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First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 36. In Sanctuary |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. IN SANCTUARY "You here?" cried Nic excitedly. "I have been following you for the last hour," was the quiet reply. "And I've been tramping along here for nothing. Why didn't you speak?" "Because I wanted you to tramp along there for nothing," replied the convict. "You were not looking for me--I could see that. You were trying to find a way down there below." "Well, yes, I was," said Nic, who felt startled by his companion's keenness; "but I _wanted_ to see you too." "Well, have you found anything?" "You know I've not," cried Nic. "I say, you might trust me. How do you get there?" "Why should I show you the way to the only place of safety I have got?" "Because you like me," said Nic, with a smile, as he held out his hand, which the other grasped and held. "Yes," he said; "you made me like you, Nic, and brought me back a little to a better belief in human kind just when I was growing day by day more and more into a brute--a savage. Well, I will show you; but you are tired now." "Not too tired for that," said Nic eagerly, for there was a suggestion of adventure which attracted him. "I'm ready. Are you going to bind my eyes again? You can if you like, and then you can lead me down and I shall not know the way." "Why should I do that when I said that I would trust you? Besides," said the convict rather grimly, "you will want your eyes." "Is it dangerous?" cried Nic. "In places; but you will not shrink." "Is it far?" "A mile from here. This way, then. But wait a few minutes." Nic stared, for the convict suddenly darted to one side and disappeared, leaving the boy wondering at his singular behaviour. Then there was utter silence, and it seemed as if he had gone for good. All at once he reappeared from quite a different part, and came quickly up to Nic. "I am obliged to be watchful," he said. "I did not know but that you might have some one following you; but all seems to be clear. Now then, come along." He struck off in among the trees, and Nic followed closely, till, wondering at the course his companion was taking, he said suddenly: "Are you making some short cut? Does the gorge bend round anywhere here?" "Oh no: I am going quite right." "But you are leaving the edge of the precipice right behind." "Yes; that is right. No one would look for the way down where I am leading." Nic gazed at him wonderingly, for the man's manner seemed moment by moment to grow more strange; but they trudged on for quite a quarter of an hour, through a wonderful chaos of rocks and stunted trees, which formed a dense thicket through which it was hard to pass, and which was at last barred by the rocks closing in. Here the convict turned sharply to his left, went in, and out for a couple of score yards, and then came to a halt at a rock face, from beneath which a little stream of water gurgled down a long gully for a short distance, and then disappeared. "Is the water good?" said Nic eagerly. "Delicious. Drink." "Then you have been coming to find that?" cried Nic, after taking a long, deep draught. "It is good. But I thought you were going to show me the way down into the gorge." "Yes: there it is." "What? Why, where?" cried Nic, staring. "Down there, where the water goes. Follow that, and you will reach the great valley." "But," cried Nic, gazing in wonder at what seemed to be a mere split in the rock, down which the light penetrated but a short distance, "that goes underground." "Yes, nearly all the way." "A cavern." "A series of caverns. You do not care to go now?" "Well, it looks--It is so--One can't hardly--Yes, one can," cried the boy, ceasing his stammering and drawing himself up. "I am quite ready. Will you go first?" The convict smiled, bent down a little, and passed out of the boy's sight. "You can jump down boldly here," came in deep, echoing tones: "there is good foothold. A little slippery, but I'll catch you if your foot glides away." It requires a little effort of mind to leap down off _terra_ _firma_ into a black-looking hole whose bottom is invisible, and Nic hesitated for a moment or two. Then: "Trust for trust," he said to himself, and leaped, to feel for a brief instant or two that strange sensation experienced when rushing downward in a swing. Then _splash_! and his feet sent the water flying as he landed upon soft sand, while a hand grasped his shoulder, and he could dimly see the convict's swarthy face. "All right?" "Yes. Did I hit you with the gun?" "Pretty hard, boy; but, never mind--it didn't go off." Nic looked round, and by the light which gleamed from above through a lovely lacework of overhanging ferns he could see rugged rocks, which looked of a glistening: metallic green, but in places of a soft rippled cream, as if the rich produce of hundreds of cows had trickled down the walls and turned to stone. Water was flowing about his feet, but only an inch or two deep, and beyond where the convict stood there was black darkness. "I say, is this really the way down to the bottom of that great gorge, Leather--I mean Frank Mayne?" said Nic breathlessly, for his heart, in spite of his having gone through no exertion, still laboured heavily. "Yes, and a gloriously easy way, as you will soon see." "See?" cried Nic. "Yes; come along." "One moment," said Nic, pausing to look upward at the arching ferns eight or ten feet overhead. "No one would think of coming down there to look for a way. But how about footmarks in this soft sand? One of the blacks would trace us directly." "The water trickles over them and washes them full of sand directly, Nic. I am safe in that." "But did you venture into this black darkness without knowing where you were going? One might slip down into some horrible pit." "I slipped down into a horrible pit years ago, boy," said the convict bitterly, "and I felt that I could only lose my life in an adventurous search. But I did not go far in the dark. Come on a few yards, and I will show you. There is nothing to mind." "Does the water get deeper?" whispered Nic, in an awe-stricken voice. "Never more than an inch or two, except in rainy time, and then of course it becomes a rushing torrent and impassable. Come along: it is always a soft sandy or rippled path formed of petrifactions like that you saw just now." Nic braced up his nerves and followed the _wash_, _wash_ of the convict's footsteps till his companion cried, "Halt!" "Now," he said--"hold this." "This" proved to be a great piece of soft, crumbling touchwood, which felt as if it had been torn from some dry, rotting gum tree; and directly after _nick_--_nick_--_nick_ came the sound of a flint against a steel: tiny bright scintillations glistened in the black darkness, and soon there was a faint glow as the convict began to blow one spark which had fallen upon the wood Nic held. Then the spark grew brighter and brighter, and at last shed a faint luminous glow sufficient to make darkness visible; and this was increased by the convict taking the piece of wood and waving it softly to and fro. "A poor light," he said, "but it takes off the worst part of the gloom, and it is comforting. I have not begun making myself candles yet, Nic." "What's that?" whispered the boy, as there was a peculiar fluttering noise and something swept his cheek softly. "Only bats. There are plenty here. Don't you smell them?" "Yes, there is a black-beetly smell; but I thought it was the wood. Are there any--any dangerous beasts down here?" "There are no dangerous beasts in this country," said the convict, "except poisonous snakes and the crocodiles in the rivers, and I have never seen one of them. No, Nic, there is nothing to fear here but flood after a storm. Now, come along; step out boldly. It is nervous work the first time. I felt a bit scared when I explored it. I could walk through now in the darkness with my hands in my pockets. One only has to let one's feet follow the water." "But if you did not follow the water?" "Then you might wander away into one of the side passages, or go down some wide rift and lose your way." "Is it so big, then?" "Farther on. There it opens out into huge caverns, and rises up into great cracks and chambers caused by the petrifying stony water. There are sheets and columns and hummocks of stone all made by the drip from above. This place has all been formed by the water eating away the limestone rock, dissolving it here and piling it up there." As the convict walked on, and Nic followed close behind, the splashing of their feet echoed softly from the walls, and the man's voice sounded shut in and smothered. The air felt hot too, and oppressive, while the smouldering wood glowed and made the convict's figure stand out like a solid carved block moving dimly outlined before Nic as he went on. Then, all at once, the echoes of the disturbed water grew louder, and went whispering away; and as Leather went on talking his voice seemed to grow free, and the air was cool and damp. "Now listen," he said; and he paused, waved his smouldering torch, and uttered a loud _cooey_. Nic caught at his arm, for there was a crash, and a bellowing roar as the cry went echoing away and then gradually died out in whispers. "Startling, isn't it? But only sound. The cavern is enormous here." "It's dreadful!" panted Nic. "No: wonderful and grand, boy. Ah! who knows what may be deeper down in the interior of this mighty world on which we crawl! Come along; you'll have other chances of exploring here--that is, if you come to see me, Nic. Would you venture alone?" "No," said Nic frankly. "I don't think I should dare." "Familiarity breeds contempt--even for darkness, Nic," said the convict with a laugh, which sounded horrible. "Don't be in a hurry to say that. I believe that with a lantern you would come. Forward, boy!" "Is it much farther?" "Oh yes--a long, long, long way. I was months before I got right through." "What!" cried Nic in a startled voice; and he wished he had not spoken, for his exclamation sounded as if it would bring down the rocks upon their heads. "No, no; not as you take it," said the convict laughingly, as he waved the torch and made it glow. "I mean that after I discovered it one day, as I told you, through a sheep falling down into that well-like opening, I made myself a rough lamp from an old pannikin, some melted mutton fat, and a bit of rag, and when I had chances I came down and followed the stream a little farther and a little farther, led on and on by the interest of the place, always expecting to find that it would end with an underground lake." "And it did not?" "No, this little stream joins the river in the great valley, as you will see. But we are losing time. Come on." Nic followed in silence, but with the creepy, shivering sensation passing off; and a feeling of intense curiosity and wonder taking its place. "Is it much farther?" he said at last. "Like to go back now, boy?" "No," cried Nic firmly--"of course not." "Well, as to being farther to go, I could turn off in several places, and we could wander on for longer than I could say. You can bring friends and explore it some day, perhaps; but down to the valley is not a great way now." "Down! Are we going down?" "Of course: flowing water is always going downward. There, you can hear that the rocks are farther away to right and left. Farther on they close in again till it is like a crack, and they run up to a point far above our heads. We must have a good light some day, Nic, if I am not taken. You would like to explore the place?" "If you are taken!" cried Nic. "Why, you could defend yourself against a hundred people here, and set them at defiance." "Yes, but I might be surprised. I can't live without sleep, Nic. They'll take me some day. Friend Brookes will find out that you come to see me, and track you to the opening." "He would not dare to come along here." "No, but he would send those who did. But never mind that now. Let's enjoy life while we can, even if it is such a poor life as mine." "I say, Frank Mayne," said Nic, after a thoughtful pause, during which he had listened to the _whish_, _whish_ of their feet through the water, and the whispering echoes, now close at hand, now far away. "Say on, boy." "I'm going to the port as soon as my father comes back." "Going, boy? I'm sorry. But you will come back?" "I hope so; with news. I shall go and see Sir John and Lady O'Hara, tell them your story, and get you pardoned." "No. The governor did what he could: I was allowed to go out as an assigned servant; I have disgraced myself, and I should have to go back to the gang." "Not if he knew that you were innocent." "My character with which I came out spoils that, boy. Don't talk about it. Mine is a hopeless case." "But Lady O'Hara is my friend." "Hush! It is too late." They went on and on through the obscurity in comparative silence now, Nic feeling as if he were being led always by that black shadow of a gigantic man, beyond which there was a faint glow. Always the same tramp, tramp through the splashing water, and along its soft bed, which was never more than four or five feet wide at that time, and the flowing stream kept them easily in the right way. Once or twice Nic felt startled at the want of light from the smouldering torch, but a few waves in the air brightened its faint glow again, and they went on and on as if their journey were to be right through the grim bowels of the world. "Is it much farther?" said Nic at last, to break the painful silence. "Not much." "But we seem to have come miles." "I dare say it is two," said the convict, "but imagination makes it longer. My first journeyings made me think that it must be at least twenty. Come closer here." Nic stepped up and touched the arm which bore the light. "Now look straight on." "I can see nothing." "You are not looking the right way. Try again." "Yes, I see now. What is it? A spark?" "Of daylight. We are nearly through." Nic's heart throbbed. He felt as if a huge load had been taken off his brain; a thrill ran through him, and he stepped on briskly, with the faint light ahead rapidly growing brighter. Five minutes later they could see the golden glow of sunshine, and in another minute they were wading in deeper water at the bottom of a vast rift overhung by the ferns which grew on the ledges higher and higher. The next minute they stepped out into broad daylight on the sides of the deep cleft, and in a short time, after some sharp climbing, they were at the bottom of the mighty gorge, with Nic shading his aching eyes. "My little kingdom, Nic," said the convict. "Welcome to my savage home!" _ |
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