Allan Quatermain
CHAPTER X
THE ROSE OF FIRE
On we flew, drawn by the mighty current, till at last I
noticed that the sound of the water was not half so deafening as it had
been, and concluded that this must be because there was more room for the
echoes to disperse in. I could now hear Alphonse's howls much more
distinctly; they were made up of the oddest mixture of invocations to the
Supreme Power and the name of his beloved Annette that it is possible to
conceive; and, in short, though their evident earnestness saved them from
profanity, were, to say the least, very remarkable. Taking up a paddle I
managed to drive it into his ribs, whereon he, thinking that the end had
come, howled louder than ever. Then I slowly and cautiously raised myself
on my knees and stretched my hand upwards, but could touch no roof. Next I
took the paddle and lifted it above my head as high as I could, but with
the same result. I also thrust it out laterally to the right and left, but
could touch nothing except water. Then I bethought me that there was in
the boat, amongst our other remaining possessions, a bull's-eye lantern and
a tin of oil. I groped about and found it, and having a match on me
carefully lit it, and as soon as the flame had got a hold of the wick I
turned it on down the boat. As it happened, the first thing the light lit
on was the white and scared face of Alphonse, who, thinking that it was all
over at last, and that he was witnessing a preliminary celestial
phenomenon, gave a terrific yell and was with difficulty reassured with the
paddle. As for the other three, Good was lying on the flat of his back, his
eyeglass still fixed in his eye, and gazing blankly into the upper
darkness. Sir Henry had his head resting on the thwarts of the canoe, and
with his hand was trying to test the speed of the water. But when the beam
of light fell upon old Umslopogaas I could really have laughed. I think I
have said that we had put a roast quarter of water-buck into the canoe.
Well, it so happened that when we all prostrated ourselves to avoid being
swept out of the boat and into the water by the rock roof, Umslopogaas's
head had come down uncommonly near this roast buck, and so soon as he had
recovered a little from the first shock of our position it occurred to him
that he was hungry. Thereupon he coolly cut off a chop with Inkosi-kaas,
and was now employed in eating it with every appearance of satisfaction.
As he afterwards explained, he thought that he was going 'on a long
journey', and preferred to start on a full stomach. It reminded me of the
people who are going to be hanged, and who are generally reported in the
English daily papers to have made 'an excellent breakfast'.
As soon as the others saw that I had managed to light
the lamp, we bundled Alphonse into the farther end of the canoe with a
threat which calmed him down wonderfully, that if he would insist upon
making the darkness hideous with his cries we would put him out of suspense
by sending him to join the Wakwafi and wait for Annette in another sphere,
and began to discuss the situation as well as we could. First, however, at
Good's suggestion, we bound two paddles mast-fashion in the bows so that
they might give us warning against any sudden lowering of the roof of the
cave or waterway. It was clear to us that we were in an underground river
or, as Alphonse defined it, 'main drain', which carried off the superfluous
waters of the lake. Such rivers are well known to exist in many parts of
the world, but it has not often been the evil fortune of explorers to
travel by them. That the river was wide we could clearly see, for the
light from the bull's-eye lantern failed to reach from shore to shore,
although occasionally, when the current swept us either to one side or the
other, we could distinguish the rock wall of the tunnel, which, as far as
we could make out, appeared to arch about twenty-five feet above our heads.
As for the current itself, it ran, Good estimated, at least eight knots,
and, fortunately for us, was, as is usual, fiercest in the middle of the
stream. Still, our first act was to arrange that one of us, with the
lantern and a pole there was in the canoe, should always be in the bows
ready, if possible, to prevent us from being stove in against the side of
the cave or any projecting rock. Umslopogaas, having already dined, took
the first turn. This was absolutely, with one exception, all that we could
do towards preserving our safety. The exception was that another of us
took up a position in the stern with a paddle by means of which it was
possible to steer the canoe more or less and to keep her from the sides of
the cave. These matters attended to, we made a somewhat sparing meal off
the cold buck's meat (for we did not know how long it might have to last
us), and then feeling in rather better spirits I gave my opinion that,
serious as it undoubtedly was, I did not consider our position altogether
without hope, unless, indeed, the natives were right, and the river plunged
straight down into the bowels of the earth. If not, it was clear that it
must emerge somewhere, probably on the other side of the mountains, and in
that case all we had to think of was to keep ourselves alive till we got
there, wherever 'there' might be. But, of course, as Good lugubriously
pointed out, on the other hand we might fall victims to a hundred
unsuspected horrors -- or the river might go on winding away inside the
earth till it dried up, in which case our fate would indeed be an awful
one.
'Well, let us hope for the best and prepare ourselves
for the worst,' said Sir Henry, who is always cheerful and even spirited --
a very tower of strength in the time of trouble. 'We have come out of so
many queer scrapes together, that somehow I almost fancy we shall come out
of this,' he added.
This was excellent advice, and we proceeded to take it
each in our separate way -- that is, except Alphonse, who had by now sunk
into a sort of terrified stupor. Good was at the helm and Umslopogaas in
the bows, so there was nothing left for Sir Henry and myself to do except
to lie down in the canoe and think. It certainly was a curious, and indeed
almost a weird, position to be placed in -- rushing along, as we were,
through the bowels of the earth, borne on the bosom of a Stygian river,
something after the fashion of souls being ferried by Charon, as Curtis
said. And how dark it was! The feeble ray from our little lamp did but
serve to show the darkness. There in the bows sat old Umslopogaas, like
Pleasure in the poem, 9 watchful and untiring,
the pole ready to his hand, and behind in the shadow I could just make out
the form of Good peering forward at the ray of light in order to make out
how to steer with the paddle that he held and now and again dipped into the
water.
'Well, well,' thought I, 'you have come in search of
adventures, Allan my boy, and you have certainly got them. At your time of
life, too! You ought to be ashamed of yourself; but somehow you are not,
and, awful as it all is, perhaps you will pull through after all; and if
you don't, why, you cannot help it, you see! And when all's said and done
an underground river will make a very appropriate burying-place.'
At first, however, I am bound to say that the strain
upon the nerves was very great. It is trying to the coolest and most
experienced person not to know from one hour to another if he has five
minutes more to live, but there is nothing in this world that one cannot
get accustomed to, and in time we began to get accustomed even to that.
And, after all, our anxiety, though no doubt natural, was, strictly
speaking, illogical, seeing that we never know what is going to happen to
us the next minute, even when we sit in a well-drained house with two
policemen patrolling under the window -- nor how long we have to live. It
is all arranged for us, my sons, so what is the use of bothering?
It was nearly midday when we made our dive into
darkness, and we had set our watch (Good and Umslopogaas) at two, having
agreed that it should be of a duration of five hours. At seven o'clock,
accordingly, Sir Henry and I went on, Sir Henry at the bow and I at the
stern, and the other two lay down and went to sleep. For three hours all
went well, Sir Henry only finding it necessary once to push us off from the
side; and I that but little steering was required to keep us straight, as
the violent current did all that was needed, though occasionally the canoe
showed a tendency which had to be guarded against to veer and travel
broadside on. What struck me as the most curious thing about this
wonderful river was: how did the air keep fresh? It was muggy and thick,
no doubt, but still not sufficiently so to render it bad or even remarkably
unpleasant. The only explanation that I can suggest is that the water of
the lake had sufficient air in it to keep the atmosphere of the tunnel from
absolute stagnation, this air being given out as it proceeded on its
headlong way. Of course I only give the solution of the mystery for what
it is worth, which perhaps is not much.
When I had been for three hours or so at the helm, I
began to notice a decided change in the temperature, which was getting
warmer. At first I took no notice of it, but when, at the expiration of
another half-hour, I found that it was getting hotter and hotter, I called
to Sir Henry and asked him if he noticed it, or if it was only my
imagination. 'Noticed it!' he answered; 'I should think so. I am in a
sort of Turkish bath.' Just about then the others woke up gasping, and
were obliged to begin to discard their clothes. Here Umslopogaas had the
advantage, for he did not wear any to speak of, except a moocha.
Hotter it grew, and hotter yet, till at last we could
scarcely breathe, and the perspiration poured out of us. Half an hour
more, and though we were all now stark naked, we could hardly bear it. The
place was like an antechamber of the infernal regions proper. I dipped my
hand into the water and drew it out almost with a cry; it was nearly
boiling. We consulted a little thermometer we had -- the mercury stood at
123 degrees. From the surface of the water rose a dense cloud of steam.
Alphonse groaned out that we were already in purgatory, which indeed we
were, though not in the sense that he meant it. Sir Henry suggested that
we must be passing near the seat of some underground volcanic fire, and I
am inclined to think, especially in the light of what subsequently
occurred, that he was right. Our sufferings for some time after this
really pass my powers of description. We no longer perspired, for all the
perspiration had been sweated out of us. We simply lay in the bottom of
the boat, which we were now physically incapable of directing, feeling like
hot embers, and I fancy undergoing very much the same sensations that the
poor fish do when they are dying on land -- namely, that of slow
suffocation. Our skins began to crack, and the blood to throb in our heads
like the beating of a steam-engine.
This had been going on for some time, when suddenly the
river turned a little, and I heard Sir Henry call out from the bows in a
hoarse, startled voice, and, looking up, saw a most wonderful and awful
thing. About half a mile ahead of us, and a little to the left of the
centre of the stream -- which we could now see was about ninety feet broad
-- a huge pillar-like jet of almost white flame rose from the surface of
the water and sprang fifty feet into the air, when it struck the roof and
spread out some forty feet in diameter, falling back in curved sheets of
fire shaped like the petals of a full-blown rose. Indeed this awful gas
jet resembled nothing so much as a great flaming flower rising out of the
black water. Below was the straight stalk, a foot or more thick, and above
the dreadful bloom. And as for the fearfulness of it and its fierce and
awesome beauty, who can describe it? Certainly I cannot. Although we were
now some five hundred yards away, it, notwithstanding the steam, lit up the
whole cavern as clear as day, and we could see that the roof was here about
forty feet above us, and washed perfectly smooth with water. The rock was
black, and here and there I could make out long shining lines of ore
running through it like great veins, but of what metal they were I know
not.
On we rushed towards this pillar of fire, which gleamed
fiercer than any furnace ever lit by man.
'Keep the boat to the right, Quatermain -- to the
right,' shouted Sir Henry, and a minute afterwards I saw him fall forward
senseless. Alphonse had already gone. Good was the next to go. There they
lay as though dead; only Umslopogaas and I kept our senses. We were within
fifty yards of it now, and I saw the Zulu's head fall forward on his hands.
He had gone too, and I was alone. I could not breathe; the fierce heat
dried me up. For yards and yards round the great rose of fire the
rock-roof was red-hot. The wood of the boat was almost burning. I saw the
feathers on one of the dead swans begin to twist and shrivel up; but I
would not give in. I knew that if I did we should pass within three or
four yards of the gas jet and perish miserably. I set the paddle so as to
turn the canoe as far from it as possible, and held on grimly.
My eyes seemed to be bursting from my head, and through
my closed lids I could see the fierce light. We were nearly opposite now;
it roared like all the fires of hell, and the water boiled furiously around
it. Five seconds more. We were past; I heard the roar behind me.
Then I too fell senseless. The next thing that I
recollect is feeling a breath of air upon my face. My eyes opened with
great difficulty. I looked up. Far, far above me there was light, though
around me was great gloom. Then I remembered and looked. The canoe still
floated down the river, and in the bottom of it lay the naked forms of my
companions. 'Were they dead?' I wondered. 'Was I left alone in this awful
place?' I knew not. Next I became conscious of a burning thirst. I put my
hand over the edge of the boat into the water and drew it up again with a
cry. No wonder: nearly all the skin was burnt off the back of it. The
water, however, was cold, or nearly so, and I drank pints and splashed
myself all over. My body seemed to suck up the fluid as one may see a
brick wall suck up rain after a drought; but where I was burnt the touch of
it caused intense pain. Then I bethought myself of the others, and,
dragging myself towards them with difficulty, I sprinkled them with water,
and to my joy they began to recover -- Umslopogaas first, then the others.
Next they drank, absorbing water like so many sponges. Then, feeling chilly
-- a queer contrast to our recent sensations -- we began as best we could
to get into our clothes. As we did so Good pointed to the port side of the
canoe: it was all blistered with heat, and in places actually charred. Had
it been built like our civilized boats, Good said that the planks would
certainly have warped and let in enough water to sink us; but fortunately
it was dug out of the soft, willowy wood of a single great tree, and had
sides nearly three inches and a bottom four inches thick. What that awful
flame was we never discovered, but I suppose that there was at this spot a
crack or hole in the bed of the river through which a vast volume of gas
forced its way from its volcanic home in the bowels of the earth towards
the upper air. How it first became ignited is, of course, impossible to
say -- probably, I should think, from some spontaneous explosion of
mephitic gases.
As soon as we had got some things together and shaken
ourselves together a little, we set to work to make out where we were now.
I have said that there was light above, and on examination we found that it
came from the sky. Our river that was, Sir Henry said, a literal
realization of the wild vision of the poet 10, was no longer underground, but was running on its
darksome way, not now through 'caverns measureless to man', but between two
frightful cliffs which cannot have been less than two thousand feet high.
So high were they, indeed, that though the sky was above us, where we were
was dense gloom -- not darkness indeed, but the gloom of a room closely
shuttered in the daytime. Up on either side rose the great straight cliffs,
grim and forbidding, till the eye grew dizzy with trying to measure their
sheer height. The little space of sky that marked where they ended lay like
a thread of blue upon their soaring blackness, which was unrelieved by any
tree or creeper. Here and there, however, grew ghostly patches of a long
grey lichen, hanging motionless to the rock as the white beard to the chin
of a dead man. It seemed as though only the dregs or heavier part of the
light had sunk to the bottom of this awful place. No bright-winged sunbeam
could fall so low: they died far, far above our heads.
By the river's edge was a little shore formed of round
fragments of rock washed into this shape by the constant action of water,
and giving the place the appearance of being strewn with thousands of
fossil cannon balls. Evidently when the water of the underground river is
high there is no beach at all, or very little, between the border of the
stream and the precipitous cliffs; but now there was a space of seven or
eight yards. And here, on this beach, we determined to land, in order to
rest ourselves a little after all that we had gone through and to stretch
our limbs. It was a dreadful place, but it would give an hour's respite
from the terrors of the river, and also allow of our repacking and
arranging the canoe. Accordingly we selected what looked like a favourable
spot, and with some little difficulty managed to beach the canoe and
scramble out on to the round, inhospitable pebbles.
'My word,' called out Good, who was on shore the first,
'what an awful place! It's enough to give one a fit.' And he laughed.
Instantly a thundering voice took up his words,
magnifying them a hundred times. '_Give one a fit -- Ho! ho! ho!' -- 'A
fit, Ho! ho! ho!_' answered another voice in wild accents from far up the
cliff -- a fit! a fit! a fit! chimed in voice after voice -- each
flinging the words to and fro with shouts of awful laughter to the
invisible lips of the other till the whole place echoed with the words and
with shrieks of fiendish merriment, which at last ceased as suddenly as
they had begun.
'Oh, mon Dieu!' yelled Alphonse, startled quite out of
such self-command as he possessed.
'Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!' the Titanic
echoes thundered, shrieked, and wailed in every conceivable tone.
'Ah,' said Umslopogaas calmly, 'I clearly perceive that
devils live here. Well, the place looks like it.'
I tried to explain to him that the cause of all the
hubbub was a very remarkable and interesting echo, but he would not believe
it.
'Ah,' he said, 'I know an echo when I hear one. There
was one lived opposite my kraal in Zululand, and the Intombis [maidens]
used to talk with it. But if what we hear is a full-grown echo, mine at
home can only have been a baby. No, no -- they are devils up there. But I
don't think much of them, though,' he added, taking a pinch of snuff.
'They can copy what one says, but they don't seem to be able to talk on
their own account, and they dare not show their faces,' and he relapsed
into silence, and apparently paid no further attention to such contemptible
fiends.
After this we found it necessary to keep our
conversation down to a whisper -- for it was really unbearable to have
every word one uttered tossed to and fro like a tennis-ball, as precipice
called to precipice.
But even our whispers ran up the rocks in mysterious
murmurs till at last they died away in long-drawn sighs of sound. Echoes
are delightful and romantic things, but we had more than enough of them in
that dreadful gulf.
As soon as we had settled ourselves a little on the
round stones, we went on to wash and dress our burns as well as we could.
As we had but a little oil for the lantern, we could not spare any for this
purpose, so we skinned one of the swans, and used the fat off its breast,
which proved an excellent substitute. Then we repacked the canoe, and
finally began to take some food, of which I need scarcely say we were in
need, for our insensibility had endured for many hours, and it was, as our
watches showed, midday. Accordingly we seated ourselves in a circle, and
were soon engaged in discussing our cold meat with such appetite as we
could muster, which, in my case at any rate, was not much, as I felt sick
and faint after my sufferings of the previous night, and had besides a
racking headache. It was a curious meal. The gloom was so intense that we
could scarcely see the way to cut our food and convey it to our mouths.
Still we got on pretty well, till I happened to look behind me -- my
attention being attracted by a noise of something crawling over the stones,
and perceived sitting upon a rock in my immediate rear a huge species of
black freshwater crab, only it was five times the size of any crab I ever
saw. This hideous and loathsome-looking animal had projecting eyes that
seemed to glare at one, very long and flexible antennae or feelers, and
gigantic claws. Nor was I especially favoured with its company. From every
quarter dozens of these horrid brutes were creeping up, drawn, I suppose,
by the smell of the food, from between the round stones and out of holes in
the precipice. Some were already quite close to us. I stared quite
fascinated by the unusual sight, and as I did so I saw one of the beasts
stretch out its huge claw and give the unsuspecting Good such a nip behind
that he jumped up with a howl, and set the 'wild echoes flying' in sober
earnest. Just then, too, another, a very large one, got hold of Alphonse's
leg, and declined to part with it, and, as may be imagined, a considerable
scene ensued. Umslopogaas took his axe and cracked the shell of one with
the flat of it, whereon it set up a horrid screaming which the echoes
multiplied a thousandfold, and began to foam at the mouth, a proceeding
that drew hundreds more of its friends out of unsuspected holes and
corners. Those on the spot perceiving that the animal was hurt fell upon
it like creditors on a bankrupt, and literally rent it limb from limb with
their huge pincers and devoured it, using their claws to convey the
fragments to their mouths. Seizing whatever weapons were handy, such as
stones or paddles, we commenced a war upon the monsters -- whose numbers
were increasing by leaps and bounds, and whose stench was overpowering. So
fast as we cracked their armour others seized the injured ones and devoured
them, foaming at the mouth, and screaming as they did so. Nor did the
brutes stop at that. When they could they nipped hold of us -- and awful
nips they were -- or tried to steal the meat. One enormous fellow got hold
of the swan we had skinned and began to drag it off. Instantly a score of
others flung themselves upon the prey, and then began a ghastly and
disgusting scene. How the monsters foamed and screamed, and rent the
flesh, and each other! It was a sickening and unnatural sight, and one that
will haunt all who saw it till their dying day -- enacted as it was in the
deep, oppressive gloom, and set to the unceasing music of the many-toned
nerve-shaking echoes. Strange as it may seem to say so, there was
something so shockingly human about these fiendish creatures -- it was as
though all the most evil passions and desires of man had got into the shell
of a magnified crab and gone mad. They were so dreadfully courageous and
intelligent, and they looked as if they understood. The whole scene
might have furnished material for another canto of Dante's 'Inferno', as
Curtis said.
'I say, you fellows, let's get out of this or we shall
all go off our heads,' sung out Good; and we were not slow to take the
hint. Pushing the canoe, around which the animals were now crawling by
hundreds and making vain attempts to climb, off the rocks, we bundled into
it and got out into mid-stream, leaving behind us the fragments of our meal
and the screaming, foaming, stinking mass of monsters in full possession of
the ground.
'Those are the devils of the place,' said Umslopogaas
with the air of one who has solved a problem, and upon my word I felt
almost inclined to agree with him.
Umslopogaas' remarks were like his axe -- very much to
the point.
'What's to be done next?' said Sir Henry blankly.
'Drift, I suppose,' I answered, and we drifted
accordingly. All the afternoon and well into the evening we floated on in
the gloom beneath the far-off line of blue sky, scarcely knowing when day
ended and night began, for down in that vast gulf the difference was not
marked, till at length Good pointed out a star hanging right above us,
which, having nothing better to do, we observed with great interest.
Suddenly it vanished, the darkness became intense, and a familiar murmuring
sound filled the air. 'Underground again,' I said with a groan, holding up
the lamp. Yes, there was no doubt about it. I could just make out the
roof. The chasm had come to an end and the tunnel had recommenced. And
then there began another long, long night of danger and horror. To
describe all its incidents would be too wearisome, so I will simply say
that about midnight we struck on a flat projecting rock in mid-stream and
were as nearly as possible overturned and drowned. However, at last we got
off, and went upon the uneven tenor of our way. And so the hours passed
till it was nearly three o'clock. Sir Henry, Good, and Alphonse were
asleep, utterly worn out; Umslopogaas was at the bow with the pole, and I
was steering, when I perceived that the rate at which we were travelling
had perceptibly increased. Then, suddenly, I heard Umslopogaas make an
exclamation, and next second came a sound as of parting branches, and I
became aware that the canoe was being forced through hanging bushes or
creepers. Another minute, and the breath of sweet open air fanned my face,
and I felt that we had emerged from the tunnel and were floating upon clear
water. I say felt, for I could see nothing, the darkness being absolutely
pitchy, as it often is just before the dawn. But even this could scarcely
damp my joy. We were out of that dreadful river, and wherever we might
have got to this at least was something to be thankful for. And so I sat
down and inhaled the sweet night air and waited for the dawn with such
patience as I could command.