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21 - Baron Trump's Marvellous Underground Journey · Classic Adventure Books Library

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Chapter twenty one. How we were lighted on our way down the dark and
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silent river. Sudden and fierce onslaught upon our beautiful boat of shell, a
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fight for life against terrible odds, And how Bulgar stood by me through it,
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all cold air and lumps of ice, our entry into the cavern,
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whence they came the boat of Shell comes to the end of its forage.
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Sunlight in the world within a world, and all about the wonderful window through
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which it poured and the mysterious land it lighted. I dare say, dear
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friends, that you are puzzling your brains to think out how it was possible
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for me to row away from the wonderful city of the former folk without running
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our boat continually ashore. Ah, you forget that the keen eyed Bulger was
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at the helm, and that it was not the first time that he had
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piloted me through darkness impenetrable to my eyes. But more than this, I
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soon discovered that the plashing of my silver oars kept my little friends, the
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fire lizards, in a constant state of alarm. And although I couldn't hear
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the crackling of their tails, yet the tiny flashes of light served to outline
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the shore admirably. So I pulled away with a will and down this dark
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and silent river, for there was a current, although hardly perceptible. Bulgar
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and I were borne along in the beautiful bark of Tortoiseshell, with its prow
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of carved and burnished silver. During my sojourn in the land of the Pseudopsies,
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I had one day, while calling upon the learned barrel Brow, noticed
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a beautifully carved silver hand lamp of the Pompeian pattern among his curiosities. I
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asked him if he knew what it was. He replied that he did,
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adding that it had doubtless been brought from the upper world by his people,
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and he begged me to accept it as a keepsake. I did so,
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and upon leaving the city of Silver, I filled it with fish oil and
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fitted a silken wick to it. It was well that I had done so,
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for after a while the fire lizards disappeared entirely, and Bowker and I
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would have been left in total darkness had I not drawn forth my beautiful silver
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lamp, lighted it and suspended it from the beak of the silver swan,
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which curved its graceful neck above the bow of our boat. After lying on
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my oars long enough to set some food before bulgar and partake a sum myself,
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I again started on my voyage down the silent river, no longer shrouded
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in impenetrable gloom. I had not taken over half a dozen strokes when suddenly
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one of my oars was almost twisted out of my hand by a vicious tug
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from some inhabitant of these dark and sluggish waters. I resolved to quicken my
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stroke in order to escape another such a wrench, for the silver oars fashioned
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by the Pseudopsis for me, were a very delicate make, intended only for
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very gentle usage. Suddenly, another vicious snap was made at my other oar,
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and this time the animal succeeded in retaining its hold, for I dared
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not attempt to wrench the oar out of its grip for fear of breaking it.
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It was a large cras station of the crab family, and its milk
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white shell gave it a ghost like look as it struggled about in the black
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waters, fiercely intent to keep its hold upon the oar. The next instant,
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a similar creature had fastened firmly upon my other oar, and there I
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sat utterly helpless. But worse than this, the dark waters were now fairly
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alive, with these white armored guards of this underworld stream, each apparently bent
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upon setting an immediate end to my progress through their domain. They now began
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a series of furious efforts to lay hold of the sides of my boat with
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their large claws, but happily, its polished surface made this impossible for them
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to accomplish. Up to this moment, Bulgar had not stirred a muscle or
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uttered a sound, But now a sharp growl from him told me that something
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serious had happened at his end of the boat. It was serious, indeed,
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for several of the largest of the fierce crustaceans had laid hold of the
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rudder and were wrenching it from side to side as if to tear it off.
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Every attempt, of course, caused a tug at the tiller ropes held
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between Bulgar's teeth, But bracing himself firmly, he resisted their furious efforts as
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well as he could, and succeeded in saving the rudder for the time being.
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All of a sudden, our frail bark of shell crashed into some sort
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of obstruction and came to a dead standstill. Peering into the darkness. To
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my horror, I saw that the wily enemy had spanned the river with chains
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made up of living lynx, by each laying hold of his neighbor's claw,
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the chain thus formed, being then rendered almost as strong as steel by the
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interweaving of their double rows of small hooked legs. Our advance was not only
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blocked, but death, an awful death, seemed to be staring us in
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the face. For what possible hope of escape could there be if Bulger and
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I should leap into the water, now alive, with these fast swimming creatures
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whirling their huge claws about in search for some way to get at us.
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From the brave manner in which Bulger was holding the madly swinging helm, I
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saw that he was determined not to surrender. But alas bravery is but a
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sorry thing for two to fight a thousand with. And yet I had not
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lost my head. Don't think that true. I was hard pressed the very
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dust of the balance. If thicker on their side might make my scale kick
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the beam, I had hauled both oars into the boat by reaching over and
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beating off the claws fastened upon them, and had up to this moment driven
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back every one of the fierce creatures, which had succeeded in throwing one of
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its claws over the edge of the boat. But now, to my horror,
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I felt that our little craft was being slowly but surely drawn stern first
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toward the river bank. In order to accomplish this, the crustaceans had thrown
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out a line composed of their bodies gripped together, and had made it fast
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to the rudder. Not an instant was to be lost. Once upon the
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bank, the fierce creatures would swarm around us by the ten thousands, drag
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us down, pinch us to death, and tear us piecemeal. An idea
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flashed upon me. It was this, It is folly to attempt to resist
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these countless swarms of crustaceans by the use of one pair of weak hands,
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even though they be aided by Bulger's keen and willing teeth. We should,
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after a brief struggle, go down, as the brave man in the sewer
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went down when the famished rats leapt upon him from every side at once,
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or as the stray buffalo goes down when the pack of ravenous wolves closes up
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its circle about him. If I am to save my life, it must
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be by striking a blow that will reach every one of these small but fierce
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enemies at the same instant, and thus paralyze them, or at least bewilder
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them, until I can succeed in making my escape. Quickly, drawing my
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brace of pistols, I held their muzzles close to the water and discharge them
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at the same instant. The effect was terrific, like a crash of a
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terrible thunderbolt. The report burst forth and echoed through these vast and silent chambers,
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until it seemed as if the great vaulted roof of rock had, by
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some awful convulsion of nature, been cast roaring and rattling down upon the face
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of these black and sluggish waters. When the smoke had cleared away, a
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strange but welcome sight met my gaze. Tens of thousands of the huge crabs
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floated lifeless upon the surface of the river, with their shells split by the
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concussion the full length of their bodies. It proved to have been a masterly
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stroke on my part, and dear friends, you will believe me when I
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tell you that I drew a deep breath as I set my silver oars against
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the thole pins, and, having worked my boat clear of the swarm of
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stunned crustaceans, rowed away for dear life, Dear life. Ah, yes,
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dear life. For whose life is not dear to him? Even though
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it be dark and gloomy at times? Is there not always something or some
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one to live for? Is there not always a glam glimmer of hope that
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the morrow's sun will go up brighter than it did this morning? Well,
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anyway, I repeat that I rode away for dear life, while Bulgar held
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the tiller ropes and kept our frail bark of polished shell in the middle of
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the stream. Whether the air was actually colder, or whether it was merely
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the natural chill that so often strikes the human heart after it had been beating
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and throbbing with alternate hope and fear, I couldn't say at the time,
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But I knew this much, that I suddenly found myself suffering from the cold
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for the first time since my descent into the world within a world. The
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air nipped my finger tips that soft, balmy, June like atmosphere was gone,
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and I made haste to put on my fur trimmed top coat, which
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I had not made much use of lately. At that moment, one of
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my oars struck against some hard substance floating in the waters. I put out
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my hand to feel of it. To my great surprise, it proved to
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be a lump of ice, and very soon another and another went floating by
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us. We were most surely entering a region where it was cold enough to
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make ice. I was not sorry for this, for, to tell the
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truth, Bulgar and I were both beginning to feel the effects of our long
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sojourn in the rocky chambers of this underworld, whose atmosphere, though soft and
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warm, yet lacked the elasticity of the open air ice caverns would be a
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complete change, and the cold air would no doubt send our blood tingling through
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our veins, just as if we were out a slain in the upper world
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on a winter's night, when the stars twinkle over our heads and the snow
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crystals creak beneath our runners. Soon now huge icicles began to dot the roof
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of rock that spanned the river and shafts and columns of ice dimly visible along
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the shore, seemed to be standing there like silent sentries, watching our boat
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as it threaded its way through the ever narrowing channel, and now to a
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faint glow of light reached us from I knew not where, so that by
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straining my eyes I could see that the river had taken a sweep and entered
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a vast cavern with roofs and walls of ice fretted and carved into fantastic depths
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and niches, and shells and cornices. With hearing, their shapes so fanciful
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that it seemed to me I had entered some vast hall of statuary, where
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hero and warrior, Nymph and maiden shepherd and bird catcher filled these shells and
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niches in glorious array. Farther advance by water was impossible, for the blocks
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of ice, knitted together like a floe, closed the river completely. I
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therefore determined to make a landing, draw my boat upon the shore, and
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continue my journey on foot. The mysterious light, which up to this moment
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had shed its pale glimmer like an Arctic night, upon the roofs and walls
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of ice of these silent chambers now began to strengthen, so that Bulgar and
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I had no difficulty in picking our way along the shore. In fact,
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we crossed and recrossed the river itself when the whims seized us, for it
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now went winding on ahead of us, like a broad ribbon of ice,
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through caverns and corridors. Suddenly I came to a halt and stood as motionless
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as the fantastic forms of ice surrounding me. What could it mean? Were
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my eyes weakened by my long sojourn in the world within a world plain me
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cruel tricks. Surely there can be no mistake, I whispered to myself.
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That light yonder, which pours its glorious effulgence upon those spires and pinnacles,
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those towers and turrets of ice, is the sunshine of the upper world.
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Can it be that my marvelous underground journey is ended, that I stand upon
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the threshold of the upper world once more? Vulgar too recognizes this flood of
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sunshine, and, breaking out into a fit of joyous barking, dashes on
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ahead to be the first one to feel its gentle warmth. After our long
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journey through the dark and silent passages of the world within a world. But
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I dare not trust my eyes, and, fearing lest he should fall into
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some ambush or meet with some dread accident, I called him back to me.
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Together we hurry along as rapidly as possible. Now I note that we
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are drawing near to the end of the vast corridor through which we have been
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making our way for some time, and that we stand upon the portal of
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a mighty subterranean region, lighted with real sunlight. It stretches away as far
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as the eye can reach, And so high is the roof that spans this
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vast under world that I cannot see whether it be of ice or not.
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All that I can see is that through one of its sloping sides there streams
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a mighty torrent of sunlight, which pours its splendor with unstinting hand upon the
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wide highways, the broad terraces, the sheer parapets, and the sloping banks
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which diversify this ice world. Can it be that one side of this mighty
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mountain, which nature has here hollowed out and set like a peaked roof over
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this vast subterranean region, is a gigantic window of ice itself, through which
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the sunlight of the outer world streams in in this grand way, like a
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silent cataract of light, like a deluge of sunshine. No, this could
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not be, for now, upon a second look, I saw that this
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flood of light, thus streaming through the side of the mountain, came through
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it like a mighty pencil of rays, and striking the opposite walls with its
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brilliancy a hundredfold increased, rebounded in a thousand directions, flooding the whole region
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with its s effulgence, and dying away in faint and pearl like glimmer in
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the vast approach where I had first noted it. And therefore I understood that
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Nature must have set a gigantic lens twice a thousand feet or more in diameter
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in the sloping side of this hollow mountain, a perfect lens of purest rock
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crystal, which, in gathering in its mysterious bosom, the sunlight of the
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outer world threw it intensely radiant and dazzling white into the gloomy depths of this
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world within a world, so that when the sun went up out there,
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it went up and here as well, but became cold as it was beautiful,
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bringing no warmth, no other cheer save light to this subterranean region,
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which for thousands of centuries had lain locked in the crystal embrace of frozen lakes
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and brooks, and rivers and torrents and waterfalls, once bubbling and flowing and
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rushing headlong through fair lands of the Upper world, but suddenly checked in their
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course by some bursting forth of mighty pent up forces, and turned downward into
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these icy depths, condemned to everlasting rest and silence, their crystals, locked
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in a sleep that never would know an awakening, mocked in their dreams by
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this mysterious sunlight that came with the smile and the fair, winsome look of
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the real, and yet was so powerless to set them free, as once
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it did when the springtime came in the upper world. All these thoughts,
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and many others besides, flitted through my mind as I stood looking up at
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that mighty lens in its setting of mightier rock, And so deeply impressed was
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I by the sight of such a great flood of sunlight pouring through this gigantic
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hull's eye which Nature had set in the rocky side of the hollow mountain peak
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and illumining this underworld. That the longer I gazed upon the wonderful spectacle,
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the more firmly enthralled my senses became by it. The deep silence, the
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deliciously pure air, the ever varying tints of the light, as the mighty
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ice columns acting the part of prisms, literally filled those vast chambers with the
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rainbow's glorious glow, imparted unto the spell resting upon me such unearthly power that
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it might have held me there until my limbs hardened into icy crystals, and
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my eyes looked out with a frozen stare, had not the ever watchful Bulgar
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given a gentle tug at the skirt of my coat and aroused me from my
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enthralling meditation. End of Chapter twenty one