Chapter 31
Part 31
11 min read · 2,245 words
It was on the very evening of our perilous adventure with Challenger's
home-made balloon that the change came in our fortunes. I have said
that the one person from whom we had had some sign of sympathy in our
attempts to get away was the young chief whom we had rescued. He alone
had no desire to hold us against our will in a strange land. He had
told us as much by his expressive language of signs. That evening,
after dusk, he came down to our little camp, handed me (for some reason
he had always shown his attentions to me, perhaps because I was the one
who was nearest his age) a small roll of the bark of a tree, and then
pointing solemnly up at the row of caves above him, he had put his
finger to his lips as a sign of secrecy and had stolen back again to
his people.
I took the slip of bark to the firelight and we examined it together.
It was about a foot square, and on the inner side there was a singular
arrangement of lines, which I here reproduce:
They were neatly done in charcoal upon the white surface, and looked to
me at first sight like some sort of rough musical score.
"Whatever it is, I can swear that it is of importance to us," said I.
"I could read that on his face as he gave it."
"Unless we have come upon a primitive practical joker," Summerlee
suggested, "which I should think would be one of the most elementary
developments of man."
"It is clearly some sort of script," said Challenger.
"Looks like a guinea puzzle competition," remarked Lord John, craning
his neck to have a look at it. Then suddenly he stretched out his hand
and seized the puzzle.
"By George!" he cried, "I believe I've got it. The boy guessed right
the very first time. See here! How many marks are on that paper?
Eighteen. Well, if you come to think of it there are eighteen cave
openings on the hill-side above us."
"He pointed up to the caves when he gave it to me," said I.
"Well, that settles it. This is a chart of the caves. What! Eighteen
of them all in a row, some short, some deep, some branching, same as we
saw them. It's a map, and here's a cross on it. What's the cross for?
It is placed to mark one that is much deeper than the others."
"One that goes through," I cried.
"I believe our young friend has read the riddle," said Challenger. "If
the cave does not go through I do not understand why this person, who
has every reason to mean us well, should have drawn our attention to
it. But if it does go through and comes out at the corresponding point
on the other side, we should not have more than a hundred feet to
descend."
"A hundred feet!" grumbled Summerlee.
"Well, our rope is still more than a hundred feet long," I cried.
"Surely we could get down."
"How about the Indians in the cave?" Summerlee objected.
"There are no Indians in any of the caves above our heads," said I.
"They are all used as barns and store-houses. Why should we not go up
now at once and spy out the land?"
There is a dry bituminous wood upon the plateau--a species of
araucaria, according to our botanist--which is always used by the
Indians for torches. Each of us picked up a faggot of this, and we
made our way up weed-covered steps to the particular cave which was
marked in the drawing. It was, as I had said, empty, save for a great
number of enormous bats, which flapped round our heads as we advanced
into it. As we had no desire to draw the attention of the Indians to
our proceedings, we stumbled along in the dark until we had gone round
several curves and penetrated a considerable distance into the cavern.
Then, at last, we lit our torches. It was a beautiful dry tunnel with
smooth gray walls covered with native symbols, a curved roof which
arched over our heads, and white glistening sand beneath our feet. We
hurried eagerly along it until, with a deep groan of bitter
disappointment, we were brought to a halt. A sheer wall of rock had
appeared before us, with no chink through which a mouse could have
slipped. There was no escape for us there.
We stood with bitter hearts staring at this unexpected obstacle. It
was not the result of any convulsion, as in the case of the ascending
tunnel. The end wall was exactly like the side ones. It was, and had
always been, a cul-de-sac.
"Never mind, my friends," said the indomitable Challenger. "You have
still my firm promise of a balloon."
Summerlee groaned.
"Can we be in the wrong cave?" I suggested.
"No use, young fellah," said Lord John, with his finger on the chart.
"Seventeen from the right and second from the left. This is the cave
sure enough."
I looked at the mark to which his finger pointed, and I gave a sudden
cry of joy.
"I believe I have it! Follow me! Follow me!"
I hurried back along the way we had come, my torch in my hand. "Here,"
said I, pointing to some matches upon the ground, "is where we lit up."
"Exactly."
"Well, it is marked as a forked cave, and in the darkness we passed the
fork before the torches were lit. On the right side as we go out we
should find the longer arm."
It was as I had said. We had not gone thirty yards before a great
black opening loomed in the wall. We turned into it to find that we
were in a much larger passage than before. Along it we hurried in
breathless impatience for many hundreds of yards. Then, suddenly, in
the black darkness of the arch in front of us we saw a gleam of dark
red light. We stared in amazement. A sheet of steady flame seemed to
cross the passage and to bar our way. We hastened towards it. No
sound, no heat, no movement came from it, but still the great luminous
curtain glowed before us, silvering all the cave and turning the sand
to powdered jewels, until as we drew closer it discovered a circular
edge.
"The moon, by George!" cried Lord John. "We are through, boys! We are
through!"
It was indeed the full moon which shone straight down the aperture
which opened upon the cliffs. It was a small rift, not larger than a
window, but it was enough for all our purposes. As we craned our necks
through it we could see that the descent was not a very difficult one,
and that the level ground was no very great way below us. It was no
wonder that from below we had not observed the place, as the cliffs
curved overhead and an ascent at the spot would have seemed so
impossible as to discourage close inspection. We satisfied ourselves
that with the help of our rope we could find our way down, and then
returned, rejoicing, to our camp to make our preparations for the next
evening.
What we did we had to do quickly and secretly, since even at this last
hour the Indians might hold us back. Our stores we would leave behind
us, save only our guns and cartridges. But Challenger had some
unwieldy stuff which he ardently desired to take with him, and one
particular package, of which I may not speak, which gave us more labor
than any. Slowly the day passed, but when the darkness fell we were
ready for our departure. With much labor we got our things up the
steps, and then, looking back, took one last long survey of that
strange land, soon I fear to be vulgarized, the prey of hunter and
prospector, but to each of us a dreamland of glamour and romance, a
land where we had dared much, suffered much, and learned much--OUR
land, as we shall ever fondly call it. Along upon our left the
neighboring caves each threw out its ruddy cheery firelight into the
gloom. From the slope below us rose the voices of the Indians as they
laughed and sang. Beyond was the long sweep of the woods, and in the
center, shimmering vaguely through the gloom, was the great lake, the
mother of strange monsters. Even as we looked a high whickering cry,
the call of some weird animal, rang clear out of the darkness. It was
the very voice of Maple White Land bidding us good-bye. We turned and
plunged into the cave which led to home.
Two hours later, we, our packages, and all we owned, were at the foot
of the cliff. Save for Challenger's luggage we had never a difficulty.
Leaving it all where we descended, we started at once for Zambo's camp.
In the early morning we approached it, but only to find, to our
amazement, not one fire but a dozen upon the plain. The rescue party
had arrived. There were twenty Indians from the river, with stakes,
ropes, and all that could be useful for bridging the chasm. At least
we shall have no difficulty now in carrying our packages, when
to-morrow we begin to make our way back to the Amazon.
And so, in humble and thankful mood, I close this account. Our eyes
have seen great wonders and our souls are chastened by what we have
endured. Each is in his own way a better and deeper man. It may be
that when we reach Para we shall stop to refit. If we do, this letter
will be a mail ahead. If not, it will reach London on the very day
that I do. In either case, my dear Mr. McArdle, I hope very soon to
shake you by the hand.
CHAPTER XVI
"A Procession! A Procession!"
I should wish to place upon record here our gratitude to all our
friends upon the Amazon for the very great kindness and hospitality
which was shown to us upon our return journey. Very particularly would
I thank Senhor Penalosa and other officials of the Brazilian Government
for the special arrangements by which we were helped upon our way, and
Senhor Pereira of Para, to whose forethought we owe the complete outfit
for a decent appearance in the civilized world which we found ready for
us at that town. It seemed a poor return for all the courtesy which we
encountered that we should deceive our hosts and benefactors, but under
the circumstances we had really no alternative, and I hereby tell them
that they will only waste their time and their money if they attempt to
follow upon our traces. Even the names have been altered in our
accounts, and I am very sure that no one, from the most careful study
of them, could come within a thousand miles of our unknown land.
The excitement which had been caused through those parts of South
America which we had to traverse was imagined by us to be purely local,
and I can assure our friends in England that we had no notion of the
uproar which the mere rumor of our experiences had caused through
Europe. It was not until the Ivernia was within five hundred miles of
Southampton that the wireless messages from paper after paper and
agency after agency, offering huge prices for a short return message as
to our actual results, showed us how strained was the attention not
only of the scientific world but of the general public. It was agreed
among us, however, that no definite statement should be given to the
Press until we had met the members of the Zoological Institute, since
as delegates it was our clear duty to give our first report to the body
from which we had received our commission of investigation. Thus,
although we found Southampton full of Pressmen, we absolutely refused
to give any information, which had the natural effect of focussing
public attention upon the meeting which was advertised for the evening
of November 7th. For this gathering, the Zoological Hall which had
been the scene of the inception of our task was found to be far too
small, and it was only in the Queen's Hall in Regent Street that
accommodation could be found. It is now common knowledge the promoters
might have ventured upon the Albert Hall and still found their space
too scanty.
It was for the second evening after our arrival that the great meeting
had been fixed. For the first, we had each, no doubt, our own pressing
personal affairs to absorb us. Of mine I cannot yet speak. It may be
that as it stands further from me I may think of it, and even speak of
it, with less emotion. I have shown the reader in the beginning of
this narrative where lay the springs of my action. It is but right,
perhaps, that I should carry on the tale and show also the results.
And yet the day may come when I would not have it otherwise. At least
I have been driven forth to take part in a wondrous adventure, and I
cannot but be thankful to the force that drove me.
Arthur Conan Doyle — text from Project Gutenberg (eBook #139)
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