THE MARCH
We were now clear of the covered way, under a sky of brilliant
starshine, holding a course through the darkness that never wavered or
slackened, even when the gorge was crossed by the invisible bridge.
Here it occurred to me to ask how, if the country relied upon its girdle
of strange growths for its immunity from the outside world, it could
afford to risk invasion up so wide an unprotected channel as the gorge
supplied, but I could learn nothing beyond the suggestion that its
enemies would probably be too stupid to discover the gap, (if it really
were unprotected), which seemed a strange supposition when applied to a
power so dreaded, and the information that this gorge was remembered as
the scene of a great battle before the protective girdle had been
planted, in which the Dwellers had been destroyed in hundreds, but in
which one of their enemies had also perished, and the remains of its
body had blocked the channel for many years afterwards.
I had thought of the Dwellers hitherto as dominating by their strength
and size, as well as by their evident physical knowledge and engineering
skill, in both of which my present companions appeared to take little
interest, but I now had a vision as of a world in which a race of ants
of superior intelligence might revolt successfully against mankind, and
of a warfare in which they had been trodden down, as a man might stamp
on an ant’s nest. But the truth, as I learnt later, was somewhat
different.
My companion now pressed for some account of myself, and I answered many
questions, finding her more ready to believe that I was the product of
an earlier civilisation than I should have anticipated, but that this
information made it appear the more necessary that the Dwellers should
be informed of my existence, and the less probable that they would
regard it with complacency.
She explained that it was known to the Dwellers that the earth had been
the scene of countless civilisations, through aeons of forgotten times,
all of which had successively destroyed themselves by the misuse of
their own discoveries, and that their whole energy was directed to
overcoming this recurrent danger, which had appeared to operate with the
certainty of a fundamental law. To them I might well appear as the seed
of death which nature had sent forward to frustrate a purpose which
might otherwise have defeated her own intention. On the other hand, she
suggested kindly, my obvious ignorance and insignificance might be my
protection, as I had so evidently been born upon the earth in one of its
more barbarous epochs. As to their own course regarding myself, they
would do what they could, but----and her mind shut suddenly, though not
before I had caught a glimpse of her difficulty.
For if they were discovered in the present enterprise, even if it did
not in itself cause their destruction, they might find themselves at
open war with the Dwellers, in which case there would be no purpose in
surrendering me, while if the expedition returned in success and
secrecy, they might wish to give me up rather than risk another cause of
difference,--but how then could they secure that I should withhold my
knowledge of the events which were now proceeding?
It appeared to me to be a position in which they might well decide to
destroy what was, to them, nothing more than a strange and inferior
animal; nor did the alternative appear more attractive in its
probabilities, for if they were at war with the Dwellers, would they not
retreat to the ocean-floor which was their familiar resort, and where, I
supposed, their enemies would be unable to pursue them, and how could I
adapt myself to such an existence?
I decided that I could only act as circumstances developed, and that, in
the meantime, it was both duty and policy to give such service as I
could to those who had shown me kindness.
Meanwhile, the rapid march continued. There was a moon now, the first I
had seen, a thin bowl of silver in the eastern sky, more brilliant than
that to which I had been used--a difference which may have arisen only
from the fact that I was in a more equatorial region than that which I
had left behind me.
By its light the path became visible, a faint opalescence beneath us,
and, later, the black entrance to the tunnel of my first adventure.
Here we halted for the recovery of the body that I had left within it.
But after some space of silence, a sense of grief and oppression invaded
me, which I knew was felt by all those around me, as the news spread
from mind to mind. The body was not there.
Whatever had happened to it--and that it had fallen into the hands of
the Dwellers was almost certain--I understood that the inquiry must be
delayed till the further object of the expedition had been accomplished,
or at least attempted.
The sea-dogs, which had been brought for the purpose of conveying back
the body, were now ordered to return, and the forward march continued.
My guide had rejoined the other Leaders of the expedition, assigning me
to the care of the rearmost of the troop, beside whom I went forward,
keeping up the pace with difficulty, but afraid to fall behind, and
aware from the thought which combined us that there was still much
ground to be covered before the darkness lifted. When I had continued
for about half-an-hour, during which some miles must have been covered
at the rapid trot which was maintained without alteration upon the level
surface, a knowledge of my exhaustion must have entered the mind of my
neighbour, for I found a small webbed hand passed into mine, and with it
a thrill of nervous energy that enabled me to continue, till we shortly
turned to the left, and took a rough uphill path, on which we slackened
to a walk, and were soon climbing over rough boulders, and up sharp
ascents where hand and knee were needed.
For a mile, perhaps two, we continued up this arduous way, at times with
a glimpse, right-hand, of a gorge of black forbidding precipices,
silvered in the moonlight, but most often with sight of little beyond
the immediate rocks among which we clambered.
Then we became aware that a high wall of overhanging cliff confronted
us, into which those who led us had disappeared already, and, guided by
my companion’s hand, I entered a narrow gulley, whether natural or
artificial I cannot say, but which extended for many miles through the
mountains. It was not more than five feet wide from wall to wall. A
narrow line of sky showed its stars, where the gulley opened on the
mountain slope some hundreds of feet above us.
We emerged at last at a great height, on an open slope, on which trees
grew, but not thickly. They were tall and somewhat slender, silver-grey
in the moonlight, as a poplar shows its leaves when the wind lifts them.
Here we continued a long time, going forward, as I thought, not
directly, but keeping always where the trees were thickest. Once, far
below, we had a view of the gorge from which we climbed, narrow here,
but opening out to seaward many miles away, a vision of mysterious and
incredible beauty which the next step ended.
I judged now, by the moon’s height, that we must have travelled rapidly
for about twenty-four hours of my accustomed reckoning, and that the
night was half over. When the sea-dogs left, I had been given a store of
the food they carried, and to this I had resorted more than once
already. My companions appeared to be equally independent of fatigue or
food, but my condition was different. I had been without sleep for a
long period, and I was aware that it was only the vitality that I
received from my companion’s hand, and the fear of the contempt of my
new associates, that dragged me onward. These might not have availed me
much longer, but now we had approached a dense wood of a different kind.
I was instructed to lie flat and crawl forward under boughs too thick
and low for any other method of progression. At once we were in
darkness, with the great boughs close above us, and beneath us a bed of
soft resilient moss, which must have been nearly a foot in depth, over
which we crawled and wriggled quite easily, but which yielded to our
weight unless we moved forward. It was warmer here,--the night air on
the higher ground had been cold since we left the gulley,--and there was
a strange and pleasant fragrance from the boughs above us, so that when
an order was passed to rest, I sank into the soft moss very willingly,
and had I known that it would close over and suffocate me while I slept,
I think that I should scarcely have had the strength of mind to reject
its embraces.