underground world of the Buried People, his dominant thought, of course,
had been that of escape; but the further into the bowels of the earth he
was carried the more hopeless appeared the outcome of any venture in
this direction, yet he never for once abandoned it though he realized
that he must wait until they had reached the place of his final
confinement before he could intelligently consider any plan at all.
How far the tireless Coripi bore Tanar the Sarian could not guess, but
presently they emerged into a dimly lighted grotto, before the narrow
entrance to which squatted a dozen Coripies. Within the chamber were a
score more and one human being—a man with sandy hair, close-set eyes and
a certain mean, crafty expression of countenance that repelled the
Sarian immediately.
“Here is another,” said the Coripi who had carried Tanar to the cavern,
and with that he dumped the Sarian unceremoniously upon the stone floor
at the feet of the dozen Coripies who stood guard at the entrance.
With teeth and claws they severed the bonds that secured his wrists and
ankles.
“They come slowly,” grumbled one of the guards. “How much longer must we
wait?”
“Old Xax wishes to have the greatest number that has ever been
collected,” remarked another of the Coripies.
“But we grow impatient,” said the first speaker. “If he makes us wait
much longer he may be one of the number here himself.”
“Be careful,” cautioned one of his fellows. “If Xax heard that you had
said such a thing as that the number of our prisoners would be increased
by one.”
As Tanar arose to his feet, after his bonds were severed, he was pushed
roughly toward the other inmates of the room, who he soon was to
discover were prisoners, like himself, and quite naturally the first to
approach him was the other human captive.
“Another,” said the stranger. “Our numbers increase but slowly, yet each
one brings us closer to our inevitable doom and so I do not know whether
I am sorry to see you here or glad because of the human company that I
shall now have. I have eaten and slept many times since I was thrown
into this accursed place and always nothing but these hideous, mumbling
things for company. God, how I hate and loathe them, yet they are in the
same predicament as we for they, too, are doomed to the same fate.”
“And what may that be?” asked Tanar.
“You do not know?”
“I may only guess,” replied the Sarian.
“These creatures seldom get flesh with warm blood in it. They subsist
mostly upon the fish in their underground rivers and upon the toads and
lizards that inhabit their caves. Their expeditions to the surface
ordinarily yield nothing more than the carcasses of dead beasts, yet
they crave flesh and warm blood. Heretofore they had killed their
condemned prisoners one by one as they were available, but this plan
gave only a mouthful of flesh to a very few Coripies. Recently Xax hit
upon the plan of preserving his own condemned and the prisoners from the
outer world until he had accumulated a sufficient number to feast the
entire population of the cavern of which he is chief. I do not know how
many that will be, but steadily the numbers grow and perhaps it will not
be long now before there are enough of us to fill the bellies of Xax’s
tribe.”
“Xax!” repeated Tanar. “Was he the creature sitting in the niche in the
great cavern to which I was first taken?”
“That was Xax. He is ruler of that cavern. In the underground world of
the Buried People there are many tribes, each of which occupies a large
cavern similar to that in which you saw Xax. These tribes are not always
friendly and the most of the prisoners that you see in this cavern are
members of other tribes, though there are a few from the tribe of Xax
who have been condemned to death for one reason or another.”
“And there is no escape?” asked Tanar.
“None,” replied the other. “Absolutely none; but tell me who are you and
from what country? I cannot believe that you are a native of Amiocap,
for what Amiocapian is there who would need ask questions about the
Buried People?”
“I am not of Amiocap,” replied Tanar. “I am from Sari, upon the far
distant mainland.”
“Sari! I never heard of such a country,” said the other. “What is your
name?”
“Tanar, and yours?”
“I am Jude of Hime,” replied the man. “Hime is an island not far from
Amiocap. Perhaps you have heard of it.”
“No,” said Tanar.
“I was fishing in my canoe, off the coast of Hime,” continued Jude,
“when a great storm arose which blew me across the waters and hurled me
upon the coast of Amiocap. I had gone into the forest to hunt for food
when three of these creatures fell upon me and dragged me into their
underworld.”
“And you think that there is no escape?” demanded Tanar.
“None—absolutely none,” replied Jude.
VIII
MOW
Imprisonment in the dark, illy lighted, poorly ventilated cavern weighed
heavily upon Tanar of Pellucidar, and he knew that it was long for he
had eaten and slept many times and though other Coripi prisoners were
brought from time to time there seemed not to be enough to satisfy Xax’s
bloody craving for flesh.
Tanar had been glad of the companionship of Jude, though he never
thoroughly understood the man, whose sour and unhappy disposition was so
unlike his own. Jude apparently hated and mistrusted everyone, for even
in speaking of the people of his own island he mentioned no one except
in terms of bitterness and hatred, but this attitude Tanar generously
attributed to the effect upon the mind of the Himean of his long and
terrible incarceration among the creatures of the underworld, an
experience which he was fully convinced might easily affect and
unbalance a weak mind.
Even in the breasts of some of the Coripi prisoners Tanar managed to
arouse sentiments somewhat analogous to friendship.
Among the latter was a young Coripi named Mow from the grotto of Ictl,
who hated all the Coripies from the grotto of Xax and seemed suspicious
of those from other grottoes.
Though the creatures seemed endowed with few human attributes or
characteristics, yet it was apparent to Tanar that they set a certain
value upon companionship, and being denied this among the creatures of
his own kind Mow gradually turned to Tanar, whose courageous and happy
spirit had not been entirely dampened by his lot.
Jude would have nothing to do with Mow or any other of the Coripies and
he reproached Tanar for treating them in a friendly manner.
“We are all prisoners together,” Tanar reminded him, “and they will
suffer the same fate as we. It will neither lessen our danger nor add to
our peace of mind to quarrel with our fellow prisoners, and I, for my
part, find it interesting to talk with them about this strange world
which they inhabit.”
And, indeed, Tanar had learned many interesting things about the
Coripies. Through his association with Mow he had discovered that the
creatures were color blind, seeing everything in blacks and whites and
grays through the skin that covered their great eyeballs. He learned
also that owing to the restricted amount of food at their command it had
been necessary to restrict their number, and to this end it had become
customary to destroy women who gave birth to too many children, the
third child being equivalent to a death sentence for the mother.
He learned also that among these unhappy Coripies there were no
diversions and no aim in life other than eating. So eager and unvaried
was their diet of fish and toads and lizards that the promise of warm
flesh was the only great event in the tiresome monotony of their deadly
existence.
Although Mow had no words for love and no conception of its
significance, Tanar was able to gather from his remarks that this
sentiment did not exist among the Buried People. A mother looked upon
each child as a threat to her existence and a prophecy of death, with
the result that she loathed children from birth; nor is this strange
when the fact is considered that the men chose as the mothers of their
children the women whom they particularly loathed and hated, since the
custom of destroying a woman who had borne three children deterred them
from mating with any female for whom they might have entertained any
degree of liking.
When not hunting or fishing the creatures squatted around upon their
haunches staring stupidly and sullenly at the floor of their cavern.
“I should think,” said Tanar to Mow, “that, confronted by such a life,
you would welcome death in any form.”
The Coripi shook his head. “I do not want to die,” he said.
“Why?” demanded Tanar.
“I do not know,” replied Mow. “I simply wish to live.”
“Then I take it that you would like to escape from this cavern, if you
could,” suggested Tanar.
“Of course I should like to escape,” said Mow, “but if I try to escape
and they catch me they will kill me.”
“They are going to kill you anyway,” Tanar reminded him.
“Yes, I never thought of that,” said Mow. “That is quite true; they are
going to kill me anyhow.”
“Could you escape?” asked Tanar.
“I could if I had someone to help me,” said Mow.
“This cavern is filled with men who will help you,” said Tanar.
“The Coripies from the grotto of Xax will not help me,” said Mow,
“because if they escape there is no place where they may go in safety.
If Xax recaptures them they will be killed, and the same is true if the
ruler of any other grotto captures them.”
“But there are men from other grottoes here,” insisted Tanar, “and there
are Jude and I.”
Mow shook his head. “I would not save any of the Coripies. I hate them.
They are all enemies from other grottoes.”
“But you do not hate me,” said Tanar, “and I will help you, and so will
Jude.”
“I need but one,” said Mow, “but he must be very strong, stronger than
you, stronger than Jude.”
“How strong?” asked Tanar.
“He must be able to lift my weight,” replied the Coripi.
“Look then,” said Tanar, and seizing Mow he held him high above his
head.
When he had set him down upon the floor again the Coripi gazed at Tanar
for some time. “You are, indeed, strong,” he said.
“Then let us make our plans for escape,” said Tanar.
“Just you and I,” said the Coripi.
“We must take Jude with us,” insisted Tanar.
Mow shrugged his shoulders. “It is all the same to me,” he said. “He is
not a Coripi, and if we become hungry and cannot find other food we can
eat him.”
Tanar made no reply as he felt that it would be unwise to voice his
disgust at this proposal and he was sure that he and Jude together could
prevent the Coripi from succumbing to his lust for flesh.
“You have noticed at the far end of the cavern, where the shadows are so
dense, that one may scarcely see a figure moving there?” asked Mow.
“Yes,” said Tanar.
“There the dim shadows hide the rough, rocky walls and the ceiling there
is lost in total darkness, but in the ceiling is an opening that leads
through a narrow shaft into a dark tunnel.”
“How do you know this?” asked Tanar.
“I discovered it once when I was hunting. I came upon a strange tunnel
leading from that along which I was making my way to the upper world. I
followed it to see where it led and I came at last to the opening in the
ceiling of this cavern, from whence one may see all that takes place
below without being himself seen. When I was brought here as a prisoner
I recognized the spot immediately. That is how I know that one may
escape if he has proper help.”
“Explain,” said Tanar.
“The wall beneath the opening is, as I have discovered, inclined
backward from the floor to a considerable height and so rough that it
can easily be scaled to a little ledge beneath the opening in the
ceiling, but just so far beneath that one may not reach it unaided. If,
however, I could lift you into the opening you could, in turn, reach
down and help me up.”
“But how may we hope to climb the wall without being seen by the
guards?” demanded Tanar.
“That is the only chance of capture that we shall have to take,” replied
Mow. “It is very dark there and if we wait until another prisoner is
brought and their attention is diverted we may be able to succeed in
reaching the opening in the ceiling before we are discovered, and once
there they cannot capture us.”
Tanar discussed the plan with Jude, who was so elated at the prospect of
escape that he almost revealed a suggestion of happiness.
And now commenced an interminable wait for the moment when a new
prisoner might be brought into the cavern. The three conspirators made
it a practice to spend most of their time in the shadows at the far end
of the cavern so that the guards might become accustomed to seeing them
there, and as no one other than themselves was aware of the opening in
the ceiling at this point no suspicions were aroused, as the spot where
they elected to be was at the opposite end of the cavern from the
entrance, which was, in so far as the guards knew, the only opening into
the cavern.
Tanar, Jude and Mow ate and slept several times until it began to appear
that no more prisoners ever would be brought to the cavern; but if no
prisoners came, news trickled in and one item filled them with such
alarm that they determined to risk all upon the hazard of a bold dash
for freedom.
Some Coripies coming to relieve a part of the guard reported that it had
been with difficulty that Xax had been able to suppress an uprising
among his infuriated tribesmen, many of whom had conceived the
conviction that Xax was saving all of the prisoners for himself.
The result had been that a demand had been made upon Xax for an
immediate feast of flesh. Perhaps already other Coripies were on their
way to conduct the unfortunate prisoners to the great cavern of Xax,
where they would be torn limb from limb by the fierce, hunger-mad
throng.
And, true enough, there had been time for but one hunger before the
party arrived to conduct them back to the main grotto of the tribe.
“Now is the time,” whispered Tanar to Mow and Jude, seeing that the
guard was engaged in conversation with the newcomers, and in accordance
with their previously made plan the three started without an instant’s
hesitation to scale the far wall of the cavern.
Upon a little ledge, twenty-five feet from the floor, Tanar halted, and
an instant later Mow and Jude stood upon either side of him. Without a
word the Coripi lifted Tanar to his shoulders and in the darkness above
Tanar groped for a handhold.
He soon found the opening into the shaft leading into the tunnel above,
and, too, he found splendid handholds there so that an instant later he
had drawn himself up into the opening and was sitting upon a small ledge
that entirely encircled it.
Bracing himself, he reached down and seized the hand of Jude, who was
standing upon Mow’s shoulders, and drew the Himean to the ledge beside
him.
At that instant a great shouting arose below them, and glancing down
Tanar saw that one of the guards had discovered them and that now a
general rush of both guard and prisoners was being made in their
direction.
Even as Tanar reached down to aid Mow to the safety of the shaft’s
mouth, some of the Coripies were already scaling the wall below them.
Mow hesitated and turned to look at the enemies clambering rapidly
toward him.
The ledge upon which Mow stood was narrow and the footing precarious.
The surprise and shock of their discovery may have unnerved him, or, in
turning to look downward he may have lost his balance, but whatever it
was Tanar saw him reel, topple and then lunge downward upon the
ascending Coripies, scraping three of them from the wall in his descent
as he crashed to the stone floor below, where he lay motionless.
Tanar turned to Jude. “We cannot help him,” he said. “Come, we had
better get out of this as quickly as possible.”
Feeling for each new handhold and foothold the two climbed slowly up the
short shaft and presently found themselves in the tunnel, which Mow had
described. Darkness was absolute.
“Do you know the way to the surface?” asked Jude.
“No,” said Tanar. “I was depending upon Mow to lead us.”
“Then we might as well be back in the cavern,” said Jude.
“Not I,” said Tanar, “for at least I am satisfied now that the Coripies
will not eat me alive, if they eat me at all.”
Groping his way through the darkness and followed closely by Jude, Tanar
crept slowly through the Stygian darkness. The tunnel seemed
interminable. They became very hungry and there was no food, though they
would have relished even the filthy fragments of decayed fish that the
Coripies had hurled them while they were prisoners.
“Almost,” said Tanar, “could I eat a toad.”
They became exhausted and slept, and then again they crawled and
stumbled onward. There seemed no end to the interminable, inky corridor.
For long distances the floor of the tunnel was quite level, but then
again it would pitch downward, sometimes so steeply that they had
difficulty in clinging to the sloping floor. It turned and twisted as
though its original excavators had been seldom of the same mind as to
the direction in which they wished to proceed.
On and on the two went; again they slept, but whether that meant that
they had covered a great distance, or that they were becoming weak from
hunger, neither knew.
When they awoke they went on again for a long time in silence, but the
sleep did not seem to have refreshed them much, and Jude especially was
soon exhausted again.
“I cannot go much further,” he said. “Why did you lure me into this
crazy escapade?”
“You need not have come,” Tanar reminded him, “and if you had not you
would by now be out of your misery since doubtless all the prisoners
have long since been torn to pieces and devoured by the Coripies of the
grotto of Xax.”
Jude shuddered. “I should not mind being dead,” he said, “but I should
hate to be torn to pieces by those horrible creatures.”
“This is a much nicer death,” said Tanar, “for when we are sufficiently
exhausted we shall simply sleep and awake no more.”
“I do not wish to die,” wailed Jude.
“You have never seemed very happy,” said Tanar. “I should think one as
unhappy as you would be glad to die.”
“I enjoy being unhappy,” said Jude. “I know that I should be most
miserable were I happy and anyway I should much rather be alive and
unhappy than dead and unable to know that I was unhappy.”
“Take heart,” said Tanar. “It cannot be much further to the end of this
long corridor. Mow came through it and he did not say that it was so
great a length that he became either exhausted or hungry and he not only
traversed it from end to end in one direction, but he had to turn around
and retrace his steps after he reached the opening into the cavern which
we left.”
“The Coripies do not eat much; they are accustomed to starving,” said
Jude, “and they sleep less than we.”
“Perhaps you are right,” said Tanar, “but I am sure that we are nearing
the end.”
“I am,” said Jude, “but not the end that I had wished.”
Even as they discussed the matter they were moving slowly along, when
far ahead Tanar discerned a slight luminosity.
“Look,” he said, “there is light. We are nearing the end.”
The discovery instilled new strength into both the men and with
quickened steps they hastened along the tunnel in the direction of the
promised escape. As they advanced, the light became more apparent until
finally they came to the point where the tunnel they had been traversing
opened into a large corridor, which was filled with a subdued light from
occasional patches of phosphorescent rock in walls and ceiling, but
neither to the right nor the left could they see any sign of daylight.
“Which way now?” demanded Jude.
Tanar shook his head. “I do not know,” he said.
“At least I shall not die in that awful blackness,” wailed Jude, and
perhaps that factor of their seemingly inevitable doom had weighed most
heavily upon the two Pellucidarians, for, living as these people do
beneath the brilliant rays of a perpetual noonday sun, darkness is a
hideous and abhorrent thing to them, so unaccustomed are they to it.
“In this light, however slight it may be,” said Tanar, “I can no longer
be depressed. I am sure that we shall escape.”
“But in which direction?” again demanded Jude.
“I shall turn to the right,” said Tanar.
Jude shook his head. “That probably is the wrong direction,” he said.
“If you know that the right direction lies to the left,” said Tanar,
“let us go to the left.”
“I do not know,” said Jude; “doubtless either direction is wrong.”
“All right,” said Tanar, with a laugh. “We shall go to the right,” and,
turning, he set off at a brisk walk along the larger corridor.
“Do you notice anything, Jude?” asked Tanar.
“No. Why do you ask?” demanded the Himean.
“I smell fresh air from the upper world,” said Tanar, “and if I am right
we must be near the mouth of the tunnel.”
Tanar was almost running now; exhaustion was forgotten in the unexpected
hope of immediate deliverance. To be out in the fresh air and the light
of day! To be free from the hideous darkness and the constant menace of
recapture by the hideous monsters of the underworld! And across that
bright hope, like a sinister shadow, came the numbing fear of
disappointment.
What, if, after all, the breath of air which was now clear and fresh in
their nostrils should prove to be entering the corridor through some
unscalable shaft, such as the Well of Sounding Water into which he had
fallen upon his entrance into the country of the Buried People, or what,
if, at the moment of escape, they should meet a party of the Coripies?
So heavily did these thoughts weigh upon Tanar’s mind that he slackened
his speed until once again he moved in a slow walk.
“What is the matter?” demanded Jude. “A moment ago you were running and
now you are barely crawling along. Do not tell me that you were mistaken
and that, after all, we are not approaching the mouth of the corridor.”
“I do not know,” said Tanar. “We may be about to meet a terrible
disappointment and if that is true I wish to delay it as long as
possible. It would be a terrible thing to have hope crushed within our
breasts now.”
“I suppose it would,” said Jude, “but that is precisely what I have been
expecting.”
“You, I presume, would derive some satisfaction from disappointment,”
said Tanar.
“Yes,” said Jude, “I suppose I would. It is my nature.”
“Then prepare to be unhappy,” cried Tanar, suddenly, “for here indeed is
the mouth of the tunnel.”
He had spoken just as he had rounded a turn in the corridor, and when
Jude came to his side the latter saw daylight creeping into the corridor
through an opening just in front of them—an opening beyond which he saw
the foliage of growing things and the blue sky of Pellucidar.
Emerging again to the light of the sun after their long incarceration in
the bowels of the earth, the two men were compelled to cover their eyes
with their hands, while they slowly accustomed themselves again to the
brilliant light of the noonday sun of Pellucidar.
When he was able to uncover his eyes and look about him, Tanar saw that
the mouth of the tunnel was high upon the precipitous side of a lofty
mountain. Below them wooded ravines ran down to a mighty forest, just
beyond which lay the sparkling waters of a great ocean that, curving
upward, merged in the haze of the distance.
Faintly discernible in the mid-distance an island raised its bulk out of
the waters of the ocean.
“That,” said Jude, pointing, “is the island of Hime.”
“Ah, if I, too, could but see my home from here,” sighed Tanar, “my
happiness would be almost complete. I envy you, Jude.”
“It gives me no happiness to see Hime,” said Jude. “I hate the place.”
“Then you are not going to try to go back to it?” demanded Tanar.
“Certainly, I shall,” said Jude.
“But, why?” asked Tanar.
“There is no other place where I may go,” grumbled Jude. “At least in
Hime they will not kill me for no reason at all as strangers would do if
I went elsewhere.”
Jude’s attention was suddenly attracted by something below them in a
little glade that lay at the upper end of the ravine, which started a
little distance below the mouth of the tunnel.
“Look,” he cried, “there are people.”
Tanar looked in the direction in which Jude was pointing, and when his
eyes found the figures far below they first went wide with incredulity
and then narrowed with rage.
“God!” he exclaimed, and as he voiced that single exclamation he leaped
swiftly downward in the direction of the figures in the glade.
IX
LOVE AND TREACHERY