Baron Trump's Marvellous Underground Journey
darkness, for the lizards of which I have already spoken, aroused by the
sound of my footfalls, snapped their tails and lighted up their tiny
flash torches in eager attempts to discover whence the noise proceeded,
and what sort of a being it was that had invaded their silent domains.
We had covered possibly two leagues when suddenly a low and mysterious
voice, as soft and gentle as if it had dropped from the clear, starry
heavens of my own beautiful world, reached my ear.
“Sebastian! Sebastian!” it murmured. Before I could stop to think, I
uttered a cry of wonder, and the noise of my voice seemed to awaken ten
thousand of the tiny living flash lights inhabiting the cracks and
crevices of the vast arched corridor, flooding it for a moment or so
with a soft and roseate radiance.
“Sebastian! Sebastian!” again murmured the mellow and echo-like voice,
coming from the very walls of rock beside me.
Hastily drawing near to the spot whence the words seemed to come, I laid
my ear against the smooth face of the rock. Again the same soft-sighing
voice pronounced my name so clearly and so close beside me that I
reached out to grasp Crystallina’s hand, for hers was the voice,—the
same low, sweet voice that had told me of her sorrow in the Spectral
Garden; but there was no one there. In reaching out, however, I had
passed my left hand along the face of the wall, and it had marked the
presence of a round smooth opening in its rocky face, an opening about
the size of a rain-water pipe in the upper world.
Instantly it flashed upon my mind that through some whim of nature this
opening extended for leagues back towards the city of the Mikkamenkies
through the miles of solid rock, and opened in the very Throne Room of
the Princess Crystallina.
Yes, I was right, for after a moment or so again the same low, sweet
voice came through the speaking-tube of nature’s own making and fell
upon my eager ear.
I waited until it had ceased, and setting my mouth in front of the
opening I murmured in strong but gentle tones,—
“Farewell, dear Princess Crystallina. Bulger and the little baron both
bid thee a long farewell!” and then raising Bulger in my arms, I bade
him weep for his royal friend whom he would never see again.
He gave a long, low, piteous cry, half-whine, half-howl, and then I
listened for Crystallina’s voice. It was not long in coming.
“Farewell, dear Bulger; farewell, dear Sebastian! Crystallina will never
forget you until her poor heart with the speck in it runs down and the
Crystal Throne knows her no more.” Poor Bulger! It now became my turn to
tear him from this spot, for Crystallina’s voice, sounding thus
unexpectedly in his ears, had aroused all the deep affection which he
had so ruthlessly smothered in order to bring his little master to his
senses and free him from the charm of Crystallina’s grace and beauty.
But in vain. All my strength, all my entreaties, were powerless to move
him from the place.
Evidently Crystallina had heard me pleading with Bulger and had imagined
that now I would waver and stand irresolute.
“Heed dear Bulger’s prayer, O beloved,” she pleaded, “and turn back,
turn back to thy disconsolate Crystallina, whom thou madest so happy for
a brief moment! Turn back! Oh, turn back!” Bulger now began to whine and
cry most piteously. I felt that something must be done at once, or the
most direful consequences might ensue—that Bulger, crazed by the sweet
tones of Crystallina’s voice, might break away from me and dart away in
mad race back to the city of the Mikkamenkies, back to the fair young
queen of the Crystal Throne.
It became necessary for me to resort to trick and artifice to save my
dear little brother from his own loving heart. Drawing his head up
against my body and covering his eyes with my left arm, I quickly
unloosened my neckerchief, and thrusting it into this wonderful
speaking-tube closed it effectively.
And thus I saved my faithful Bulger from himself, thus I closed his ears
to the music of Crystallina’s voice; but it was not until after a good
hour’s waiting that he could bring himself to believe that his beloved
friend would speak no more.
After several hours more of journeying along the Marble Highway a speck
of light caught my eye, far on ahead, and I redoubled my pace to reach
it quickly. I was soon rewarded for my trouble by entering a wonderful
chamber, circular in form, with a domed roof. In the centre of this fair
temple of the underground world sprang a glorious fountain with a mighty
rush of waters which brought with them such a phosphorescence that this
vast round chamber was lighted up with a pale yellow light in which the
countless crystals of the roof and sides sparkled magnificently.
Here we passed the night, or what I called the night, refreshing
ourselves with food which I had brought from the Kingdom of the
Mikkamenkies, and drinking and bathing in the wonderful fountain which
leaped into the air with a rush and a whir, and filled it with a strange
and fitful radiance. Upon awaking both Bulger and I felt greatly
refreshed both in body and mind, and we made haste to seek out the lofty
portal opening upon the Marble Highway, and were soon trudging along it
again. Hour after hour we kept on our feet, for something told me that
we could not be far away from the confines of some other domain of this
World within a World; and this inward prompting of mine proved to be
correct, for Bulger suddenly gave a joyful bark and began to caper about
as much as to say,—
“O little master, if thou only hadst my keen scent, thou wouldst know
that we are drawing near to human habitations of some kind!”
Sure enough, in a few moments a faint light came creeping in beneath the
mighty arches of the broad corridor, and every instant it gathered in
strength until now I could see clearly about me, and then all of a
sudden I caught sight of the source of this shy and unsteady light.
There in front of me towered two gigantic candelabra of carved and
chased and polished silver, both crowned with a hundred lights, one on
each side of the Marble Highway—not the dull, soft flames of oil or wax,
but the white tongues of fire produced by ignited gas escaping from the
chemist’s retort.
It was marvellous, it was magnificent, and I stood looking up at these
great clusters of tongues of flames, spellbound by the glorious
illumination thus set in silent majesty at this gateway to some city of
the under World.
Bulger’s warning growl brought me to myself, but I must end this chapter
here, dear friends, and halt to collect my thoughts before I proceed to
tell you what I saw after passing this glorious gateway illumined by
these two gigantic candelabra of solid silver.
CHAPTER XV
THE GUARDS AT THE SILVER GATEWAY.—WHAT THEY WERE LIKE.—OUR RECEPTION
BY THEM.—I MAKE A WONDERFUL DISCOVERY.—THE WORLD’S FIRST
TELEPHONE.—BULGER AND I SUCCEED IN MAKING FRIENDS WITH THESE
STRANGERS.—A BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF THE SOODOPSIES, THAT IS, MAKE
BELIEVE EYES, OR THE FORMIFOLK, THAT IS, ANT PEOPLE.—HOW A BLIND
MAN MAY READ YOUR WRITING.
O great Don Fum, Master of all Masters, what do I not owe thee for
having made known unto me the existence of this wonderful World within a
World! Would that I had been a worker in metal! I would not have passed
the glorious portal at which I had halted without having set in deep
intaglio upon its silver columns the full name of the most glorious
scholar whom the world has ever known. Bulger had warned me that this
gateway was guarded, and therefore I entered it cautiously, taking care
to peer into the dark corners lest I might be a target for some
invisible enemy to hurl a weapon at.
No sooner had I passed the gateway than three curious little beings of
about my own height threw themselves swiftly and silently across the
pathway. They wore short jackets, knee-breeches, and leggings reaching
to their ankles, but no hats or shoes, and their clothes were profusely
decorated with beautiful silver buttons.
Their hands and feet and heads seemed much too large for their little
bodies and pipe-stemmy legs, and gave them an uncanny and brownie look,
which was greatly increased by the staring and glassy expression of
their large, round eyes. When I first caught sight of them they had hold
of hands, but now they stood each with his pair stretched out toward
Bulger and me, waving them strangely in the air and agitating their long
fingers as if they were endeavoring to set a spell upon us.
I imagined that I could feel a sensation of drowsiness creeping over me
and made haste to call out:—
“Nay, good people, do not strive to set a spell upon me. I am the
illustrious explorer from the upper world,—Sebastian von Troomp,—and
come to you with most peaceful intent.”
But they paid no heed to my words, merely advancing a few inches and
with outstretched hands continued to beat and claw the air, pausing only
to signal to each other by touching each other’s hands or different
parts of each other’s bodies. I was deeply perplexed by their actions,
and took a step or two forward when instantly they fell back the same
distance.
“All men are brothers,” I exclaimed in a loud tone, “and carry the same
shaped hearts in their breasts. Why do you fear me? You are thrice my
number and in your own home. I pray you stand fast and speak to me!”
As I was pronouncing these words, they kept jerking their heads back as
if the sound of my voice were smiting them in the face. It was very
strange. Suddenly one of them drew from his pocket a ball of silken
cord, and, deftly unrolling it, tossed one end toward me. It flew
directly towards me, for its end was weighed with a thin disk of
polished silver, as was the end retained in the hand of the thrower. His
next move was to open his jacket and apparently press his disk against
his bare body right over his heart. I made haste to do the same with
mine, holding it firmly in place. This done, he retreated a step or two
until the silken cord had been drawn quite taut. Then he paused and
stood for several instants without moving a muscle, after which he
passed the disk to one of his companions, who, having pressed it against
his heart in turn, passed it to the third of the group.
With the quickness of thought the truth now burst upon me: The three
brownie-like creatures in front of me were not only blind, but they were
deaf and dumb. The one sense upon which they relied, and which in them
was of most marvellous keenness, was the sense of feeling. The strange
motions of their hands and fingers, so much like the beating and waving
of an insect’s feelers, were simply to intercept and measure the
vibrations of the air set in motion by the movements of my body. Their
large round eyes, too, had but the sense of feeling, but so wondrously
acute was it that it was almost like the power of sight, enabling them
by the vibration of the air upon the balls to tell exactly how near a
moving object is to them. Their purpose in throwing the silken cord and
silver disk to me was by measuring the beating of my heart and comparing
it with their own to determine whether I was human like them.
Judge of my astonishment, dear friends, upon seeing one of their number
point to the silver disk and, by means of sign-language, give me to
understand that they wanted to feel the heart of the living creature in
my company.
Stooping down, I hastened to gratify their curiosity by applying it over
my dear Bulger’s heart.
At once there was an expression of most comical amazement depicted on
their faces as they passed the disk from one to the other and pressed it
against different parts of their bodies—now against their breasts, now