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

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Chapter twenty. This is a long and sad chapter. It tells how dear
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gentle pouting Lip was lost, and how the Pseudopsis grieved for him and whom
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they suspected. Bulgar gives a striking proof of his wonderful intelligence, which enables
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me to convince the Pseudopsis that my dance inspector did not cause pouting Lip's death.
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The true tale of his terrible fate. What follows my discovery, how
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a beautiful boat is built for me by the grateful pseudopsies, and how Bulgar
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and I bid adieu to the land of the make believes twas the custom in
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the city of Silver to touch all around, as it was called, before
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going to rest. The touch all around began in a certain quarter of the
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city and passed with wonderful rapidity from man to man. Exactly how it was
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done I never could understand, But the purpose of the mysterious signaling was to
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make an actual count of all the form of folk. If a single one
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were missing, it would be most surely discovered by the time the touch all
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around had been completed. It proceeded with lightning like rapidity throughout the city,
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and then if no return signal was made. The people knew that every one
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was in his proper place, and that no pseudopsy had lost his way or
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fallen ill in some unfrequented passage. I don't think that I had more than
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dropped off to sleep when I was aroused by Bulger's gentle tugging at my sleeve,
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rubbing my eyes. I sat up in bed and listened. Instantly my
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ear caught that faint shuffling sound which was always perceptible when any number of the
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former folk were hurrying hither and thither over the polished silver pavement. I sprang
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out of bed and rushed to the door, Bulger close at my heels.
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What a strange sight confronted me. I could compare it to nothing, save
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to the appearance of a large ant hill when some mischievous boy suddenly drops a
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stone among the crowd of petty, patient, plodding people peacefully pursuing their work.
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In an instant, all is changed. Lines are broken, workmen jostle
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workmen. Order becomes disorder. Regularity is changed to confusion. Hither and thither
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the affrightened creatures rush with waving feelers, seeking for the cause of the mad
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outburst. Of terror. So it was with a former folk. As I
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looked out upon them, with outstretched hands and tremulously moving fingers, they rushed
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from side to side, jostling and bumping one another, while a nameless dread
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was depicted upon their upturned faces. Anon a group would halt, join hands
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and begin to exchange thoughts by lightning like pressures, tappings, and strokes,
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when others would dash against them, break them apart, and confusion would reign
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greater than ever. But gradually I noted that some sort of order seemed to
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be coming out of the movements of this mad throng. Here and there groups
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of three and foward foreman clasp hands. Then these smaller circles would break and
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form into larger ones. And I noted too that this ever increasing circle was
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formed on the outside of the panic stricken crowd, and as it grew,
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it shut them in, so that when a fleeing Sudopsy hurtled up against this
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steady line, his terair left him at once, and he took his place
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in it. In a few moments, the madly pushing, jostling throng had
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disappeared entirely, and the whole city was girt round by these long, steady
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lines, the great circle had been formed. After half an hour, the
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deliberation was completed, and to my surprise, the great Circle broke up into
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squads and companies of fours and sixes and tens, and then each disappeared,
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slowly and steadily with locksteps, passing out of the city into dark or only
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partially lighted chambers and passages that surrounded it. The search for the missing pseudopsy
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had been begun. It was hours before the last squad had returned to the
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square and the great Circle had been formed again. Alas the news was sad.
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Indeed, there came no tidings of the missing man. He was lost
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forever, And with clasped hands and slow and heavy step, the grieving former
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folk made their way back to their homes, where the sinne women and children
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were awaiting their coming. As Bulger and I went back to bed again,
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it almost seemed to me as if I could hear at times the deep and
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long drawn sighs that escaped from the gentle breasts of the sorrowing pseudopsies. I
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noticed a very touching thing on the following day. It was that every man,
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woman and child in the city of Silver, grieve for the lost Pudopsy,
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as if he were actually brother to each one of them. Love was
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not, as with us in the upper world, a thing bestowed upon those
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in whom we see our own vases repeated, and in whose voices we hear
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our own ring out again, sweet and clear, as in our childhood.
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In other words, a love almost of our very selves. Oh No,
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while it was true that a mother's touch was most tender to her own child,
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yet no little hands stretched out to her went without its caress. She
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was mother to them. All to her they were all beautiful, and as
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their little frocks were all woven in the same loom, there never could come
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into her mind a temptation to feel whether a rich neighbor's child was playing with
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hers, and that therefore it ought to receive a more loving caress. In
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that portion of the city where the children had their playgrounds, the silver pavement
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was in some places marked off with raised lines and letters, something after the
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manner of our hopscotch, for the purpose of a game, which was very
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popular with the little Sodopsis. Its name is hard to translate, but it
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meant something like little Boogeyman. And many an hour had Bulgar and I stood
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there watching these silent little gnomes at play, fascinated by the wonderful skill which
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they would display in feigning the drawing near the little Boogeyman, their hiding from
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him, his stealthy approach, the increasing danger, the attack, the escape,
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the new dangers, wild flight, and mad pursuit. Fancy. Therefore
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my astonishment one morning to note that Bulger was coaxing me thither, although the
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place was quite deserted, the children being all at their lessons. But as
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it was a rule of mine always to humor Bulgar's whims, I went patiently
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along. In a moment, as we came to the spot where the pavement
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was marked off and inscribed as I have explained, he halted, and,
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with an anxious whine, began to play the game of the Little Boogeyman,
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turning every now and then to see what effect his actions had upon me.
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He made no mistakes. As he entered each compartment, he rested his paw
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upon the raised letters, as he had so often seen the children do with
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their little bare feet, and then mimic with wonderful fidelity their actions, beginning
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with the first scent of danger, and ending with mad terror at the close
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pursuit of the boogeyman. I was more than surprised. I was bewildered by
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this piece of mimicry on Bulgar's part. To my mind, it boded some
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terrible accident to him. For I have a superstitious notion that great danger to
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an animal's life gives him for the moment and almost human intelligence. It is
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nature caring for her own. But all of a sudden the real truth in
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this case burst upon me. It was not my dear little brother giving me
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to understand that some peril was threatening him, but that some danger was hanging
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over my head. The more real in that it was unseen and unsuspected by
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me. I called him to me and rewarded him with a caress. He
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was overjoyed to note that I had apparently understood him. I now made haste
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to seek out barrel Brow. He was surprised to feel my salutation in a
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moment or so I had told him all. Nor was he slow in detecting
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my excitement. He no doubt felt that in the changed character of my handwriting,
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calm thyself, little Baron. He wrote the wise Bulgar has told the
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truth. Thy life is in danger. I had resolved to send for THEE
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this very day to warn THEE of it, to bid THEE quit the land
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of the former folk in all haste, for the notion had spread among our
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people that it was the advancing Specter at thy heels which caused the death of
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the gentle Pouting Lip, who disappeared so mysteriously the other day. I therefore
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counsel THEE that thou make ready at once to quit our city tomorrow before the
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clocks roused the people from their sleep. I thanked beryl brow and promised that
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I would heed his advice, although I confessed to him that I would fain
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have bide it a few weeks longer. There were so many things in and
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about the wonderful city of Silver that I had not seen. But I owed
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it to the dear hearts of my own world to take the best care of
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my life. Insignificant though it might appear to me, then again, I
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felt that it would be madness to attempt to reason with the pseudopsys. To
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them, the dancing Specter at my heels was a real being of flesh and
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bud, Although they had not been able to seize him, and it was
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really natural for them to suspect that we had made away. With pouting lip
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calling out to Bulgar to follow me, I left berrel Brow's home, resolved
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to make one more round of the wonderful city, and then pack up some
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food and clothing, and be all ready for a start before the clocks began
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their tapping. I should explain, dear friends, that, as happens in
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all cities, the people of this one imagined at times that they hadn't quite
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elbow room enough, and hence they surveyed other chambers and set up new candelabra
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within them in order to chase the cold and dampness away and make them fit
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for human habitations. In the last one, which they had in this way
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annexed to their fair city, fitting it with a silver doorway and tiling the
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floor with polished plates of the same beautiful metal, they had discovered a hard
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mound, apparently of rock in one corner, and had resolved that they would
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come some day with their drills and picks and begin the task of removing this
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mound. A strange inclination came upon me to visit this new chamber in order
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to inspect the work of these eyeless workmen and see how far they have proceeded
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with their task of transforming a cold and rocky vault into a bright, warm,
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healthy habitation. Imagine my surprise to hear Bulgar utter a low growl as
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we reached the entrance, and I put out my hand to swing the door
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open, for the Pseudopsis were not at work there that day, and the
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place was as silent as a tomb. Glancing through the grating, a sight
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met my gaze, which caused my flesh to creep and my hair to stiffen.
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What think, ye was it? Why the mound in the cotton was
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rocking and swaying, and from underneath one end issued a loud and angry hissing.
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I'm no coward, if I do say it myself, but this was
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just a little too much for ordinary or even extraordinary flesh to bear without flinching.
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I staggered back with a suppressed cry of horror, and was upon the
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point of breaking into a mad flight when the thought flashed through my mind that
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the door was securely fastened, and that there would be no danger in my
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taking another look at the terrible monster thus caged in this chamber. A great
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snakelike head was now lifted from beneath one edge of the mound, and on
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the end of a law swain neck. Its great round eyes, big as
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an oxus, stared with dull, cold, glassy look from wall to wall,
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and then, with an awful outburst of hissing, the whole mound was
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suddenly raised upon four great legs, thick as posts and ending in terrible claws
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and porn, rocking and swaying into the center of the chamber. What was
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this terrible monster? And where had it come from? Why I saw through
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it all now at a glance it was a gigantic tortoise eight feet long by
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five wide at least, and once an inhabitant of the upper world thousands and
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thousands of years ago, by the coming of the awful fields of ice,
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it had been forced to fly from certain death by crawling down into these underground
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caverns. Here, chilled and numbed by the dampness and cold, it had
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fallen asleep, and would have continued to sleep on from or other ages to
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come, had not the industrious form of folk lighted the clusters of burning jets
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of gas in the monster's bedroom. Gradually the warmth had penetrated the roof of
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shell made thicker by earth, and layer of broken rock which the tooth of
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time had dropped upon it, and reached his great heart and set it beating
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again, slowly, very slowly, but faster and faster, until he really
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felt that he had awakened from his long sleep by a terrible misfortune. Pouting
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lip, the gentle Sodopsy had happened to be left behind when his brother laborers
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quit work and the new silver doors of the chamber had been closed upon him.
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Oh, it was terrible to think of, but true it must have
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been the poor little Soudopsy, shut in by his own eyeless folk in this
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chamber, which he was helping to beautify by his patient's skill, had served
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to satisfy the hunger of this awful monster after his long ages of fasting.
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But why you ask, dear friends, was all this not discovered when the
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great circle had been formed and the search was made for him? Simply because
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the monster, after devouring the lost Soudopsy, retreated to his nest and drew
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the dirt and crumbled rock up around him with its gigantic flippers. And went
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to sleep again, as all gorged reptiles do, so that when the searchers
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entered the new chamber, all was as they had left it, the mound
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of rock as they had supposed it to be in the corner, undisturbed.
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With Bulgar at my heels, I now turned and ran with such mad haste
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to barrel Brows that the whole city was thrown into the wildest disorder, For
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of course they had felt me fly past them with all the quickness I could
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command. I wrote an account of what I had witnessed, and when Beryl
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Brow communicated it to the assembled pseudopsies, a thousand hands flew into the air,
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and token of mingled fright and wonder, and a wild rush was made
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for Bulgar and me, and we were well nigh smothered with kisses and caresses.
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The moment the excitement had quieted down a little, a great circle was
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immediately formed, and I was honored with a place in it. And when
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my tablet was passed about a thousand hands made signs of ascent. My plan
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was a simple one. It was to make a pipe connection between up a
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slock and the new chamber, and to turn the deadly vapor into the sleepy
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department of the gigantic Monster. In this manner, his despatch would be a
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happy one, merely a beginning of another one of his long naps, so
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far as he would know anything about it. This was done at once,
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care, first being taken to make the doors of the new chamber perfectly air
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tight. I was the first to enter the cavern after the execution of the
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monster, and found to my delight that my estimate of his length and width
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was correct, almost to an inch. I had always had a wonderful eye
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for dementia and distances. Seen Bulgar raising himself upon his hind legs and make
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an effort to dislodge something from the wall, I drew nearer to assist him.
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Alas it was dear gentle pouting lips tablet. He had been writing upon
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it, and as the terrible Monster advanced upon him, he had reached up
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and hung it upon a silver pin on the wall. When the pseudopsis read
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what their poor brother had written there, they all sat down and wrung their
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hands in silent but awful grief. It ran as follows, O, my
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people, why have ye abandoned me? The air trembles, the whole places
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filled with suffocating odor. Must I die alas I fear it? And yet
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I would so love to feel my dear ones touch us once more. The
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ground trembles, A stafling breath is puffed into my face. I am wearied,
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almost fainting by trying to escape it. I can write no more.
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Don't grieve too long over me. It was my fault. I stayed behind
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kind when I should have followed. Oh, horrible, horrible farewell. I'm
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going now, I loven touch to all farewell. After waiting a few days
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for the grief of the former folk to lighten a little, I asked them
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to send a number of their most skillful workmen to assist me in removing the
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magnificent shell from the dead monster, whose body was fed to the fishes.
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They not only did this, but they also offered to transform the shell into
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a beautiful boat for me, so that when I resolved to bid them adieu,
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I might sail away from the city of Silver and not be obliged to
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trudge along the marble highway. The work went on apace. At first.
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The polishers began their task, and in a few days the mighty carapace glowed
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like a lady's comb. Then the dainty and cunning craftsmen in silver began their
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part of the work, and ere many days the shell was fitted with a
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silver prow curiously rocked like a swan's neck and head, while quaintly carved trimmings
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ran here and there. And a dainty pair of silver skulls with a silver
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rudder, beautifully chaste, from which ran two little silken ropes were added to
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the outfit. I never had seen anything half so rich and rare, and
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I was as proud of it as a young king of his throne before he
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finds it is so much like my ship of shell. And last the day
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came when I was to bid the gentle pseudopsies a long farewell. They lined
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the shore as Bulgar and I proceeded to take our place in the bark of
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shell, which sat upon the water like a thing of life. It was
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with great show of dignity that Bulgar took his position in the stern, with
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the tiller ropes in his mouth, ready to pull on either side as I
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might direct, and setting the silver oars in place, I threw my weight
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upon them, and away we glided swiftly and noiselessly over the surface of the
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dark and sluggish stream. In a few moments, nothing but a faint glimmer
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was left to remind us of the wonderful city of Silver, where the silent
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former folk live and love and labor, without ever a thought that human beings
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could be any happier than they dear happy folk. They have solved a mighty
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problem of which we of the upper world are still struggling over. End of chapter twenty