us bring our prisoner forth.”
Together the two men left the temple. Once more Chenobi touched
the spring in the masonry; then, as the door swung open, a savage cry
burst from his lips. The chamber was empty--_Nordhu had
vanished!_