FOR some time the adventurers stood gazing downward from their lofty perch in silence. Beyond the belt of forest they could see a strip of sandy beach, and beyond this again, the sea, its shimmering surface reflecting the rays of the sun like a gigantic mirror. No dwelling was visible save in one place, where, in a forest clearing, a white house stood, plainly discernible in the clear morning air against the dark green of the foliage.
“See,” the scientist cried, “that is the English mission house. Can we but get down, we shall receive a warm welcome from the missionary, Mr. Travers; he is an old friend of mine.”
“You remember the legends which we heard from the natives, Seymour,” he went on, “when we visited this island some years ago, respecting the strange race of white giants which once inhabited this place?”
“Perfectly,” responded the baronet.
“Well, I think our discoveries in the underworld bear out the truth of the stories. Ever since I knew that the subterranean city was called by the same name as this island my brain has been exercised to account for the coincidence. Chenobi’s statement, that there was a passage through a dead fire-mountain, by means of which his people entered this land, gave me a clue to the mystery, and I formed a theory as to the origin of the Ayutis. But I needed proof ere my idea could become fact, and for that I had to wait until the present moment.”
“And your theory is?” questioned Wilson.
“That the Ayutis once dwelt upon this island which is still named after them; but, for some reason or other—probably through the incursion of enemies—they were forced to take refuge in this crater. They would discover the tunnel through which we came, and, in the hope of finding a securer refuge, would explore it. The rest is obvious.”
“But it must have been long ago,” said Seymour, “for the buildings of the subterranean city are certainly many hundreds of years old.”
“Probably at the time the inhabitants of the British Isles were still savages,” returned Mervyn with a smile, “hunting the buffalo in the swamps and living in caves or mud-huts. But enough of this; let us see if there is any way down. I should like to see my friend, if possible, before we return to look for Garth.”
“I guess that won’t be easy,” remarked the Yankee. “From what I can see, we shall need a considerable length of rope ’fore we can get down, and that’s a commodity we don’t happen to have on hand at present. Still, we might as well prospect a bit.”
The Ayuti was strangely silent as the party moved round the crater rim in an effort to find a spot where the cliff was scalable, and Seymour—who walked beside him—rallied him at length upon his abstraction.
“What ails you, Chenobi,” he asked, “that you are so silent?”
“I am perplexed, Fairhair,” replied the other. “Ere ye came to my land I was content to lead the life of a hunter, to dwell alone, save for my steed and hounds. But now I long for a friend. The time we have spent together hath been very pleasant, but soon ye will return to your own land, and I shall be alone once more.”
“Why not come with us?” burst out the baronet impulsively “there is nothing to keep you down there.”
“First I must perform my vow,” returned Chenobi. “Listen, friend! I had a brother once who was very dear to me. Though we twain were the last of our race, yet were we happy, following the chase together, and waging a grim vendetta against the wolf-people. But by craft Nordhu the priest took my brother while I was absent from the city, and he died beneath the jaws of Rahee. When I knew what had befallen, I vowed before Ramouni that I would destroy the priest and Rahee, the sacred beast. Therefore, until my vow be fulfilled, I cannot go with you.”
“Then let me help you!” the baronet cried. “I, too, have a debt against this same priest. Together we will accomplish his destruction and that of Rahee, then ye shall return with us to our own land.”
“It is well,” returned the king, gripping Seymour’s hand; “we will dwell together as brethren hereafter.”
Quickly the baronet communicated the gist of this conversation to his friends, who all expressed their pleasure at the idea.
“We’ll have him stalking down Bond Street in patent leathers and a topper in three months,” jested Wilson. “If only he’s got a few pounds’ worth of treasure knocking around in that old city of his, he’ll be able to do the foreign ‘dook’ in style.”
“I guess he’d take the shine outer some of your gilded West-Enders, anyway,” retorted the American; “he’s the finest figure of a man your humble ever struck. Say, Mervyn, looks to me as if you’ll have to postpone your visit to your pard, the parson, till we get a rope out of the old Seal’s store-room. There don’t seem no way down these yer plaguey cliffs.”
“We’ll complete the circuit of the crater, nevertheless,” answered the scientist; “there may be a place where descent is possible.”
From the woods below a confused murmur arose. It was the voices of the creatures of the forest, blended by distance into one harmonious whole. The chattering of monkeys, the shrill screaming of parrots, and the melodious notes of other birds as they called to their mates, all had a part in that chorus. And ever and anon a joyous shout would ring upward from the beach, where a number of tiny figures raced to and fro amid the surf. Mere black dots they looked to the group on the crater rim, only to be discerned by careful observation and much straining of the eyes. They were the native children enjoying their early morning dip.
“Makes you wish you could take part in thet little picnic,” drawled Silas. “I reckon a dip in the briny would be considerable refreshing at this yer period. The sun’s gettin’ a darn sight too warm to be pleasant.”
“I was just thinking the same,” Mervyn said, “and since there appears to be no chance of descending to the lower ground without a rope, we may as well get back into the crater.”
This advice was followed, and, ere long, the party were reclining around the spring, recruiting their strength for the return journey. There they waited in happy indolence until the sun had passed the meridian; then they prepared to retrace their steps.
“Now to find Garth,” said the scientist.
“And wipe out Nordhu and the spider,” added Seymour.
“Do you think it wise?” Mervyn asked, “to penetrate again into the dens of the wolf-men? You may not get off so easily another time.”
“Wise or not,” returned the baronet doggedly, “I have given my word to the Ayuti and I shall keep it. Of course, if you do not care to come——”
“You know me better than that,” the scientist replied warmly; “we have passed through too many perils together for you to deem me a coward. Old though I am, I can still do my share when it comes to fighting.”
“Forgive me, old man,” murmured Seymour penitently; “I did not mean to suggest for a moment that I doubted your courage. You know that!”
“Ay, I know, my friend,” was Mervyn’s reply; “don’t think I’m offended by your words. But now let us push forward. The sooner we find Garth the better.”
One last sight they had of the azure dome above them, of the verdure-clothed walls of the ancient crater, then they plunged once more into the darkness of the tunnel, eager to begin the search for their missing comrade.
It was well that no presentiment of all that was to come crossed their minds, no subtle warnings of the perils that awaited them, through which they must pass ere they saw the daylight again, or even their bold spirits might have quailed before the prospect. As it was, knowing nothing, fearing nothing, they moved cheerily onward, making the tunnel ring with their jests and laughter.
* * * * * *
The underworld once more. At the foot of the cliff stairway stood the four explorers, awaiting their guide, who was seeking his elk and the hounds. At intervals they heard his piercing call, ringing out clear through the death-like silence of the place. And not for long did the Ayuti call in vain. Of a sudden a clamorous baying broke out, punctuated by the bellowing of Muswani, and through the twilight, from the direction of the distant lake, came the Ayuti’s pets.
Mounting, he quickly rejoined his friends, and the whole party strode out across the plain.
At the lake, however, a check awaited them. Moving down to the water’s edge, they looked round for the boat in which they had previously crossed, and which they had left drawn up high and dry upon the beach.
It was gone!
Thinking that they had perhaps mistaken the spot, they searched up and down the shore for a considerable distance; but all their seeking was vain. The skin boat had vanished.
“It’s the doing of the wolf-people,” asserted the Ayuti; “see, the hounds have scented them,” and he pointed to the three great dogs, who were sniffing along the shore, as though following a trail.
“Then there is nothing for it but to go round,” said Seymour, and forthwith they started, keeping a sharp look-out for the creatures who had robbed them of their boat. For two hours they strode forward along the shore; then, rounding the head of the lake and splashing across a shallow stream which here entered it, they struck off at a tangent into the jungle, the growths of which were at this point somewhat scattered, there being many open spaces between. Swiftly they moved, yet cautiously, their ears alert to catch the slightest suspicious sound. Once a herd of giant bison thundered across the track before them at a gallop; then a number of elk were sighted, to whom Muswani bellowed a challenge. Unheeding it, however, the brutes dashed swiftly away and disappeared.
The jungle seemed alive with game, but the adventurers had no time for the chase. Their only desire now was to get back to the city with all speed, and to this end they pressed on at their best pace.
Suddenly in the ground before them, its yawning mouth revealed by a clump of fungi growing close to the verge, appeared a black chasm. Some thirty feet by twelve in size, its walls descending sheer as those of a well as far as eye could penetrate into its gloom, it was as weird a place as one could wish to see; and from its dismal depths arose the boom of a waterfall.
“It’s a ghostly hole,” remarked Seymour, pausing for an instant on the brink, and peering downward. His friends, not noting that he had stopped, still held on, until a cry from behind caused them to pull up. Turning, they saw Seymour struggling on the very verge of the abyss with a wolf-man of gigantic stature. The perilous position of the struggling figures unnerved all but Chenobi. He, with a cry of rage, leapt to earth and sprang to the baronet’s assistance. But, ere he could reach the scene of the struggle Seymour and the savage pitched over the brink of the abyss, and, still grappling madly, hurtled into the gloomy depths below.
“Great Heaven!” Mervyn burst out despairingly; “he is lost! My poor friend!”
Haverly’s eyes blazed with a terrible hate.
“Say, Mervyn,” he snapped, “we don’t stir a peg out of this devil’s hole of a country till we’ve avenged poor Seymour. We’ll teach these brutes a lesson they’ll never forget.”
Wilson’s impotent rage was pitiable to witness.
“The best and truest comrade ever man had,” he cried, “sent to his death by a loathsome brute like that. Curse them all, I say!”
The Ayuti said no word, but his face was set stern and pitiless as a mask, boding ill for any luckless savage that should cross his track. With a mad, unreasoning passion raging in their hearts, the four men turned from the abyss, whose black depths had swallowed their friend, and resumed their journey.
Recklessly they moved now, caring little whether they aroused any of the jungle beasts or no, their fury making them absolutely fearless. Let them but find the Seal, and renew their supply of ammunition then they would invade the fastnesses of the wolfish brutes at whose door lay Seymour’s death, and teach them a terrible lesson.
Their journey was finished without further adventure, and at length, reaching the city gate, they passed through and made their way towards the temple.
Their hearts ached for their lost friend. They missed him sorely. His cheery voice, his inspiring courage, had assisted them through many a trying situation, and they could not bear to think that they should never see him again.
Their minds were busy with gloomy thoughts of the future, when they reached the temple steps. These—leaving the Ayuti to stable the elk and chain up the hounds—they were ascending, when, thrilling and terrible, through the silent streets came echoing the cry of the wolf-men.
As it ceased, up the steps bounded Chenobi.
“The wolf-people!” he cried passionately. “Nordhu, the priest, hath lost no time.”
Unslinging the great shield from his back, he took his stand upon the topmost step, his battle-axe flashing like silver beneath the light which shone from the jewel upon his brow. The next moment, into the square below poured a vast throng of savages, and at sight of the motionless figures upon the terrace they once more raised their hideous cry.