CHAPTER IV

OUT INTO THE GREAT BEYOND

The boys had no packing to do. They possessed nothing but the clothes they stood in, and a sailor’s clasp knife that belonged to Alan; but they put together a store of dried elers, a fruit that was sustaining, and that, down below, took the place of the bread of the upper world.

There were very few of the purple people about; it was the vigil of Meherut,—the most solemn feast day of their strange religion, and all were shut up in their houses with their curtains drawn spending their time in fasting and prayer.

On, on the boys went, always choosing the middle path if a choice was offered them, if not, then taking the path to the right. Gradually they left all sign of habitation and entered a most desolate region where the purple moss grew only in patches, and the purple lights were only few and far between. They stumbled on blindly; they dared not wait for food; every moment was precious to them. Suddenly Desmond stumbled and fell. “I can’t go a step further,” he cried. “How long have we been walking, Lanny?”

“About ten hours I should think.”

“Then for Heaven’s sake let us rest! We have a fair start of them—let us rest and have some food.” The elers refreshed them, and they drank of the water that rolled treacherously at their feet. It was not very wide, perhaps three feet at the most, but the current was strong and the whirlpools more torrential than ever.

Stretching themselves out on the ground the boys slept, and woke some five or six hours later feeling greatly refreshed. Then they continued their march, now leaving the river behind them, now coming upon it again and walking by its banks.

They had no idea of where they were going. They had only one goal in view—to put as big a distance as they could between themselves and the purple people whom they knew would already be following them. Suddenly the road ended. They had turned a sharp corner and the way had opened out into a small cave, which was bounded on one side by a narrow strip of bubbling, foaming water, that disappeared at either end in a dark tunnel. “What shall we do?” asked Desmond. “Shall we go back?”

“We can’t,” said Alan decisively. “The road that brought us here was at least five miles long, without a turn in it. By the time we retraced our steps, the purple devils would have caught up to us. No, old boy, I think this is a tight fix we are in, and at the moment I can’t quite see how we are to get out of it.”

They walked round the little cave examining it carefully. It had only the one exit—the path up which they had come. The tunnels at either end through which flowed the waters were too low to admit the passage of a body, and the walls on the other side of the little river rose sheer from the water itself. “It looks pretty hopeless,” said Alan at last, “but at all costs we must not go back.”

“How red the walls are,” said Desmond suddenly. Alan started, for in his mind he could hear a voice saying, “Look for the stones that are red.” It had been Har-Barim’s advice to them, and he had said—“make for the waters that are turbulent and wild—where in the space of a foot—” A foot! why the water couldn’t be wider than that here. He looked round hurriedly—was it his fancy or were the stones on the opposite side even redder than those about him?

To Alan’s strained nerves it seemed as if just opposite him a stone had been worn away by the constant passage of feet. Slowly a thought came into his mind—if that was a footprint then surely it must lead somewhere. His eyes travelled up the rock eagerly—again his quickened senses discovered another foothold a little higher up, and still another and another. Four in all, at perhaps a stretch of a little over two feet. Upward his glance wandered, and in the rugged rock he saw a flat piece of red stone that looked as if it had been inserted there at some time or other, for some specific purpose. He stretched across the raging torrent and with a mighty effort clung to the jagged rock. “Don’t touch me, Dez,” he commanded, “I think I can manage best alone.”

With an almost superhuman effort he placed his foot in the first little cleft, and gradually worked up to the little red stone that had so aroused his curiosity. Desmond watched him in breathless horror. Although the water was so narrow, Alan would stand little chance of saving himself if he fell in, for it was dashing wildly against the sides and sending its spray even higher than where Alan was clinging. He touched the stone—it moved ever so slightly. “God! A secret way!” he cried, and worked feverishly to open it. But although it trembled and shook, it would not disclose its secret.

Then, away in the distance, came the sound of fierce shouting and the beating of drums.

“The people know,” cried Desmond. “They are coming up the long passage.” Already they could hear the name of Kaweeka used as a battle cry, and they realized that they could expect little mercy if they were caught by the purple savages.

With beads of perspiration on his brow, Alan worked. His fingers were torn and bleeding from his exertions. Still nearer came the cries of the infuriated people, and Alan had not yet succeeded in moving the stone, which he was convinced hid a secret way of escape. Desmond ran down the passage a little way—in a second he was back. “I can see them,” he cried. “There are hundreds of them! Oh, what shall we do?”

“Ah!” Alan gave a cry of relief, for suddenly the stone had rolled back, revealing a small cavity beyond, just big enough for the passage of a man’s body.

“Follow me in, Dez,” he cried, “no matter where it leads—it can’t be worse than if we remain here.”

Their pursuers were now in full view, and if seemed that only a few yards separated them. Quickly Desmond climbed the steps and reached the hole, and Alan drew him in, and even as he turned to make fast the opening, a head with an evil-looking horn appeared. Alan doubled his fist and gave a mighty blow, and like a log the man dropped into the water, was sucked under and carried out of sight.

They rolled the stone back into its place, and panting, leant against it. The execrations and cries of the natives came faintly on their ears; the great stone trembled, and they knew it was being forced from without. One hurried glance round revealed to them great boulders of rock lying on the ground. Feverishly they piled them up in front of the stone, and they were strong enough to resist the furious onslaught that the purple people kept up. After a time, the cries of the people grew fainter, gradually they died away altogether, and the underworld folk made their way back to the temple to pray that the white men might be handed over to them, and that they might be allowed to punish the slayers of the seed of Korah.

Spent and tired the two boys sank to the ground, for many hours had passed while they were defending their retreat from the underworld people. A faint, natural, ground light shone around. It was like the same purple light that lit the whole of the underworld, but here it was in its natural condition, and was so faint that it scarcely showed them each other’s face.

“Go to sleep, Dez,” said Alan. “I will keep watch.”

“But you are tired too,” demurred his cousin.

Alan smiled. “Sleep first, old man,” said he, and even as he spoke, Desmond dropped his head upon his breast, and his eyes closed in slumber.

It was a great strain for Alan to sit there in the darkness—in a weird and unknown place—soundless except for Desmond’s heavy, regular breathing. His own breath seemed to his quickened senses like the blast of heavy artillery, and the slightest sound was magnified a hundredfold. Nobly he fought against sleep—but he was worn out, and at last his eyes closed—and he too, slept.

Time meant nothing to these imprisoned men. Science they could laugh at, for, from a scientific point of view, their very life was impossible. How in the centre of the earth could mankind live? Yet it was true they had lived, fed, and breathed for months and months in the very belly of the earth. Science said the centre of the earth was impenetrable—that the intense heat of its inner fire would prevent man even seeing that fire. Yet they could prove that they had seen and they could tell the scientists that the fire was waning.

Still they slept.

Fantastic dreams came into their minds, yet there was not so much as the scuffling of a rat or the squeaking of a mouse to awaken them. All was silent and still, with a stillness that cannot be expressed by words.

Desmond woke first—the light did not seem so dim—or had they become used to it? His eyes rested on Alan sleeping soundly by his side, and a tear dropped on his cousin’s brow as he leant over him. It was a tear not to be laughed at, nor to be ashamed of, but the tear of a strong man shed in the bitterness of his oppression.

He rose to his feet, stretched his limbs, and wandered round the place where he found himself. It was a cavern, very similar to the numberless others he had passed through on the further side of the rapid river. Its floor was rugged, but was covered with the purple moss, and a few bushes which bore fruit were growing there. Round and round he walked, but the cave seemed to have no outlet at all. Alan woke and watched Desmond in silence for a short while, and then said, “Don’t worry, Dez, I’m sure we shall find a way out. This must lead somewhere.” But although he too, examined the cave very carefully, there seemed to be no outlet.

How long they stayed there they did not know—fortunately they found some roots which were edible, and whose long bulb-like ends were filled with a pleasant fluid which quenched their thirst. They played games with each other, did everything in fact to prevent the madness they were afraid would come over them.

Nearer and nearer it crept like a beast of prey waiting to spring and devour his victims. With their forced inactivity their limbs became cramped and although the air was pure, their lips were dry and their throats parched. They began to give up speaking aloud; they would sit for hours in silence, only uttering occasionally a croaking whisper, one to the other, as if they were afraid of being overheard. Then the day—but no, it cannot be called that—the time came when Desmond lay quiet and still, and Alan awoke to the consciousness that something was radically wrong with his cousin. He bent over the inanimate figure, and touched him gently with his hand. The eyes were closed and the fists clenched and had he been able to see clearly, he would have noticed the purple lines round the cold mouth, and a pinched look upon the face, that boded nought but ill.

“I must do something,” he muttered wearily, and then he burst out into a paroxysm of weeping. That saved his life, for when he came to himself it was as a fresh man.

Plucking some of the purple foliage, he squeezed the stalks and let the cool liquid pour gently on Desmond’s brow, then tenderly chiding and imploring him, he managed to bring back a sign of life to his cousin’s face. Nor did he stop then, but continued, until Desmond woke to reason and called him by his name.

When Desmond had fallen into a refreshed and tranquil sleep, Alan wandered round and round the little cave, looking still for some weak spot.

Suddenly there came a sound in the distance—a thud that shook the very ground upon which he was standing. With every nerve wound up to concert pitch he waited—listening intently to see if he could hear again the sudden sound that had broken the stillness.

“It’s my fancy,” said he aloud, but even as he spoke the noise began again with greater fury. The cavern shook—pieces of rock came hurtling down, broken off from their parent wall by the vibrations. Then suddenly came a sound almost like an explosion, and a piece of rock, larger than the rest came tumbling down, and revealed behind it a small passage.

“Dez.” cried Alan. “Dez, a way of escape has come.”

Desmond opened his eyes and looked round vacantly, and indeed it was some time before he realized the wonderful thing that had happened.

The underworld folk had made one last mighty effort to reach them, and the boys could have gone down on their knees to thank the purple people, for their machinations had given them hope once more.