Part 16

Desperate men will sometimes develop superhuman power, and I think when Torrence next went to work upon the nerve-trying mechanism of the vibrator, he must have made an abnormal effort. However this may have been, the ship arose with renewed energy, and darted through the air with a speed that astonished us both. This sudden accession of power lasted for quite two hours, and when she sunk again to earth the rugged hills were wonderfully near. Again he tried his hand upon the splendid structure, but at last it was evident that neither nature nor art would respond. He was too weak to adjust the vibrator, and without the vibrator the vessel would not rise. We strained every nerve, and made every shift imaginable, but she would not budge. Torrence was lying upon the deck, unable to move after the terrific struggle below, for the adjustment of the parts required not only physical force, but the exercise of nearly every sense as well. The hearing, the sight, the touch, must all be in perfect condition, and the strain of bringing these up to par, when so far below their normal state, was terrible, and now quite beyond his ability to achieve.

"How far are the hills?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Hills," I answered, "my dear boy, they are towering cliffs of sheer rock."

"And do you see no vegetation among them?"

"None. Indeed, so far as I can tell there is not a shovelful of soil in the range!"

"But there must be water," he insisted, although I could see no sign of any from where I stood, nor could I admit to myself that the prospect was against it.

"There may be," was all I could answer.

"Gurt, old man, it is our only chance. You must go afoot."

"Alone?"

"Yes, alone, for I am not able to move. Do you think you can reach it?"

"I will try; but do not get out of heart. If there is any water to be had I will find it. Yes, and I will bring it to you, dear boy. Don't give up. I promise."

"God bless you. If I could go I would, but I can't!" was all he said.

I then staggered down the ladder and wandered off, hardly knowing how or where, in search of water, for one drink of which I would have sacrificed the entire wealth of our cargo.

Keeping the dark cliffs in view, I bent my steps toward them with a strange misgiving.

The sand lay hot and deep in ridges, undulations, and depressions, like the swell of the ocean; characteristics which had not been so pronounced until I found myself crossing them afoot, and walking over waves into which I sank shoe deep at every step. Full of pain, and exhausted I plunged ahead, dazed and bewildered, conscious only that I was making the last effort for our salvation. On and on I trudged toward those terrible precipitous rocks ahead, at a rate which could not have carried me more than a couple of miles in a single hour; and at last I sank down exhausted to rest.

I looked about me. Where was the air ship? The vessel was nowhere in sight, and I wondered if I had come farther than I thought. It was impossible that the distance between us had made it invisible. The machine had simply disappeared from the face of the earth, suddenly and inexplicably.

In every direction the desert stretched, and above was the sky. It was impossible that Torrence could have repaired the damage without me, and sailed. I was bewildered, horrified. I felt that I was lost forever and irredeemably, for even my footsteps had been obliterated by the creeping of the sand, doubtless the effect of subterranean heat. I was crushed; and as I sat there, burning and aching in every inch of my body, and in mental agony as well, I cried.

Then I remembered the undulations of the plain, and was convinced that the air ship was lying in one of the hollows between them, just out of sight. Although this thought was comforting in one sense, it was not so in another, inasmuch as it did not relieve the situation. The vessel was as hopelessly lost as if she had sailed away without me. At least so I felt about it. I shouted as loud as possible, but at best could not have been heard a hundred yards, for my throat was parched and painful, and its power gone. Death seemed close at hand, and closer, perhaps, from a certain apathy which was stealing over me.

Stretching out at full length upon the sand, the cliffs beyond had an ominous look. There was no appearance of life, neither was there tree or bush to indicate the presence of water. Sheer cliffs, of unscalable form, towered above me. Like the ruin of some vast Titanic home the rocks were piled in huge masses, uncouth blocks and pinnacles, from the sandy depths beneath to the vapory heights above. The wind whispered through dark alleys and deserted passages, and at open casements; at least these sounds appeared to reach me in that awful solitude, and I was overpowered with the sense of a breathing, intelligent world around me.

As I lay there staring stupidly up at the rugged forms of tower and pinnacle surmounting this strange wall, I was struck with the appearance of dark spots in the face of the cliff near the summit, which had a peculiar regularity, as if they might be windows, cut or blasted out by human hands. This interested and set me to examining the place more carefully, when I became astounded at what I could no longer doubt was an artificial design extending along the top of the precipice. Could it be possible that this great natural wall was crowned with a castellated structure built by men, and so closely resembling the cliff itself as to be indistinguishable from it?

I raised my head and examined the place with growing curiosity. Yes, there could be no question about it, the whole top of the wall was built up artificially. Perhaps it was some great fortress, or decaying monastery; for the singular blending of art and nature made it seem as if the two had grown together through vast periods of time.

As I lay there, dreading the effort of rising, and indeed almost too weak to proceed, there came a strange sound through the air, which grew louder, and more inexplicable each minute. I listened, wondering if it could be in my own ears, as signal of approaching death, and almost wished it might be. Was it a rushing wind creeping down from the heights above, or the portent of subterranean upheaval? It grew, and while vaguely surmising the cause, I became suddenly aware of a fearful object, hovering above. I started to my feet, staggered and fell, for directly over me was one of those gigantic birds. It swooped earthward, and I crouched in horror, as I saw that it was making directly for me.

The end was at hand. I should be pecked to pieces before I was dead, and my flesh be consumed like carrion by this damnable, awe-inspiring monster. Even had I the strength to resist, a dozen men could not have coped with such a creature. I lay quietly waiting to feel that awful beak pecking at my heart, my eyes, my brains, and suffered the agony of a thousand deaths. Down it came; it was close above, and the stench upon the air was overpowering. I could not move, for the paralysis of a consuming fear devoured me. I looked straight up into those baleful eyes, and my attention was attracted by a strange thing, for around the bird's neck was suspended a gilded barrel of peculiar form. Now was I alive, or was I dead? for at that moment a sight presented itself which might well have made me doubt. When close above the ground, and within fifty feet, the bird stopped and by some dextrous movement of beak and claw, disengaged the barrel, which dropped quietly upon the ground, leaving the animal free to fly away as quietly and mysteriously as it had come. It disappeared among the rocks near the summit of the cliff.

Crawling toward the cask I examined it, and discovered to my unspeakable joy that it was divided into two compartments, in one of which was about five gallons of cold water, while in the other was a quantity of fruit. Had this strange creature been sent from heaven? but I could not stop to think until after I had drunk and eaten, and then falling down upon my knees thanked God for his deliverance, for even here in this awful desert I was watched and cared for.

I was a new man, but the thought of my brother dying in the air ship came upon me with renewed force. Could I ever hope to find him? The heights above offered the only chance of doing so, for there I could overlook the inequalities of the sand hills, discover his position, and with carefully established bearings reach the spot. It was a frightful undertaking, but my only hope.

Hanging the cask with its remains of food and water across my back by the cords attached, I again pushed forward, and after an hour's patient trudging was relieved to find the sand less tenacious, and far more shallow; in fact, the walking had become comparatively easy, but the climb had not commenced. When it did I discovered what appeared to be a natural rocky way leading above. Up this dangerous path I directed my steps, and although the work was steep and laborious, it was a relief to have solid ground once more beneath my feet.

At the end of two hours I had ascended to a great elevation, but to my amazement the air ship was not yet visible. The atmosphere over the plain was quivering with heat, and its dense gaseous condition may have obscured the vessel, but I was greatly distressed that it had not come in view. Another hour's climb and still the noble craft was hidden from my sight.

It was growing cooler, but neither watercourse nor vegetation had been encountered, yet the black, towering rocks closed in upon me on every side. Whither was the path leading, and what would be the end? It would be useless to return, to be lost in the drift. There was but one object to steer by, and but one hope to which I could cling, and that was the great barren rock that supported me. If once my back was turned upon this single landmark, there was absolutely nothing to look to. And so with aching heart, and the gravest misgivings, I struggled on, stopping constantly to search the plain below.

So far the path had been narrow and tortuous, a mere rut, twisting in and out among the irregularities of the wall, but suddenly I found myself standing upon a horizontal ledge, like a natural piazza overlooking the plain. On my right, at the back of this landing, the cliff continued to rise in a sheer ascent of perhaps a hundred feet, and here I again observed those dark openings, which I had seen from below. It was a remarkable formation, and I walked along it with an uncanny dread lest here was the abode of some unknown being which might resent my intrusion.

The farther end of this extraordinary promenade was blocked by a mass of rock, but upon examination I found a narrow alley which led to the rear, and communicated with a vast internal passage, dimly illuminated with an amber light coming from above, and falling about the walls in strange scintillations of green, purple, blue, crimson and gold. I stood for a moment staring in surprise, and then, overcome with curiosity, walked into the interior. The corridor in which I found myself was at a right angle to the esplanade, and ran directly into the mountain. It was of vast height, although the peculiar configuration prevented my gaining any accurate knowledge of its altitude, as the light filtered through semi-transparent masses above, whose distance from the floor was irregular and difficult to estimate.

The gloom of twilight reigned about me, but the coloring was of a splendor indescribable. Above, below, around were these spark-like points of illumination, shifting and changing like the twinkling of stars, or the flash of precious stones, and of every conceivable color and tone. I wandered on in stupid amazement, wondering whither it would lead. The passage seemed interminable, and of ever increasing splendor. The illumination from above would change from amber to erubescence, and then it would fall upon my path in sudden rifts of green or gold, and then return to its original amber tint again.

At last I came to what was undoubtedly an indication of life, and of human life, too, for here at the end of the corridor was a door. Not a common door, but a great cumbersome stone portal, which was made to swing in a socket at the end. I stopped before this emblem of humanity in awe. What was beyond it? I listened, but no sound came from within. A massive chain of gold was hung from the point where with us a lock or latch is affixed, and I could not doubt that it was intended as a handle to pull upon. My curiosity was wrought to the highest pitch, and I longed to grasp that chain and swing open the aperture. Twice my hand was upon it, and twice I drew it away in terror; but at last, trembling with excitement, and overcome with an unholy desire to solve the mystery within, I seized it and pulled with all my might. The door swung open, and I stood face to face with an extraordinary sight.

An apartment of magnificent proportions was before me. In size I should say that it approximated a cube of a hundred feet. It was lighted from above through a ceiling of transparent mosaics, arranged in superb designs, apparently emblematic of historical events. The walls had been carved out of the solid rock in pictorial cameos. These pictures surrounded the room. They were perfect in delineation, and of unparalleled workmanship. The floor was laid in rich mosaics, also arranged in pictorial form, and the light from above was just strong enough to add a mystery to the scene. Never had I dreamed of anything so wonderful. In all this vast apartment, above, below, and upon every hand, there was such lavish decoration that the eye was bewildered; it was impossible to take it in.

As I stood there, marveling, gazing, I seemed to be the only living creature in this great silent hall, and by degrees, as I gained courage, I wandered on toward the center of the floor, trying to take in and understand the marvelous scene, but as I have said, it was impossible to comprehend it at a glance, or even to perceive the details of more than a small part of what actually existed.

I had reached a point about halfway across the floor, my head strained at every angle in reviewing the marvels around me, when suddenly I was startled by a sight that made my heart give one great leap. Upon a slightly raised dais, surrounding the room, I had observed not less than a hundred richly decorated chairs. These were carved, gilded, bejeweled and caparisoned in a manner that made it difficult to tell exactly what they were, but I had decided that they were seats, and intended to examine them a little later. Imagine, therefore, my horror to discover that upon each chair sat a human being, so strange, so mysterious, and of so awful an aspect, with gilded and painted faces, that I had not recognized them before. Indeed these creatures were so richly robed, and in that respect so closely resembled their surroundings that it was only when one of them moved that I discovered my mistake. I had been watched then from the moment of entering the room. There was nothing to do but apologize for my intrusion; explain my errand, and retreat as gracefully as possible.

I prostrated myself before this grave assembly; told how I was in search of aid for my brother, who was perishing from thirst on the plain. I asked if they would appoint a delegation to assist me in carrying water and finding him. I said that he was exhausted with the heat, and that I feared he would perish if not relieved immediately. Of course all this I might as well have said in Choctaw; but what else could I do? Yes, there was one other thing which I did. I pointed to the barrel of water on my back, made a motion as if drinking, and then pointed out at the plain, signifying that another was there who needed their aid. But these strange, gaunt men neither smiled nor answered me. They sat silently looking on with their dark, wonderful eyes, and did not even so much as glance at one another. Had I been one of their own number I would, apparently, have created as much surprise. Filled with chagrin and horror at the extraordinary situation in which I found myself, I began slowly to retreat, keeping my eyes fixed upon these unearthly beings, and their environment. Indeed their recognition had been so sudden and unexpected that I half looked for other developments in what had appeared fixtures of the apartment. In doing this I observed that the spaces between the pictorial cameos on the walls were filled from floor to ceiling with what appeared to be stacks of metallic tablets. It seemed possible that the place was a vast library, or depository of historic records, some of the scenes of which were depicted upon the walls. Could it be that these men composed a guard for their preservation?

Slowly I retreated toward the door by which I had entered, stepping backward, and never relaxing my eyes from a close and careful scrutiny of the scene. Glancing at the farther end of the room, I was suddenly electrified by one of the mural decorations I had not before observed. It was a representation of a man and woman being driven through a great natural gateway; but that was not all, for the portal through which they were passing was an accurate delineation of Mount Horror and Mount Gurthrie.

For a moment I stopped, and then overcome with the significance of the picture and the horrible mystery of my surroundings, turned, and fled toward the door. Seizing the chain which hung within I flung it open and rushed out; but, alas, I had mistaken the entrance. There were other doors, and I had taken the wrong one.

I was in a dark, narrow passage, with the door behind me closed, and as I soon discovered with no chain to reopen it, nor would it yield to my pressure. With my hand against the wall I groped forward, feeling carefully with my feet at the same time. The passage was not straight, and as it turned from side to side I realized that I was wandering through a crevice in the earth.

On and on I crept, until at last, overcome with terror at the thought of my position, and the probable fate which awaited me, I sank down upon the floor, almost wishing that I had perished in the plain below. As I sat there brooding over our misfortunes, a strange odor was wafted through the passage, which I recognized at once as belonging to those gigantic birds of the desert.

*XXII.*

The peculiar odor alluded to grew more intense, until it became almost insupportable. I got up and stumbled on, hoping to escape it, and find an outlet to the open air, wondering at the same time if the alley led to a nest, or general rendezvous of these extraordinary creatures. The passage I was following was not only crooked, but in places it inclined upward, leading me to look for an opening above. The darkness was intense, and perhaps I felt it the more from the fact that there had been no night since the last great headland of Europe had faded from our view.

I could form no idea of the distance I had groveled along this black, noisome rift, when a flickering light greeted my eyes ahead which filled me with joy, although it was evidently not the light of day; still it relieved the awful sensation of having been trapped alive in a tomb of solid rock. The light approached slowly; evidently it was a long way off when first observed, and the reflection on the walls was all I was able to see for quite a time, but at last I heard approaching footsteps. There was a sharp angle ahead, and upon turning it, I found myself face to face with a human being bearing a torch. We stood for a second staring at each other. The man, if man it were, was tall, gaunt, with copper-colored skin, painted and gilded in geometrical designs, and with white hair that fell about his face and neck. He wore a crimson paletot which hung from his shoulders without belt or girdle. He was nearly a head the taller, and as I stood watching him in the flickering light of the flambeau, I was chilled, subdued, humbled, realizing that I was in the presence of a being whose powers I could not fathom. Without a word he turned, and with majestic wave of firebrand, motioned me to follow. I did as I was bid, knowing nothing else, and together we threaded the subterranean passage in its upward trend.

We struggled on up the incline, which ended in a vaulted chamber, where were standing vessels of water, and a quantity of peculiar-looking food upon a marble slab. In a corner was a pile of mats, doubtless intended for a bed. The walls were rough as if blasted from the living rock. About forty feet above my head was an opening through which the blessed daylight entered. My attendant left without a word, closing the heavy stone portal behind him.

Finding myself alone, I began to investigate the surroundings with a view of escape. It would have been useless to return as I had come, for even had my chamber door been open, the other end of the passage was closed against me; but the man had fastened the great stone portal after him; it was immovable in its stone socket. I was sealed up alive in a vault whose only opening was far above my head. How to reach that outlet was now what most concerned me.

Here I again observed the peculiar odor of those gigantic birds; if it became much stronger I thought it would stifle me. Examining the walls of my prison I found them in many places rough enough to afford a lodgment, huge blocks, projecting into the apartment; but the height was great, and I dared not attempt climbing to the opening above unless sure of finding a passable way to the top. The outlet was not directly in the apex of the roof, but upon one side, near the spring of the arch. The light was dim, and it was some time before I had fully mastered the bearings, but after a careful search I discovered in a remote corner a regular ledge of projecting rock, which appeared to go all the way to the ceiling. Indeed it looked as if it might have been used as a stairway to communicate with the roof. I lost no time in trying this, feeling uncertain as to what fate awaited me. And so, with the little barrel still upon my back, commenced the ascent immediately. As I had thought, it led without difficulty to the aperture, and I begun to congratulate myself with the thought that there was no intention of making me a prisoner after all, when so easy a way had been provided for my escape.

But this idea was quickly dispelled on finding myself upon the top of this lofty formation, which fell away upon every side in great chasms, and awful rifts, impossible to cross or descend with any means at my disposal. It was clear enough why there had been no effort to prevent my emerging here.

Far out over the desert the atmosphere still quivered in the dreadful heat, but even at this tremendous elevation I could see nothing of the air ship. Was it too small an object to be recognized so far away, or was it hid by the undulations of the sand; or, could it be possible, no, I could not believe it was possible, but still the thought would come to me, that Torrence had repaired the damage, and sailed away alone to continue the exploration by himself? I am sure such a conception would never have entered my mind were it not for the awful strain I had been subjected to.