CHAPTER XXXIV.
ON THE CREST OF THE TIDAL WAVE.
TIME dragged heavily for those left aboard the Seal. There seemed little to do; their preparations for the journey they thought to take ere long, were complete. Ammunition, provisions—consisting for the most part of tinned goods—personal belongings, were alike packed and ready. Nothing at all superfluous was allowed in the packages, for they would only have Muswani to carry their baggage as far as the cliff stairway; for the rest of the journey they would have to bear their own burdens.
Their plans for the future seemed perfect. They were only waiting for Haverly to get a little stronger, ere commencing their march through the jungle to the upper world and daylight. They had yet to learn that “the best laid schemes o’ mice and men gang aft agley.”
“I hope they will not get into danger,” Mervyn remarked, after a long silence; “it’s rather risky, yet we cannot blame Chenobi for wishing to secure the jewels.”
“He would be in a rather peculiar position above ground without money,” returned Garth, “and I fear he would be too proud to accept help from one of us. Anyway, he and Seymour should be safe enough. They are well armed, and——”
Out of the distance came a sullen muttering, as of far-distant thunder, and at the sound Garth’s sentence died on his lips.
“Whatever’s that?” Wilson asked.
Striding out on deck, Mervyn leaned over the rail, and stood listening for a repetition of the sound. Again it came, low as before, reverberating amid the hills like the roll of many drums.
“I don’t like it,” the scientist muttered, as Garth and the engineer joined him; “have you noticed how remarkably still the water has grown during the last few hours? See how gently the waves come in; there is scarcely more motion than on a mill-pond.”
“What do you infer from that?” asked Garth.
“That we are about to witness some phenomenon peculiar to this underworld,” replied Mervyn. “What form it will take I do not know, but I heartily wish Seymour and the king were back.”
“They should not be long now in any case,” rejoined the engineer; “they have been gone over three hours. I say, we must get the Seal off again. The water’s receding!”
It was true. Although the flood-tide had not yet reached its height, the water was rapidly running out from shore, and the Seal was fast being left high and dry.
“Full speed astern, Tom!” Garth cried, as he and Wilson darted into the wheelhouse. Down the steps the engineer bounded, two at a time, and hurled himself along the corridor of the engine-room.
Clank! The levers went over with all his force behind them. The gleaming cranks flew round in a halo of dazzling light, but the vessel moved not an inch. Her propellers shrieked on the air, for the water had entirely receded, and she was hard and fast ashore.
With a muttered exclamation the lad left the engine-room.
“No use?” he said, as he re-entered the turret.
“Not a bit,” returned Garth. “It’s the queerest thing I ever knew. Mervyn can’t account for it either. The water simply ran out as though a hole had opened in the sea-bed. See, there is no water in sight anywhere; nothing but sand.”
“It’s a licker!”
The two men turned at the words. Haverly had entered the turret.
“My word, Silas,” exclaimed Wilson, “you’ll get it hot if the professor sees you! You ought not to be up yet.”
“I guess I’m the best judge of that,” retorted the American with a feeble smile. “I calculated as a constitutional ’ud set me up some, so here I am. But what in the name of blazes has come to the water? Have yer plumped the old boat down in the middle of a desert, or what?”
Quickly Garth explained the extraordinary phenomenon they had witnessed.
“And Mervyn can’t figure it out either?” questioned Haverly.
“No,” returned the inventor, “he’s as much in the dark as we are. But here he comes; you can question him yourself.”
“Say, Mervyn, can’t you enlighten us some?” Silas asked, as the scientist came in from the deck.
“Whatever are you doing here, Silas?” he asked sternly. “You should not have ventured up so soon.”
“I guess I’ll improve considerable more rapid up here than down below,” returned the Yankee.
“Perhaps so,” was the reply, “if you only take care. But you must not abuse your returning strength.”
“No, I cannot explain the phenomenon,” he went on, shaking his head, “though I fear it must be due to volcanic agency. Hark!”
Again that thunder-like muttering rolled out of the distance, but the attention of the comrades was distracted from the ominous sound by a faint cry from Haverly.
“Jupiter! Another fire-message!”
Away over a spur of the distant hills an arch of fire flamed into view, and silhouetted against its golden splendour were eight grotesque figures.
“Can you translate, professor?” cried Haverly; “these signs mean something or other, you can bet your boots.”
Garth and Wilson waited eagerly for the scientist’s answer. It came at length.
“Nordhu, son of Nordhu, will avenge his sire!”
“And that’s the message?” the engineer asked, as the blazing bow waned and died.
“That’s the translation,” returned Mervyn, abstractedly.
“Then I guess we must look out for trouble, and that right soon,” remarked Silas. “If this new Nordhu’s anything like the old man, he’ll be on our trail in less than no time.”
“We’re in a nice lively position to receive an attack of savages,” said Garth, “with the old Seal as helpless as a log.”
“I reckon we’ve come out of tighter corners than this yer,” retorted Silas, “though I allow I’d feel kinder easier if William and the Ayuti ’ud show up. You say they’ve gone to the city?”
“Yes,” returned Wilson, shortly.
“If they ain’t along presently,” pursued the Yankee, “they’ll find some of the wolfies laying for ’em. Them priests are real hustlers when it comes to a scrap. I’d advise as you loose a gun or two off. They might hear the reports.”
“A good idea,” Garth cried, and snatching up a magazine rifle, discharged it to the last cartridge.
“That ought to fetch ’em,” remarked Haverly cheerfully.
Boom! Once more that muffled explosion shook the underworld, succeeded this time by a continuous roar as of a mighty cataract. Thoroughly alarmed, the explorers gazed in the direction whence came the sound. Far away down the coast, its towering crest gleaming through the twilight, appeared a wall of water. With fearful rapidity it roared down upon the helpless vessel.
“Great Heaven!” Mervyn burst out, “a tidal wave! We are lost!” Even while the words trembled on his lips, a shout rang high above the boom of the approaching wave, and down the beach at a furious gallop came Muswani. The Ayuti evidently fully realised the peril of the situation. Straight for the motionless Seal he steered his magnificent steed. A few yards from the rail a word of command pealed from his lips, and at that the mighty elk hurled himself into the air. Clearing the rail by a couple of feet, he landed with a crash upon the deck, the hounds following like shadows at his heels.
Quick as thought the two men leaped from his back, and raced for the turret. Then, as the door crashed to behind them and the hounds, and before ever Muswani could leap ashore, the watery wall struck the Seal.
For one brief instant it seemed as though the ill-fated craft would be overwhelmed. The water foamed and surged, boiled and eddied around her; but by some fortunate chance she was lifted high upon the crest of the giant wave, and was swept forward like a feather.
“Try your engines,” Garth bawled to his friend, and instantly Wilson darted below again. But the engines with all their power were as toys in the grip of the waters. No power on earth could have forced the vessel forward against that foaming torrent. Lucky, indeed, had Seymour and the Ayuti been to arrive at the moment they did. A few seconds later, and they had been left ashore, separated by many miles of raging water from the vessel and their friends. Their position they knew was perilous in the extreme. At any instant the submarine might be hurled against some iron cliff and shattered like matchwood; yet dangers faced together lost half their terror. United the little band felt equal to anything; so keeping a cheerful courage, they awaited with what patience they could muster the time when the force of the wave should expend itself.
But the time sped by, and still the waters roared onward; still the Seal danced and whirled amid the foam-capped waves.
Outside, motionless as a statue, keeping his balance upon the slippery deck with wonderful skill, stood Muswani. Not all the violent lurches of the submarine could shake the great elk from his footing. He was immovable as though he were part of the vessel itself.
Chenobi gazed with pride upon his giant steed. It would mean no slight wrench when the time came for him to part with the magnificent brute; but that had not to be considered yet. Time enough to think of that when they got out of the grip of the tidal wave, which foamed forward relentless as ever.
The shore had long since faded from view. Nought was visible on either hand but a waste of waters, tumbling and foaming in mad confusion. And ever and anon a thunderous explosion would burst out, echoing across the water like the firing of great guns.
Once, close alongside, the mighty body of an ichthyosaurus was flung up, rent and torn in ghastly fashion by some giant natural force.
Suddenly a cry came from Seymour.
“Great Scott! Look there!”
The others turned quickly. To starboard a beetling line of cliffs loomed into view, threatening and terrible. Next moment an exclamation from the American announced the appearance of a similar barrier upon the port side. Through the canyon or gorge thus formed, the waters swept in a maddened torrent, the Seal lurching and rolling in a fashion which bade fair to capsize her. A hundred times—ay, more—she seemed likely to be dashed against one or other of the rocky walls, but by a miracle she escaped destruction in this manner.
So for perhaps an hour she was swept forward; then a terrible fact became apparent to the adventurers. Silas was the first to notice it.
“Say!” he remarked, “I guess these yer cliffs are closing in on us.”
“What do you mean?” asked the scientist; “how closing in?”
“Just cast your eye to the top of this starboard wall,” was the reply; “if the hull outfit ain’t leaning outward, call me a darn nigger.”
An instant’s scrutiny showed Mervyn that the thing was true.
Shaken to its foundations by the force of the explosions, which moment by moment were becoming more frequent, the whole cliff was tottering to its fall. How long it would be ere it thundered down upon the hapless submarine none could tell.
“Full speed ahead!” Silas snapped, his voice recovering its strength under the excitement of the moment; “we must get out of this or we’re done.”
All saw the force of his words, and within two minutes the Seal was leaping forward like a flash of light, her whole hull quivering with the throb of the engines. Her pace was tremendous. The cliffs dashed past in a dazzling line on either side, and still the tottering mass to starboard hung poised, as though loth to crush the gallant vessel and her crew.
The moments seemed to crawl by, and each was laden with the suspense of a century. How long till this gorge shall end? was the cry of each of the comrades. How long till these rocky walls shall cease?
Then suddenly, a sheet of open water appeared ahead, and at the sight a simultaneous cry of relief went up. Another moment and the vessel would have been out of the gorge, and safe from the perils of the crumbling cliff; but in the very instant of her escape, like the crack of doom, a thunderous explosion volleyed through the canyon.
With the sound, the tottering wall of rock bent and swayed, then crashed downward with a deafening roar. Almost, the Seal was clear of the falling débris—almost, but not quite. A colossal boulder caught her stern, ripping the whirling propellers from their sockets, and smashing her steering gear to a mass of scrap-iron.
“Done!” Garth gasped, staggering under the shock; “the beastly thing’s snapped the propellers, and they were the only ones I had.”
The others did not take in the significance of this remark for some moments. They were too occupied in a scrutiny of the curious place the Seal had entered. It was a great circular basin or funnel, enclosed on every side by towering cliffs, and around it the water was sweeping in a giant eddy. Into this the vessel was instantly drawn, being helpless as any log in the whirling water.
Turning, the adventurers gazed towards the gorge through which they had come. It had ceased to be. The fall of the cliff had completely choked the passage, and the basin was now without outlet!
“I guess the old Seal’s fairly trapped,” remarked Silas gloomily; “it would ha’ been better if the plaguey cliff had buried us all, ’stead of shuttin’ us up in this hole.”
As he spoke, Wilson came upstairs.
“You’d better come down, Garth,” the engineer said; “there’s a bad smash astern, and I can’t manage it myself.”
Glad of aught to relieve the awful depression which had succeeded the excitement of the race through the gorge, the inventor followed his friend below, to do what he could towards patching up the damage.
“It’s a terrible outlook,” Mervyn muttered, “to be fastened up here until our provisions give out, and then—death by starvation.”
“A terrible outlook indeed,” granted Seymour. “It’s maddening to think that we have escaped all the perils of the underworld, only to be hopelessly imprisoned in this rocky basin.”
“Say, what’s this steam mean?” asked Haverly, who stood with face pressed to the glass. A mist-like vapour had commenced to rise from the surface of the gyrating water, growing denser in volume each moment, until the walls of the basin were almost hidden.
“Trouble again, I reckon,” the American continued; “I guess we’ve struck little else this trip, so far.”
“Some volcanic disturbance,” exclaimed Mervyn. “I——” The words died on his lips in a gasp, as a fresh development forced itself upon his notice. The water in the basin was rising!
“Wal, that licks all!” cried Silas, as he too became aware of this new movement; “not content with pluggin’ us up here, it’s goin’ to jam us up against the roof.”
“It will merely shorten the period of our imprisonment,” returned the baronet, and then silence fell between the watchers.
An hour dragged by, and still the waters rose; still the submarine was borne upwards. Anxiously the comrades peered out into the misty atmosphere, wondering how this strange adventure would end. Even the iron-nerved Ayuti grew uneasy as time went by, a feeling shared by his hounds, who, scared by the repeated explosions, whined pitifully at intervals.
Muswani—motionless as ever—still kept his position upon the deck, being the only member of the party who seemed not at all dismayed by the strangeness of the situation.
Time crawled on. Many thousands of feet the Seal must have risen, when a sharp cry came from Haverly:
“The roof!”
Close upon his words came a report like a thunderclap, and a dazzling shaft of flame leapt from the surface of the water, illuminating the rocky walls of the basin and—scarce ten feet above—the roof.
“We must sink her,” Mervyn cried, and darted to the stairs for the purpose of calling Garth. Ere he could reach them, however, a second report burst out. The dark mass of the roof above seemed to bend downwards. There was a roaring as of a thousand Niagaras; the swirl of many waters; a thunderous crash as though the earth itself were splitting asunder; then darkness!