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Mother Carey's Chicken: Her Voyage to the Unknown Isle, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 35. How The Sulphur Cavern Was Found |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. HOW THE SULPHUR CAVERN WAS FOUND For a few seconds every one stood still as if petrified by the horror of the scene. Then with a hoarse cry the captain dashed to the opening, slipped, and would also have gone down, had he not made a leap and thrown himself headlong across to the other side. Mark stopped short, with a horrified expression on his face, for in those brief moments he suffered all the agony of having seen his father disappear, but almost before the captain had regained his legs the men uttered a warning shout, for there was the gurgling roaring below, a vibration in the earth, and the hot fountain played again to the height of twenty or thirty feet, descended almost as rapidly, and those on one side of the basin, as the water descended, saw the captain on the other side holding Billy Widgeon by the jacket, dragging him from the very edge of the hole to some half a dozen yards away. The next minute all were gathered round where the little sailor lay apparently lifeless. "Is he dead?" whispered Mark, catching at his father's arm. "Not he," cried Small, stooping down and shaking the prostrate man. "Billy, old chap; here, wake up, I say! How goes it?" Billy Widgeon opened his eyes, stared, choked, spat out some water, looked round, and shook his head to get rid of some more. "Eh?" he said at last. "How are you, my man?" said the captain. Billy Widgeon stared at him, then looked all round, rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, stared again, rose, and trotted slowly to the basin, into which he stepped cautiously, and before he could be stopped peered down the hole. He came away directly thereafter shaking his head. "It's a rum un," he said, rubbing one ear, and slowly taking off and wringing his jacket to get rid of the water. "You're not hurt, then?" said the captain, anxiously. "Hurt, sir? No, I don't know as I'm hurt, sir, but I'm precious wet." "How far did you go down?" cried Mark. "How far did I go down?" said Billy, sulkily. "Miles!" "Was it very hot, my man?" said the major. "Hot! Well, if tumbling down a well like that there, and then being shot up again like a pellet out of a pop-gun aren't getting it hot, I should like to know what is?" "I mean was the water very hot?" said the major, as the men, now that there was no danger, began to grin. "'Bout as hot as I likes it, sir; just tidy," replied Billy. "But what did it feel like?" said Mark; "I mean falling down there." "Oh, there warn't no time to feel, Mr Mark, sir. I went down so quickly." "Well, what did it seem like?" said Mark. "Don't know, sir. I was in such a hurry," said Billy. There was a laugh at this, in which Billy joined. "You can't give us any description, then?" said the captain smiling. "No, sir. I only found out one thing--I didn't seem to be wanted down there, being in the way, as you may say, and likely to stop the pipes. And now, Mr Small, sir, I'd take it kindly if you'd come in the wood there with me and lend a hand while I wring all the wet I can out o' my things, as'll make 'em dry more handy." The boatswain nodded, and the pair went in among the trees, leaving the others discussing the narrow escapes and sending a stone or two down, and then a great dead dry stump of a tree-fern, all of which were shot up again, the stones after an interval, the fern stump, which was as long as Billy Widgeon and thicker round, coming up again directly. "Why, major," said the captain at last, "if you had told me all this some day after dinner back in England, I'm afraid I shouldn't have believed you." "I'm sure I should not have believed you," said the major laughing. "It sounds like a sea-serpent story, and I don't think I shall ever venture to tell it unless I can produce the man." At that moment Billy came back out of the jungle, looking very ill-tempered, and his first act as the fount played again, was to go close to the edge of the basin and try the temperature of the water. "Just tidy," he said, as they descended from the level shelf where the geysers were clustered, and along by the little gurgling rocky stream which carried off their overflowings before reaching the slope of the mountain, and beginning to climb with fresh and unexpected wonders on every hand. It was nervous work, for as they climbed the earth trembled beneath their feet; low, muttering, thunderous sounds could be heard, while here and there from crevices puffs of sulphurous, throat-stinging vapour escaped. Then a bubbling hot spring was reached, not a geyser like those on the shelf across the long valley, but a little gurgling fount of the most beautifully pure water, but so heated that it was impossible to thrust a hand therein. "Are we going much higher, Mr Mark?" said Billy Widgeon at last. "Feels to me as if we should go through before we knowed where we was." "Going to the top, I suppose," said Mark, smiling at the man's face, though he could not help feeling some slight trepidation as strange volcanic suggestions of what was beneath them in the mountain kept manifesting themselves at every step. "Oh, all right!" said Billy in a tone of resignation; "but I do purtest, if I am to die, agin being biled." The climb up the mountain side was continued for some time, fresh wonders being disclosed at every step. The jungle grew less thick, with the result that flowers were more plentiful, and if not more abundant the birds and gloriously-painted insects were easier to see. Hot springs were plentiful, and formed basins surrounded by the deposit from the water, a petrifaction of the most delicate tints, while the water was of the most exquisite blue. A little higher, and in a narrow ravine among the rocks a perfect chasm, into which they descended till the sides almost shut out the light of day, so closely did they approach above their heads, Mark, who was in advance, made a find of a deposit of a delicate greenish yellow. "Why, here's sulphur!" he exclaimed, picking up a beautifully crystallised lump, while the rock above was incrusted with angular pieces of extreme beauty. "Yes, sulphur," said the captain; "and I don't think we'll go any farther here. It may be risky." "I'll just see how soon this cleft ends," said the major, approaching what seemed to be the termination of the gorge--quite a jagged rift, cut or split in the side of the mountain. The major went on cautiously, for, as he proceeded, it grew darker, the rift rapidly becoming a cavern. "It runs right into the mountain!" he cried, and his voice echoed strangely. "Here, Mark, my lad, if you want to see some specimens of sulphur, there are some worth picking here." There was something so weirdly attractive in the cavern that Mark followed, and in setting his feet down cautiously on the rocky floor his eyes soon became accustomed to the gloom, and he found that the rock joined about a dozen feet above their head, and was glittering as if composed of pale golden crystals of the most wonderful form. Before him, at the distance of a dozen feet, he could dimly make out the figure of the major, while behind stood the group formed by their companions, looking like so many silhouettes in black against the pale light sent down the chasm from above. "Mind what you're doing," said the captain. "Don't go in too far." "All right!" cried the major; "there's good bottom. It's a lovely sulphur cave. Coming in?" "No," said the captain, sitting down; "I'll wait for you. Make haste, and then we'll go back another way." "Can you see the sides, Mark?" said the major. "Yes, sir. Lovely!" replied the lad. "I should like to take a basketful. I'll break a piece or two off." "Wait a bit," said the major; "there is a lovely piece here. What's that?" Mark listened, as he stood close to the major, where the cavern went right in like a narrow triangle with curved sides. A low hissing noise saluted their ears, apparently coming from a great distance off. "Snakes!" whispered Mark. "Steam!" said the major. "Why, Mark, this passage must lead right into the centre of the mountain. There, listen again! You can hear a dull rumbling sound." "Yes, I can hear it," said Mark in an awe-stricken whisper. "I dare say if we went on we should see some strange sights." "Without lights?" said the captain, who had approached them silently. "Perhaps we should get subterranean fire to show us the interior of the mountain. What do you say?--shall we explore a little further? One does not get a chance like this every day." "I'm willing to come another time with lights, but it would be madness to go on in the dark. How do you know how soon you might step into some terrible chasm?" "Without the slightest chance of being shot out again, like Billy Widgeon!" said the major. "You are quite right; it would be a terribly risky proceeding." They listened, and this time there came a low boom and a roar as if there had been an explosion somewhere in the mountain, and the roar was the reverberation of the noise as it ran through endless passages and rocky ways echoing out to the light of day. "No, it does not sound tempting," said the major. "I don't want to go far. But I must get a specimen or two of this sulphur for the ladies to see." He walked on cautiously. "Mind!" said the captain. "Oh, yes, I'll take care," came back out of the darkness. "I can see my way yet, and the sulphur is wonderful. These will do." A tapping noise followed from about fifty feet away; then the fall of a piece or two of stone, followed by a low hissing sound. "Hear the steam escaping, Mark?" said the captain. "Ah, that's a good bit, as far as I can see. Come, major." There was no answer. "O'Halloran!" cried the captain, and his voice went echoing away into the distance, the name being partly repeated far in, as if whispered, mockingly by some strange denizen of the cavern. "Major O'Halloran!" shouted Mark excitedly. "What's that?" "What, my lad?" cried the captain. "That curious choking sour smell. Ah!" "Back, boy, for your life!" cried the captain, snatching at his son's arm and half dragging him towards where the cave was open to the sky. "Are you all right?" "Yes, yes, father," panted Mark, who was coughing violently. "Is--is-- Oh, father! the major." The captain had taken a handkerchief from his pocket and loosely doubled it, and this he tied over his mouth and nostrils. "Hold my gun, Mark," he whispered; and then hoarsely, as if to himself, "I can't leave him like that, come what may." He paused for a moment to breathe hard and thoroughly inflate his lungs, and then, regardless of the risk of falling, he ran rapidly in, while Mark stood horror-stricken listening to his retiring footsteps. His next act saved the lives of the two men. "Small!--Widgeon!" he cried. "Here, quick!" The two men ran to his side, ready to help. "My father has gone in to help the major. As soon--as he comes--near enough--go and help." The men stood listening; and then, as they heard the coming steps, made a dart in, but returned. "You can't breathe. It chokes you," cried Billy Widgeon. "Take a long mouthful, my lad, and hold your breath," growled the boatswain. "Ha, he's down! Come on!" _ |
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