I remember that I looked over the brink into the yeasty
abyss with a mind hovering between perplexity and tears. I
wanted to sit down and cry - why, I did not know, except that
some great thing had happened. My brain was quite clear as to
my own position. I was shut in this place, with no chance of
escape and with no food. In a little I must die of starvation, or
go mad and throw myself after Laputa. And yet I did not care
a rush. My nerves had been tried too greatly in the past week.
Now I was comatose, and beyond hoping or fearing.
I sat for a long time watching the light play on the fretted
sheet of water and wondering where Laputa's body had gone.
I shivered and wished he had not left me alone, for the
darkness would come in time and I had no matches. After a
little I got tired of doing nothing, and went groping among the
treasure chests. One or two were full of coin - British sovereigns,
Kruger sovereigns, Napoleons, Spanish and Portuguese
gold pieces, and many older coins ranging back to the Middle
Ages and even to the ancients. In one handful there was a
splendid gold stater, and in another a piece of Antoninus
Pius. The treasure had been collected for many years in many
places, contributions of chiefs from ancient hoards as well as
the cash received from I.D.B. I untied one or two of the little
bags of stones and poured the contents into my hands. Most of
the diamonds were small, such as a labourer might secrete on
his person. The larger ones - and some were very large - were
as a rule discoloured, looking more like big cairngorms. But
one or two bags had big stones which even my inexperienced
eye told me were of the purest water. There must be some new
pipe, I thought, for these could not have been stolen from any
known mine.
After that I sat on the floor again and looked at the water. It
exercised a mesmeric influence on me, soothing all care. I was
quite happy to wait for death, for death had no meaning to
me. My hate and fury were both lulled into a trance, since the
passive is the next stage to the overwrought.
It must have been full day outside now, for the funnel was
bright with sunshine, and even the dim cave caught a reflected
radiance. As I watched the river I saw a bird flash downward,
skimming the water. It turned into the cave and fluttered
among its dark recesses. I heard its wings beating the roof as it
sought wildly for an outlet. It dashed into the spray of the
cataract and escaped again into the cave. For maybe twenty
minutes it fluttered, till at last it found the way it had entered
by. With a dart it sped up the funnel of rock into light and
freedom.
I had begun to watch the bird in idle lassitude, I ended in
keen excitement. The sight of it seemed to take a film from my
eyes. I realized the zest of liberty, the passion of life again. I
felt that beyond this dim underworld there was the great
joyous earth, and I longed for it. I wanted to live now. My
memory cleared, and I remembered all that had befallen me
during the last few days. I had played the chief part in the
whole business, and I had won. Laputa was dead and the
treasure was mine, while Arcoll was crushing the Rising at his
ease. I had only to be free again to be famous and rich. My
hopes had returned, but with them came my fears. What if I
could not escape? I must perish miserably by degrees, shut in
the heart of a hill, though my friends were out for rescue. In
place of my former lethargy I was now in a fever of unrest.
My first care was to explore the way I had come. I ran down
the passage to the chasm which the slab of stone had spanned.
I had been right in my guess, for the thing was gone. Laputa
was in truth a Titan, who in the article of death could break
down a bridge which would have taken any three men an hour
to shift. The gorge was about seven yards wide, too far to risk
a jump, and the cliff fell sheer and smooth to the imprisoned
waters two hundred feet below. There was no chance of
circuiting it, for the wall was as smooth as if it had been
chiselled. The hand of man had been at work to make the
sanctuary inviolable.
It occurred to me that sooner or later Arcoll would track
Laputa to this place. He would find the bloodstains in the
gully, but the turnstile would be shut and he would never find
the trick of it. Nor could he have any kaffirs with him who
knew the secret of the Place of the Snake. Still if Arcoll knew
I was inside he would find some way to get to me even though
he had to dynamite the curtain of rock. I shouted, but my
voice seemed to be drowned in the roar of the water. It made
but a fresh chord in the wild orchestra, and I gave up hopes in
that direction.
Very dolefully I returned to the cave. I was about to share
the experience of all treasure-hunters - to be left with jewels
galore and not a bite to sustain life. The thing was too
commonplace to be endured. I grew angry, and declined so
obvious a fate. 'Ek sal 'n plan maak,' I told myself in the old
Dutchman's words. I had come through worse dangers, and a
way I should find. To starve in the cave was no ending for
David Crawfurd. Far better to join Laputa in the depths in a
manly hazard for liberty.
My obstinacy and irritation cheered me. What had become
of the lack-lustre young fool who had mooned here a few
minutes back. Now I was as tense and strung for effort as the
day I had ridden from Blaauwildebeestefontein to Umvelos'. I
felt like a runner in the last lap of a race. For four days I had
lived in the midst of terror and darkness. Daylight was only a
few steps ahead, daylight and youth restored and a new world.
There were only two outlets from that cave - the way I had
come, and the way the river came. The first was closed, the
second a sheer staring impossibility. I had been into every
niche and cranny, and there was no sign of a passage. I sat
down on the floor and looked at the wall of water. It fell, as I
have already explained, in a solid sheet, which made up the
whole of the wall of the cave. Higher than the roof of the cave
I could not see what happened, except that it must be the open
air, for the sun was shining on it. The water was about three
yards distant from the edge of the cave's floor, but it seemed
to me that high up, level with the roof, this distance decreased
to little more than a foot.
I could not see what the walls of the cave were like, but they
looked smooth and difficult. Supposing I managed to climb up
to the level of the roof close to the water, how on earth was I
to get outside on to the wall of the ravine? I knew from my old
days of rock-climbing what a complete obstacle the overhang
of a cave is.
While I looked, however, I saw a thing which I had not
noticed before. On the left side of the fall the water sluiced
down in a sheet to the extreme edge of the cave, almost
sprinkling the floor with water. But on the right side the force
of water was obviously weaker, and a little short of the level of
the cave roof there was a spike of rock which slightly broke the
fall. The spike was covered, but the covering was shallow, for
the current flowed from it in a rose-shaped spray. If a man
could get to that spike and could get a foot on it without being
swept down, it might be possible - just possible - to do something
with the wall of the chasm above the cave. Of course I
knew nothing about the nature of that wall. It might be as
smooth as a polished pillar.
The result of these cogitations was that I decided to prospect
the right wall of the cave close to the waterfall. But first I went
rummaging in the back part to see if I could find anything to
assist me. In one corner there was a rude cupboard with some
stone and metal vessels. Here, too, were the few domestic
utensils of the dead Keeper. In another were several locked
coffers on which I could make no impression. There were the
treasure-chests too, but they held nothing save treasure, and
gold and diamonds were no manner of use to me. Other odds
and ends I found - spears, a few skins, and a broken and
notched axe. I took the axe in case there might be cutting to do.
Then at the back of a bin my hand struck something which
brought the blood to my face. It was a rope, an old one, but
still in fair condition and forty or fifty feet long. I dragged it
out into the light and straightened its kinks. With this something
could be done, assuming I could cut my way to the level
of the roof.
I began the climb in my bare feet, and at the beginning it
was very bad. Except on the very edge of the abyss there was
scarcely a handhold. Possibly in floods the waters may have
swept the wall in a curve, smoothing down the inner part and
leaving the outer to its natural roughness. There was one place
where I had to hang on by a very narrow crack while I scraped
with the axe a hollow for my right foot. And then about twelve
feet from the ground I struck the first of the iron pegs.
To this day I cannot think what these pegs were for. They
were old square-headed things which had seen the wear of
centuries. They cannot have been meant to assist a climber,
for the dwellers of the cave had clearly never contemplated this
means of egress. Perhaps they had been used for some kind of
ceremonial curtain in a dim past. They were rusty and frail,
and one of them came away in my hand, but for all that they
marvellously assisted my ascent.
I had been climbing slowly, doggedly and carefully, my
mind wholly occupied with the task; and almost before I knew
I found my head close under the roof of the cave. It was
necessary now to move towards the river, and the task seemed
impossible. I could see no footholds, save two frail pegs, and
in the corner between the wall and the roof was a rough arch
too wide for my body to jam itself in. Just below the level of
the roof - say two feet - I saw the submerged spike of rock.
The waters raged around it, and could not have been more
than an inch deep on the top. If I could only get my foot on
that I believed I could avoid being swept down, and stand up
and reach for the wall above the cave.
But how to get to it? It was no good delaying, for my frail
holds might give at any moment. In any case I would have the
moral security of the rope, so I passed it through a fairly
staunch pin close to the roof, which had an upward tilt that
almost made a ring of it. One end of the rope was round my
body, the other was loose in my hand, and I paid it out as I
moved. Moral support is something. Very gingerly I crawled
like a fly along the wall, my fingers now clutching at a tiny
knob, now clawing at a crack which did little more than hold
my nails. It was all hopeless insanity, and yet somehow I did
it. The rope and the nearness of the roof gave me confidence
and balance.
Then the holds ceased altogether a couple of yards from the
water. I saw my spike of rock a trifle below me. There was nothing
for it but to risk all on a jump. I drew the rope out of the
hitch, twined the slack round my waist, and leaped for the spike.
It was like throwing oneself on a line of spears. The solid
wall of water hurled me back and down, but as I fell my arms
closed on the spike. There I hung while my feet were towed
outwards by the volume of the stream as if they had been dead
leaves. I was half-stunned by the shock of the drip on my
head, but I kept my wits, and presently got my face outside
the falling sheet and breathed.
To get to my feet and stand on the spike while all the fury
of water was plucking at me was the hardest physical effort I
have ever made. It had to be done very circumspectly, for a
slip would send me into the abyss. If I moved an arm or leg an
inch too near the terrible dropping wall I knew I should be
plucked from my hold. I got my knees on the outer face of the
spike, so that all my body was removed as far as possible from
the impact of the water. Then I began to pull myself slowly up.
I could not do it. If I got my feet on the rock the effort
would bring me too far into the water, and that meant
destruction. I saw this clearly in a second while my wrists were
cracking with the strain. But if I had a wall behind me I could
reach back with one hand and get what we call in Scotland a
'stelf.' I knew there was a wall, but how far I could not judge.
The perpetual hammering of the stream had confused my wits.
It was a horrible moment, but I had to risk it. I knew that if
the wall was too far back I should fall, for I had to let my
weight go till my hand fell on it. Delay would do no good, so
with a prayer I flung my right hand back, while my left hand
clutched the spike.
I found the wall - it was only a foot or two beyond my
reach. With a heave I had my foot on the spike, and turning,
had both hands on the opposite wall. There I stood, straddling
like a Colossus over a waste of white waters, with the cave
floor far below me in the gloom, and my discarded axe lying
close to a splash of Laputa's blood.
The spectacle made me giddy, and I had to move on or fall.
The wall was not quite perpendicular, but as far as I could see
a slope of about sixty degrees. It was ribbed and terraced
pretty fully, but I could see no ledge within reach which
offered standing room. Once more I tried the moral support of
the rope, and as well as I could dropped a noose on the spike
which might hold me if I fell. Then I boldly embarked on a
hand traverse, pulling myself along a little ledge till I was right
in the angle of the fall. Here, happily, the water was shallower
and less violent, and with my legs up to the knees in foam I
managed to scramble into a kind of corner. Now at last I was
on the wall of the gully, and above the cave. I had achieved by
amazing luck one of the most difficult of all mountaineering
operations. I had got out of a cave to the wall above.
My troubles were by no means over, for I found the cliff
most difficult to climb. The great rush of the stream dizzied
my brain, the spray made the rock damp, and the slope
steepened as I advanced. At one overhang my shoulder was
almost in the water again. All this time I was climbing
doggedly, with terror somewhere in my soul, and hope lighting
but a feeble lamp. I was very distrustful of my body, for I
knew that at any moment my weakness might return. The
fever of three days of peril and stress is not allayed by one
night's rest.
By this time I was high enough to see that the river came
out of the ground about fifty feet short of the lip of the gully,
and some ten feet beyond where I stood. Above the hole
whence the waters issued was a loose slope of slabs and screes.
It looked an ugly place, but there I must go, for the rock-wall
I was on was getting unclimbable.
I turned the corner a foot or two above the water, and stood
on a slope of about fifty degrees, running from the parapet of
stone to a line beyond which blue sky appeared. The first step
I took the place began to move. A boulder crashed into the
fall, and tore down into the abyss with a shattering thunder. I
lay flat and clutched desperately at every hold, but I had
loosened an avalanche of earth, and not till my feet were
sprayed by the water did I get a grip of firm rock and check
my descent. All this frightened me horribly, with the kind of
despairing angry fear which I had suffered at Bruderstroom,
when I dreamed that the treasure was lost. I could not bear
the notion of death when I had won so far.
After that I advanced, not by steps, but by inches. I felt
more poised and pinnacled in the void than when I had stood
on the spike of rock, for I had a substantial hold neither for
foot nor hand. It seemed weeks before I made any progress
away from the lip of the waterhole. I dared not look down, but
kept my eyes on the slope before me, searching for any patch
of ground which promised stability. Once I found a scrog of
juniper with firm roots, and this gave me a great lift. A little
further, however, I lit on a bank of screes which slipped with
me to the right, and I lost most of the ground the bush had
gained me. My whole being, I remember, was filled with a
devouring passion to be quit of this gully and all that was in it.
Then, not suddenly as in romances, but after hard striving
and hope long deferred, I found myself on a firm outcrop of
weathered stone. In three strides I was on the edge of the
plateau. Then I began to run, and at the same time to lose the
power of running. I cast one look behind me, and saw a deep
cleft of darkness out of which I had climbed. Down in the cave
it had seemed light enough, but in the clear sunshine of the
top the gorge looked a very pit of shade. For the first and last
time in my life I had vertigo. Fear of falling back, and a mad
craze to do it, made me acutely sick. I managed to stumble a
few steps forward on the mountain turf, and then flung myself
on my face.
When I raised my head I was amazed to find it still early
morning. The dew was yet on the grass, and the sun was not
far up the sky. I had thought that my entry into the cave, my
time in it, and my escape had taken many hours, whereas at
the most they had occupied two. It was little more than dawn,
such a dawn as walks only on the hilltops. Before me was the
shallow vale with its bracken and sweet grass, and farther on
the shining links of the stream, and the loch still grey in the
shadow of the beleaguering hills. Here was a fresh, clean land,
a land for homesteads and orchards and children. All of a
sudden I realized that at last I had come out of savagery.
The burden of the past days slipped from my shoulders. I
felt young again, and cheerful and brave. Behind me was the
black night, and the horrid secrets of darkness. Before me was
my own country, for that loch and that bracken might have
been on a Scotch moor. The fresh scent of the air and the
whole morning mystery put song into my blood. I remembered
that I was not yet twenty.
My first care was to kneel there among the bracken and give
thanks to my Maker, who in very truth had shown me 'His
goodness in the land of the living.'
After a little I went back to the edge of the cliff. There
where the road came out of the bush was the body of
Henriques, lying sprawled on the sand, with two dismounted
riders looking hard at it. I gave a great shout, for in the men I
recognized Aitken and the schoolmaster Wardlaw.