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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 36. How Mark And Billy Widgeon Went Wrong |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. HOW MARK AND BILLY WIDGEON WENT WRONG Mark did as the others did; inflated his lungs and rushed into the darkness, till they nearly fell over the captain; and then how it was done the lad hardly knew, but the two insensible men were dragged out to where there was pure air to breathe, and the rescuers sank down beside them, panting and exhausted. "Too late!" groaned Mark. "Not we, my lad," growled Small. "I know. It's bad gas." "It's the sulphur," cried Mark piteously. "Well, aren't that bad gas? I know. They're just the same as if they was drowned, and we've got to pump their chesties full of wind till they begins to breathe as they ought to." Small's ideas were doubtless quite correct, and fortunately but little effort was needed to bring the sufferers to their senses, for the fresh air soon recovered them, and they sat up looking wild and confused. With the help of an arm to each they were soon able to walk back to the open mountain side, and after a rest declared themselves ready to proceed. "I think we'll go back away north of the hot springs," the captain said. "Certainly," exclaimed the major with quite a sound of contrition in his voice. "The jungle is dense, but I think with a little managing we can find our way." "Well, yes, perhaps so," said the major. "It's down hill, and half our way will be fairly open." "If it proves too dense we can but turn to the right and go back as we came," said the captain. "There, Mark, you need not look so anxious. There is nothing worse the matter than a bad headache. How are you, major?" "Horrible!" he said. "I have a bad headache, and a bad mental pain, for being so absurdly obstinate and running all that risk for the sake of a few crystals of sulphur." "Which, after all, you had to leave behind." "Not all," said the major; "I had put a couple of lumps in my pocket when that overpowering vapour struck me down. My impression is--yes, of course, I remember clearly now--that where I broke the crystals away I must have opened a hole for the escape of the vapour." "I heard the hissing noise," said Mark eagerly. "Strong," said the major, "I know you will forgive me; but, believe me, it will be a long time before I forgive myself. I can't say much to you about thanks," he whispered in a hoarse voice; "but I shall never forget this." "Nonsense, man, nonsense!" cried the captain warmly. "You would have done the same for me." No more was said, for there was plenty to do to keep together, and the various sights and sounds as they bore away to the east of the hot springs set the whole party well upon the _qui vive_. For on every side there were traces of volcanic action. Now they had to climb over or round some mass of lava that looked comparatively new as seen beside fragments that were moss-grown and fringed with orchids and ferns. In one place on the steep descent all would be one tangled growth of creepers, while a little farther on the ground would be sharply inclined and as bare and burned as if fire had lately issued from the earth. Every now and then they came, too, upon soft patches of mud firm enough to walk over and like india-rubber beneath their feet; but it was nervous work, and they crossed with care, feeling, as they did, a curious vibration going on beneath their feet. Then came an exceedingly rugged descent of quite a precipitous nature, but lovely in the extreme, so clothed was it with tropic verdure, though this was more beautiful to the eye than to the feet, for it often concealed treacherous crevices between blocks of scoria, and ugly cracks and rifts, some of which were dangerous, while others were awful from their depth and the low, hissing, murmuring sounds which came from their inmost recesses. At last the descent became so precipitous that they were brought to a stand-still and all progress seemed to be at an end, till, searching about, Mark and Billy Widgeon came upon a broad gash in the mountain side at the bottom of which there seemed to be a long slope of the smooth, hard-surfaced mud apparently running downward toward the spot they sought. The captain declared the descent practicable with care, and Mark took the lead, going down with plenty of agility, and closely followed by the little sailor. At the end of a quarter of an hour they were all on the stony brink of what seemed to be a mud-stream which at some time had flowed down from out of a huge yawning chasm high up above their heads, and perfectly inaccessible from where they stood. According to all appearances, this mud in a thin state must have come down in a perfect cataract till it filled up the space beneath the chasm, which resembled a huge basin, as level as so much water, and when this had become full the stream had begun to form, and down this mud-stream they proposed to go, though how far it extended and would help them on their way experience alone could show. They stood just at the edge of the pool to find that a walk upon its surface would be dangerous in the extreme, for though the top was elastic a stick was easily driven through, with the result that a jet of steam rushed out with a noise like that of a railway whistle, but the surface of the stream on being tested proved firmer, and they began to descend. Again the same sense of insecurity was felt, the india-rubber-like film giving way easily and springing up again, while the old muttering and murmuring noises thrilled beneath their feet. But so long as it would hold it proved to be a capital road, for while there was a wall of dense verdure on either side, not so much as a scrap of moss had taken root on the surface of the smooth slope, which wound in and out with the ravine, acting in fact as a stream of water does which runs down some mountain scar, save that here there was no progress. The mud had once been hot and fluid, and doubtless was still so, to some extent, below; but, after filling up every inequality, it kept to one regular level, forming what Mark at once dubbed Gutta-percha Lane. It was now long past mid-day, and as they walked steadily on, growing more confident as the toughness of the bituminous mud, for such it proved to be, proved itself worthy of the trust it was called upon to bear, the question arose where the stream would end. As far as the captain could make out, in spite of its zigzagging and abrupt curves, the course of the stream was decidedly towards the camp, but as they descended lower one thing was very plain, and that was that they were getting into thicker jungle, which grew taller and darker with every hundred feet of descent. "How do you account for it?" Captain Strong said at last to the major, as they now found themselves walking down a winding road some fifteen to twenty feet wide, and with dense walls of verdure rising fully two hundred feet in height. "I think there must have been a stream here, and at some time there has been an eruption and the mud has flowed down it and filled it up." "If there had been a stream," the captain said, "we should have seen some sign of its outlet near the camp." "Then you have a theory of your own?" "Yes," said the captain; "it seems to me that first of all this was merely a jagged ravine, running from the mountain's shoulder right down to the sea." "That's what I thought. With a stream at the bottom." "No stream," said the captain. "Nothing but vegetation. Down this a stream of red-hot lava must have flowed and burned the vegetation clean away, leaving a place for the mud to come down and harden as you have it now. It may have been a year after the eruption--twenty, fifty, or a hundred years, but there it is." "If you are right, we should see traces of the burning on the trees," said the major. "That does not follow. These trees may have sprung up since, right to the very edge of the stream, but no farther." "Then under this mud or bitumen there ought to be lava according to your ideas. How shall we prove it?" "If I am right," said the captain, "we shall find that this stream ends all at once, just as the lava hardened when the flow ceased, for there was no stream of volcanic matter right down to the shore." "And there is no stream of mud any further," said Mark laughing; "for there's the end." Mark was quite right, for about a couple of hundred yards below them the mighty walls of verdure suddenly came together and blocked out further progress, while, when they reached the spot, it was to find that the bituminous mud spread out here into a pool, further progress being, as it were, stopped by a dam of blackish rock which resembled so much solidified sponge, so full was it of air-holes and bubble-like cells. "I am no geologist," said the major, "so I give in to you, Strong. You must be right." "I think I am," said the captain, quietly examining the rocky dam and the surface of the mud. "Yes, I should say that here is the explanation of this curious stream." "Then all I can say is," said the major wiping his forehead, "that I wish the eruption had been a little bigger, and the lava stream had ended on the sands exactly one hundred yards from camp." "And the mud had flowed over it and made our road?" said Mark laughing. "That goes without saying," cried the major. "Now, then, I propose a halt and food." There was plenty of shade close at hand, but unfortunately no water. Still, a good rest and a hearty meal proved most grateful, and as soon as it was done the major lit a cigar, the captain, Small, and two of the men seemed to be dozing, and Mark and Billy Widgeon looked at them and then at each other. "Going to do a bit o' hammock work, Mr Mark, sir?" said Billy. "I'm not sleepy." "More am I, sir. Let's see if we can't get some fruit." "All right!" cried Mark, jumping up. "Don't go far, my boy," said the captain; and Mark started, for he had thought his father was asleep, while on looking at him he still lay back in the same position with his eyes closed. "No, father, I won't go far," he said. "Keep within range of a shout--well within range, for it's very easy to get lost in one of these jungles, and we shall be too tired to hunt for you now." "I won't go far," said Mark; and he and Billy Widgeon began to walk slowly back along the stream, looking to left and right for a way between the trees into the jungle. "You thought the skipper was asleep?" said Billy in a whisper. "Never ketches him asleep, as we all knows. It's always t'other. So soon as one o' us as ought to be awake goes off, he finds us out, and no mistake." Mark did not answer, and Billy went on: "It's my belief that when the skipper shuts his eyes he sets his ears to work to see and hear too. Ah, here we are! Here's a place where we can go in. I say, Mr Mark, did you eat any o' that cold treacle pooden?" "No? Bill, I did not." "Good job, too, sir. It was cooked in one o' they hot springs, and I'm blest if it didn't taste like brimstone and treacle. Lor', how thirsty I am! Wish I could find one o' them wooden-box fruit." "What? cocoa-nuts?" "No, sir: durings. They are good after all. Give's your hand, my lad." He bent down from a mass of basalt, which seemed to be the end of a rugged wall which penetrated the trees, and along which it was possible to climb more easily than to force a way through the dense growth which wove the trees together. "I can manage, Billy," said Mark. "Go on." Billy turned, and, apparently as active as if he had just started, he climbed on, parting the bushes that grew out of the interstices and holding them aside for Mark to clear them, and then on and on, without the sign of a fruit-tree or berry-bearing bush. The sun beat down through the overshadowing boughs, but the two had risen so high that the forest monarchs had become as it were dwarfed, and it was evident that they would soon be above them and able to look down on their tops. "Why, Billy," exclaimed Mark, "if we go on, we shall soon be able to see the sea, and the best way down to the camp." "Sure we shall, Mr Mark, sir," said the little sailor, descending a sudden slope and helping Mark to follow, after which they wound in and out for about a quarter of an hour, thoroughly eager in their quest for a way to simplify the descent of the rest of the party. All at once the captain's final words came to memory, and Mark exclaimed: "Here; we mustn't go any farther, Billy. We'll turn back now." "All right! Mr Mark, sir, we'll soon do that; and then we can all come on this way together. We can show 'em now, eh?" "Yes," said Mark; "but let's see, which way did we come? Along there, wasn't it?" "'Long there, Mr Mark, sir? No, not it. Why, we come this way, down by these rocks." "No, that couldn't be right, Billy, because the sun was on our left when we turned round, and you helped me down that rock." "Was it, sir? Then it must be down here." Billy led the way and Mark followed; but at the end of a few minutes he called a halt. "No, no; this can't be right," he cried, as he gazed about a wilderness of huge rocks and trees, where bushes sprang up on every hand. "Well, do you know, Mr Mark, sir, that's just what I was a-thinking," said Billy. "I've been a-puzzling my head over that there block o' stone as is standing atop o' that tother one, and couldn't recollect seeing of 'em afore." "No; it must be this way," said Mark uneasily. "How stupid, to be sure! We must find our way back." "Why, of course, Mr Mark, sir; and we will; but it aren't us as is stupid, it's these here rocks and trees as is all alike, just as if they was brothers and sisters, or peas in a pod." "Don't talk so," said Mark angrily, as he realised more fully their position; and a sense of confusion made him petulant. "Let's act and find our way. Now, then, which way does the mud-stream lie?" Billy scratched his head, stared about, and then said softly: "Well, sir, I'll be blest if I know." And Mark thoroughly realised the fact that they were lost. _ |
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