Allan Quatermain

H >> H. Rider Haggard >> Allan Quatermain


All this time we were continually ascending at the rate of about
one hundred feet every ten miles. Indeed the country was on
a slope which appeared to terminate at a mass of snow-tipped
mountains, for which we were steering, and where we learnt the
second lake of which the wanderer had spoken as the lake without
a bottom was situated. At length we arrived there, and, having
ascertained that there _was_ a large lake on top of the mountains,
ascended three thousand feet more till we came to a precipitous
cliff or edge, to find a great sheet of water some twenty miles
square lying fifteen hundred feet below us, and evidently occupying
an extinct volcanic crater or craters of vast extent. Perceiving
villages on the border of this lake, we descended with great
difficulty through forests of pine trees, which now clothed the
precipitous sides of the crater, and were well received by the
people, a simple, unwarlike folk, who had never seen or even
heard of a white man before, and treated us with great reverence
and kindness, supplying us with as much food and milk as we could
eat and drink. This wonderful and beautiful lake lay, according
to our aneroid, at a height of no less than 11,450 feet above
sea-level, and its climate was quite cold, and not at all unlike
that of England. Indeed, for the first three days of our stay
there we saw little or nothing of the scenery on account of an
unmistakable Scotch mist which prevailed. It was this rain that
set the tsetse poison working in our remaining donkeys, so that
they all died.

This disaster left us in a very awkward position, as we had now
no means of transport whatever, though on the other hand we had
not much to carry. Ammunition, too, was very short, amounting
to but one hundred and fifty rounds of rifle cartridges and some
fifty shot-gun cartridges. How to get on we did not know; indeed
it seemed to us that we had about reached the end of our tether.
Even if we had been inclined to abandon the object of our search,
which, shadow as it was, was by no means the case, it was ridiculous
to think of forcing our way back some seven hundred miles to
the coast in our present plight; so we came to the conclusion
that the only thing to be done was to stop where we were -- the
natives being so well disposed and food plentiful -- for the
present, and abide events, and try to collect information as
to the countries beyond.

Accordingly, having purchased a capital log canoe, large enough
to hold us all and our baggage, from the headman of the village
we were staying in, presenting him with three empty cold-drawn
brass cartridges by way of payment, with which he was perfectly
delighted, we set out to make a tour of the lake in order to
find the most favourable place to make a camp. As we did not
know if we should return to this village, we put all our gear
into the canoe, and also a quarter of cooked water-buck, which
when young is delicious eating, and off we set, natives having
already gone before us in light canoes to warn the inhabitants
of the other villages of our approach.

As we were puddling leisurely along Good remarked upon the extraordinary
deep blue colour of the water, and said that he understood from
the natives, who were great fishermen -- fish, indeed, being
their principal food -- that the lake was supposed to be wonderfully
deep, and to have a hole at the bottom through which the water
escaped and put out some great fire that was raging below.

I pointed out to him that what he had heard was probably a legend
arising from a tradition among the people which dated back to
the time when one of the extinct parasitic volcanic cones was
in activity. We saw several round the borders of the lake which
had no doubt been working at a period long subsequent to the
volcanic death of the central crater which now formed the bed
of the lake itself. When it finally became extinct the people
would imagine that the water from the lake had run down and put
out the big fire below, more especially as, though it was constantly
fed by streams running from the snow-tipped peaks about, there
was no visible exit to it.

The farther shore of the lake we found, on approaching it, to
consist of a vast perpendicular wall of rock, which held the
water without any intermediate sloping bank, as elsewhere. Accordingly
we paddled parallel with this precipice, at a distance of about
a hundred paces from it, shaping our course for the end of the
lake, where we knew that there was a large village.

As we went we began to pass a considerable accumulation of floating
rushes, weed, boughs of trees, and other rubbish, brought, Good
supposed, to this spot by some current, which he was much puzzled
to account for. Whilst we were speculating about this, Sir Henry
pointed out a flock of large white swans, which were feeding
on the drift some little way ahead of us. Now I had already
noticed swans flying about this lake, and, having never come
across them before in Africa, was exceedingly anxious to obtain
a specimen. I had questioned the natives about them, and learnt
that they came from over the mountain, always arriving at certain
periods of the year in the early morning, when it was very easy
to catch them, on account of their exhausted condition. I also
asked them what country they came from, when they shrugged their
shoulders, and said that on the top of the great black precipice
was stony inhospitable land, and beyond that were mountains with
snow, and full of wild beasts, where no people lived, and beyond
the mountains were hundreds of miles of dense thorn forest, so
thick that even the elephants could not get through it, much
less men. Next I asked them if they had ever heard of white
people like ourselves living on the farther side of the mountains
and the thorn forest, whereat they laughed. But afterwards a
very old woman came and told me that when she was a little girl
her grandfather had told her that in his youth _his_ grandfather
had crossed the desert and the mountains, and pierced the thorn
forest, and seen a white people who lived in stone kraals beyond.
Of course, as this took the tale back some two hundred and fifty
years, the information was very indefinite; but still there it
was again, and on thinking it over I grew firmly convinced that
there was some truth in all these rumours, and equally firmly
determined to solve the mystery. Little did I guess in what
an almost miraculous way my desire was to be gratified.

Well, we set to work to stalk the swans, which kept drawing,
as they fed, nearer and nearer to the precipice, and at last
we pushed the canoe under shelter of a patch of drift within
forty yards of them. Sir Henry had the shot-gun, loaded with
No. 1, and, waiting for a chance, got two in a line, and, firing
at their necks, killed them both. Up rose the rest, thirty or
more of them, with a mighty splashing; and, as they did so, he
gave them the other barrel. Down came one fellow with a broken
wing, and I saw the leg of another drop and a few feathers start
out of his back; but he went on quite strong. Up went the swans,
circling ever higher till at last they were mere specks level
with the top of the frowning precipice, when I saw them form
into a triangle and head off for the unknown north-east. Meanwhile
we had picked up our two dead ones, and beautiful birds they
were, weighing not less than about thirty pounds each, and were
chasing the winged one, which had scrambled over a mass of driftweed
into a pool of clear water beyond. Finding a difficulty in forcing
the canoe through the rubbish, I told our only remaining Wakwafi
servant, whom I knew to be an excellent swimmer, to jump over,
dive under the drift, and catch him, knowing that as there were
no crocodiles in this lake he could come to no harm. Entering
into the fun of the thing, the man obeyed, and soon was dodging
about after the winged swan in fine style, getting gradually
nearer to the rock wall, against which the water washed as he
did so.

Presently he gave up swimming after the swan, and began to cry
out that he was being carried away; and, indeed, we saw that,
though he was swimming with all his strength towards us, he was
being drawn slowly to the precipice. With a few desperate strokes
of our paddles we pushed the canoe through the crust of drift
and rowed towards the man as hard as we could, but, fast as we
went, he was drawn faster to the rock. Suddenly I saw that before
us, just rising eighteen inches or so above the surface of the
lake, was what looked like the top of the arch of a submerged
cave or railway tunnel. Evidently, from the watermark on the
rock several feet above it, it was generally entirely submerged;
but there had been a dry season, and the cold had prevented the
snow from melting as freely as usual; so the lake was low and
the arch showed. Towards this arch our poor servant was being
sucked with frightful rapidity. He was not more than ten fathoms
from it, and we were about twenty when I saw it, and with little
help from us the canoe flew along after him. He struggled bravely,
and I thought that we should have saved him, when suddenly I
perceived an expression of despair come upon his face, and there
before our eyes he was sucked down into the cruel swirling blue
depths, and vanished. At the same moment I felt our canoe seized
as with a mighty hand, and propelled with resistless force towards
the rock.

We realized our danger now and rowed, or rather paddled, furiously
in our attempt to get out of the vortex. In vain; in another
second we were flying straight for the arch like an arrow, and
I thought that we were lost. Luckily I retained sufficient presence
of mind to shout out, instantly setting the example by throwing
myself into the bottom of the canoe, 'Down on your faces -- down!'
and the others had the sense to take the hint. In another instant
there was a grinding noise, and the boat was pushed down till
the water began to trickle over the sides, and I thought that
we were gone. But no, suddenly the grinding ceased, and we could
again feel the canoe flying along. I turned my head a little
-- I dared not lift it -- and looked up. By the feeble light
that yet reached the canoe, I could make out that a dense arch
of rock hung just over our heads, and that was all. In another
minute I could not even see as much as that, for the faint light
had merged into shadow, and the shadows had been swallowed up
in darkness, utter and complete.

For an hour or so we lay there, not daring to lift our heads
for fear lest the brains should be dashed out of them, and scarcely
able to speak even, on account of the noise of the rushing water
which drowned our voices. Not, indeed, that we had much inclination
to speak, seeing that we were overwhelmed by the awfulness of
our position and the imminent fear of instant death, either by
being dashed against the sides of the cavern, or on a rock, or
being sucked down in the raging waters, or perhaps asphyxiated
by want of air. All of these and many other modes of death presented
themselves to my imagination as I lay at the bottom of the canoe,
listening to the swirl of the hurrying waters which ran whither
we knew not. One only other sound could I hear, and that was
Alphonse's intermittent howl of terror coming from the centre
of the canoe, and even that seemed faint and unnatural. Indeed,
the whole thing overpowered my brain, and I began to believe
that I was the victim of some ghastly spirit-shaking nightmare.




CHAPTER X
THE ROSE OF FIRE



On we flew, drawn by the mighty current, till at last I noticed
that the sound of the water was not half so deafening as it had
been, and concluded that this must be because there was more
room for the echoes to disperse in. I could now hear Alphonse's
howls much more distinctly; they were made up of the oddest mixture
of invocations to the Supreme Power and the name of his beloved
Annette that it is possible to conceive; and, in short, though
their evident earnestness saved them from profanity, were, to
say the least, very remarkable. Taking up a paddle I managed
to drive it into his ribs, whereon he, thinking that the end
had come, howled louder than ever. Then I slowly and cautiously
raised myself on my knees and stretched my hand upwards, but
could touch no roof. Next I took the paddle and lifted it above
my head as high as I could, but with the same result. I also
thrust it out laterally to the right and left, but could touch
nothing except water. Then I bethought me that there was in
the boat, amongst our other remaining possessions, a bull's-eye
lantern and a tin of oil. I groped about and found it, and having
a match on me carefully lit it, and as soon as the flame had
got a hold of the wick I turned it on down the boat. As it happened,
the first thing the light lit on was the white and scared face
of Alphonse, who, thinking that it was all over at last, and
that he was witnessing a preliminary celestial phenomenon, gave
a terrific yell and was with difficulty reassured with the paddle.
As for the other three, Good was lying on the flat of his back,
his eyeglass still fixed in his eye, and gazing blankly into
the upper darkness. Sir Henry had his head resting on the thwarts
of the canoe, and with his hand was trying to test the speed
of the water. But when the beam of light fell upon old Umslopogaas
I could really have laughed. I think I have said that we had
put a roast quarter of water-buck into the canoe. Well, it so
happened that when we all prostrated ourselves to avoid being
swept out of the boat and into the water by the rock roof, Umslopogaas's
head had come down uncommonly near this roast buck, and so soon
as he had recovered a little from the first shock of our position
it occurred to him that he was hungry. Thereupon he coolly cut
off a chop with Inkosi-kaas, and was now employed in eating it
with every appearance of satisfaction. As he afterwards explained,
he thought that he was going 'on a long journey', and preferred
to start on a full stomach. It reminded me of the people who
are going to be hanged, and who are generally reported in the
English daily papers to have made 'an excellent breakfast'.

As soon as the others saw that I had managed to light the lamp,
we bundled Alphonse into the farther end of the canoe with a
threat which calmed him down wonderfully, that if he would insist
upon making the darkness hideous with his cries we would put
him out of suspense by sending him to join the Wakwafi and wait
for Annette in another sphere, and began to discuss the situation
as well as we could. First, however, at Good's suggestion, we
bound two paddles mast-fashion in the bows so that they might
give us warning against any sudden lowering of the roof of the
cave or waterway. It was clear to us that we were in an underground
river or, as Alphonse defined it, 'main drain', which carried
off the superfluous waters of the lake. Such rivers are well
known to exist in many parts of the world, but it has not often
been the evil fortune of explorers to travel by them. That the
river was wide we could clearly see, for the light from the bull's-eye
lantern failed to reach from shore to shore, although occasionally,
when the current swept us either to one side or the other, we
could distinguish the rock wall of the tunnel, which, as far
as we could make out, appeared to arch about twenty-five feet
above our heads. As for the current itself, it ran, Good estimated,
at least eight knots, and, fortunately for us, was, as is usual,
fiercest in the middle of the stream. Still, our first act was
to arrange that one of us, with the lantern and a pole there
was in the canoe, should always be in the bows ready, if possible,
to prevent us from being stove in against the side of the cave
or any projecting rock. Umslopogaas, having already dined, took
the first turn. This was absolutely, with one exception, all
that we could do towards preserving our safety. The exception
was that another of us took up a position in the stern with a
paddle by means of which it was possible to steer the canoe more
or less and to keep her from the sides of the cave. These matters
attended to, we made a somewhat sparing meal off the cold buck's
meat (for we did not know how long it might have to last us),
and then feeling in rather better spirits I gave my opinion that,
serious as it undoubtedly was, I did not consider our position
altogether without hope, unless, indeed, the natives were right,
and the river plunged straight down into the bowels of the earth.
If not, it was clear that it must emerge somewhere, probably
on the other side of the mountains, and in that case all we had
to think of was to keep ourselves alive till we got there, wherever
'there' might be. But, of course, as Good lugubriously pointed
out, on the other hand we might fall victims to a hundred unsuspected
horrors -- or the river might go on winding away inside the earth
till it dried up, in which case our fate would indeed be an
awful one.

'Well, let us hope for the best and prepare ourselves for the
worst,' said Sir Henry, who is always cheerful and even spirited
-- a very tower of strength in the time of trouble. 'We have
come out of so many queer scrapes together, that somehow I almost
fancy we shall come out of this,' he added.

This was excellent advice, and we proceeded to take it each in
our separate way -- that is, except Alphonse, who had by now
sunk into a sort of terrified stupor. Good was at the helm and
Umslopogaas in the bows, so there was nothing left for Sir Henry
and myself to do except to lie down in the canoe and think.
It certainly was a curious, and indeed almost a weird, position
to be placed in -- rushing along, as we were, through the bowels
of the earth, borne on the bosom of a Stygian river, something
after the fashion of souls being ferried by Charon, as Curtis
said. And how dark it was! The feeble ray from our little lamp
did but serve to show the darkness. There in the bows sat old
Umslopogaas, like Pleasure in the poem, {Endnote 9} watchful
and untiring, the pole ready to his hand, and behind in the shadow
I could just make out the form of Good peering forward at the
ray of light in order to make out how to steer with the paddle
that he held and now and again dipped into the water.

'Well, well,' thought I, 'you have come in search of adventures,
Allan my boy, and you have certainly got them. At your time
of life, too! You ought to be ashamed of yourself; but somehow
you are not, and, awful as it all is, perhaps you will pull through
after all; and if you don't, why, you cannot help it, you see!
And when all's said and done an underground river will make
a very appropriate burying-place.'

At first, however, I am bound to say that the strain upon the
nerves was very great. It is trying to the coolest and most
experienced person not to know from one hour to another if he
has five minutes more to live, but there is nothing in this world
that one cannot get accustomed to, and in time we began to get
accustomed even to that. And, after all, our anxiety, though
no doubt natural, was, strictly speaking, illogical, seeing that
we never know what is going to happen to us the next minute,
even when we sit in a well-drained house with two policemen patrolling
under the window -- nor how long we have to live. It is all arranged
for us, my sons, so what is the use of bothering?

It was nearly midday when we made our dive into darkness, and
we had set our watch (Good and Umslopogaas) at two, having agreed
that it should be of a duration of five hours. At seven o'clock,
accordingly, Sir Henry and I went on, Sir Henry at the bow and
I at the stern, and the other two lay down and went to sleep.
For three hours all went well, Sir Henry only finding it necessary
once to push us off from the side; and I that but little steering
was required to keep us straight, as the violent current did
all that was needed, though occasionally the canoe showed a tendency
which had to be guarded against to veer and travel broadside
on. What struck me as the most curious thing about this wonderful
river was: how did the air keep fresh? It was muggy and thick,
no doubt, but still not sufficiently so to render it bad or even
remarkably unpleasant. The only explanation that I can suggest
is that the water of the lake had sufficient air in it to keep
the atmosphere of the tunnel from absolute stagnation, this air
being given out as it proceeded on its headlong way. Of course
I only give the solution of the mystery for what it is worth,
which perhaps is not much.

When I had been for three hours or so at the helm, I began to
notice a decided change in the temperature, which was getting
warmer. At first I took no notice of it, but when, at the expiration
of another half-hour, I found that it was getting hotter and
hotter, I called to Sir Henry and asked him if he noticed it,
or if it was only my imagination. 'Noticed it!' he answered;
'I should think so. I am in a sort of Turkish bath.' Just about
then the others woke up gasping, and were obliged to begin to
discard their clothes. Here Umslopogaas had the advantage, for
he did not wear any to speak of, except a moocha.

Hotter it grew, and hotter yet, till at last we could scarcely
breathe, and the perspiration poured out of us. Half an hour
more, and though we were all now stark naked, we could hardly
bear it. The place was like an antechamber of the infernal regions
proper. I dipped my hand into the water and drew it out almost
with a cry; it was nearly boiling. We consulted a little thermometer
we had -- the mercury stood at 123 degrees. From the surface
of the water rose a dense cloud of steam. Alphonse groaned out
that we were already in purgatory, which indeed we were, though
not in the sense that he meant it. Sir Henry suggested that
we must be passing near the seat of some underground volcanic
fire, and I am inclined to think, especially in the light of
what subsequently occurred, that he was right. Our sufferings
for some time after this really pass my powers of description.
We no longer perspired, for all the perspiration had been sweated
out of us. We simply lay in the bottom of the boat, which we
were now physically incapable of directing, feeling like hot
embers, and I fancy undergoing very much the same sensations
that the poor fish do when they are dying on land -- namely,
that of slow suffocation. Our skins began to crack, and the
blood to throb in our heads like the beating of a steam-engine.

This had been going on for some time, when suddenly the river
turned a little, and I heard Sir Henry call out from the bows
in a hoarse, startled voice, and, looking up, saw a most wonderful
and awful thing. About half a mile ahead of us, and a little
to the left of the centre of the stream -- which we could now
see was about ninety feet broad -- a huge pillar-like jet of
almost white flame rose from the surface of the water and sprang
fifty feet into the air, when it struck the roof and spread out
some forty feet in diameter, falling back in curved sheets of
fire shaped like the petals of a full-blown rose. Indeed this
awful gas jet resembled nothing so much as a great flaming flower
rising out of the black water. Below was the straight stalk,
a foot or more thick, and above the dreadful bloom. And as for
the fearfulness of it and its fierce and awesome beauty, who
can describe it? Certainly I cannot. Although we were now some
five hundred yards away, it, notwithstanding the steam, lit up
the whole cavern as clear as day, and we could see that the roof
was here about forty feet above us, and washed perfectly smooth
with water. The rock was black, and here and there I could make
out long shining lines of ore running through it like great veins,
but of what metal they were I know not.

On we rushed towards this pillar of fire, which gleamed fiercer
than any furnace ever lit by man.

'Keep the boat to the right, Quatermain -- to the right,' shouted
Sir Henry, and a minute afterwards I saw him fall forward senseless.
Alphonse had already gone. Good was the next to go. There
they lay as though dead; only Umslopogaas and I kept our senses.
We were within fifty yards of it now, and I saw the Zulu's head
fall forward on his hands. He had gone too, and I was alone.
I could not breathe; the fierce heat dried me up. For yards
and yards round the great rose of fire the rock-roof was red-hot.
The wood of the boat was almost burning. I saw the feathers
on one of the dead swans begin to twist and shrivel up; but I
would not give in. I knew that if I did we should pass within
three or four yards of the gas jet and perish miserably. I set
the paddle so as to turn the canoe as far from it as possible,
and held on grimly.

My eyes seemed to be bursting from my head, and through my closed
lids I could see the fierce light. We were nearly opposite now;
it roared like all the fires of hell, and the water boiled furiously
around it. Five seconds more. We were past; I heard the roar
behind me.