Out of Time's Abyss
between the water and the arch he could not tell, nor how deep the
former. There was only one way in which he might learn these things,
and that was to lower himself into the stream. For only an instant he
hesitated weighing his chances. Behind him lay almost certainly the
horrid fate of An-Tak; before him nothing worse than a comparatively
painless death by drowning. Holding his haversack above his head with
one hand he lowered his feet slowly over the edge of the narrow
platform. Almost immediately he felt the swirling of cold water about
his ankles, and then with a silent prayer he let himself drop gently
into the stream.
Great was Bradley's relief when he found the water no more than waist
deep and beneath his feet a firm, gravel bottom. Feeling his way
cautiously he moved downward with the current, which was not so strong
as he had imagined from the noise of the running water.
Beneath the first arch he made his way, following the winding
curvatures of the right-hand wall. After a few yards of progress his
hand came suddenly in contact with a slimy thing clinging to the
wall--a thing that hissed and scuttled out of reach. What it was, the
man could not know; but almost instantly there was a splash in the
water just ahead of him and then another.
On he went, passing beneath other arches at varying distances, and
always in utter darkness. Unseen denizens of this great sewer,
disturbed by the intruder, splashed into the water ahead of him and
wriggled away. Time and again his hand touched them and never for an
instant could he be sure that at the next step some gruesome thing
might not attack him. He had strapped his haversack about his neck,
well above the surface of the water, and in his left hand he carried
his knife. Other precautions there were none to take.
The monotony of the blind trail was increased by the fact that from the
moment he had started from the foot of the ladder he had counted his
every step. He had promised to return for An-Tak if it proved humanly
possible to do so, and he knew that in the blackness of the tunnel he
could locate the foot of the ladder in no other way.
He had taken two hundred and sixty-nine steps--afterward he knew that
he should never forget that number--when something bumped gently
against him from behind. Instantly he wheeled about and with knife
ready to defend himself stretched forth his right hand to push away the
object that now had lodged against his body. His fingers feeling
through the darkness came in contact with something cold and
clammy--they passed to and fro over the thing until Bradley knew that
it was the face of a dead man floating upon the surface of the stream.
With an oath he pushed his gruesome companion out into mid-stream to
float on down toward the great pool and the awaiting scavengers of the
deep.
At his four hundred and thirteenth step another corpse bumped against
him--how many had passed him without touching he could not guess; but
suddenly he experienced the sensation of being surrounded by dead faces
floating along with him, all set in hideous grimaces, their dead eyes
glaring at this profaning alien who dared intrude upon the waters of
this river of the dead--a horrid escort, pregnant with dire forebodings
and with menace.
Though he advanced very slowly, he tried always to take steps of about
the same length; so that he knew that though considerable time had
elapsed, yet he had really advanced no more than four hundred yards
when ahead he saw a lessening of the pitch-darkness, and at the next
turn of the stream his surroundings became vaguely discernible. Above
him was an arched roof and on either hand walls pierced at intervals by
apertures covered with wooden doors. Just ahead of him in the roof of
the aqueduct was a round, black hole about thirty inches in diameter.
His eyes still rested upon the opening when there shot downward from it
to the water below the naked body of a human being which almost
immediately rose to the surface again and floated off down the stream.
In the dim light Bradley saw that it was a dead Wieroo from which the
wings and head had been removed. A moment later another headless body
floated past, recalling what An-Tak had told him of the
skull-collecting customs of the Wieroo. Bradley wondered how it
happened that the first corpse he had encountered in the stream had not
been similarly mutilated.
The farther he advanced now, the lighter it became. The number of
corpses was much smaller than he had imagined, only two more passing
him before, at six hundred steps, or about five hundred yards, from the
point he had taken to the stream, he came to the end of the tunnel and
looked out upon sunlit water, running between grassy banks.
One of the last corpses to pass him was still clothed in the white robe
of a Wieroo, blood-stained over the headless neck that it concealed.
Drawing closer to the opening leading into the bright daylight, Bradley
surveyed what lay beyond. A short distance before him a large building
stood in the center of several acres of grass and tree-covered ground,
spanning the stream which disappeared through an opening in its
foundation wall. From the large saucer-shaped roof and the vivid
colorings of the various heterogeneous parts of the structure he
recognized it as the temple past which he had been borne to the Blue
Place of Seven Skulls.
To and fro flew Wieroos, going to and from the temple. Others passed
on foot across the open grounds, assisting themselves with their great
wings, so that they barely skimmed the earth. To leave the mouth of
the tunnel would have been to court instant discovery and capture; but
by what other avenue he might escape, Bradley could not guess, unless
he retraced his steps up the stream and sought egress from the other
end of the city. The thought of traversing that dark and horror-ridden
tunnel for perhaps miles he could not entertain--there must be some
other way. Perhaps after dark he could steal through the temple
grounds and continue on downstream until he had come beyond the city;
and so he stood and waited until his limbs became almost paralyzed with
cold, and he knew that he must find some other plan for escape.
A half-formed decision to risk an attempt to swim under water to the
temple was crystallizing in spite of the fact that any chance Wieroo
flying above the stream might easily see him, when again a floating
object bumped against him from behind and lodged across his back.
Turning quickly he saw that the thing was what he had immediately
guessed it to be--a headless and wingless Wieroo corpse. With a grunt
of disgust he was about to push it from him when the white garment
enshrouding it suggested a bold plan to his resourceful brain.
Grasping the corpse by an arm he tore the garment from it and then let
the body float downward toward the temple. With great care he draped
the robe about him; the bloody blotch that had covered the severed neck
he arranged about his own head. His haversack he rolled as tightly as
possible and stuffed beneath his coat over his breast. Then he fell
gently to the surface of the stream and lying upon his back floated
downward with the current and out into the open sunlight.
Through the weave of the cloth he could distinguish large objects. He
saw a Wieroo flap dismally above him; he saw the banks of the stream
float slowly past; he heard a sudden wail upon the right-hand shore,
and his heart stood still lest his ruse had been discovered; but never
by a move of a muscle did he betray that aught but a cold lump of clay
floated there upon the bosom of the water, and soon, though it seemed
an eternity to him, the direct sunlight was blotted out, and he knew
that he had entered beneath the temple.
Quickly he felt for bottom with his feet and as quickly stood erect,
snatching the bloody, clammy cloth from his face. On both sides were
blank walls and before him the river turned a sharp corner and
disappeared. Feeling his way cautiously forward he approached the turn
and looked around the corner. To his left was a low platform about a
foot above the level of the stream, and onto this he lost no time in
climbing, for he was soaked from head to foot, cold and almost
exhausted.
As he lay resting on the skull-paved shelf, he saw in the center of the
vault above the river another of those sinister round holes through
which he momentarily expected to see a headless corpse shoot downward
in its last plunge to a watery grave. A few feet along the platform a
closed door broke the blankness of the wall. As he lay looking at it
and wondering what lay behind, his mind filled with fragments of many
wild schemes of escape, it opened and a white robed Wieroo stepped out
upon the platform. The creature carried a large wooden basin filled
with rubbish. Its eyes were not upon Bradley, who drew himself to a
squatting position and crouched as far back in the corner of the niche
in which the platform was set as he could force himself. The Wieroo
stepped to the edge of the platform and dumped the rubbish into the
stream. If it turned away from him as it started to retrace its steps
to the doorway, there was a small chance that it might not see him; but
if it turned toward him there was none at all. Bradley held his breath.
The Wieroo paused a moment, gazing down into the water, then it
straightened up and turned toward the Englishman. Bradley did not
move. The Wieroo stopped and stared intently at him. It approached
him questioningly. Still Bradley remained as though carved of stone.
The creature was directly in front of him. It stopped. There was no
chance on earth that it would not discover what he was.
With the quickness of a cat, Bradley sprang to his feet and with all
his great strength, backed by his heavy weight, struck the Wieroo upon
the point of the chin. Without a sound the thing crumpled to the
platform, while Bradley, acting almost instinctively to the urge of the
first law of nature, rolled the inanimate body over the edge into the
river.
Then he looked at the open doorway, crossed the platform and peered
within the apartment beyond. What he saw was a large room, dimly
lighted, and about the side rows of wooden vessels stacked one upon
another. There was no Wieroo in sight, so the Englishman entered. At
the far end of the room was another door, and as he crossed toward it,
he glanced into some of the vessels, which he found were filled with
dried fruits, vegetables and fish. Without more ado he stuffed his
pockets and his haversack full, thinking of the poor creature awaiting
his return in the gloom of the Place of Seven Skulls.
When night came, he would return and fetch An-Tak this far at least;
but in the meantime it was his intention to reconnoiter in the hope
that he might discover some easier way out of the city than that
offered by the chill, black channel of the ghastly river of corpses.
Beyond the farther door stretched a long passageway from which closed
doorways led into other parts of the cellars of the temple. A few
yards from the storeroom a ladder rose from the corridor through an
aperture in the ceiling. Bradley paused at the foot of it, debating
the wisdom of further investigation against a return to the river; but
strong within him was the spirit of exploration that has scattered his
race to the four corners of the earth. What new mysteries lay hidden
in the chambers above? The urge to know was strong upon him though his
better judgment warned him that the safer course lay in retreat. For a
moment he stood thus, running his fingers through his hair; then he
cast discretion to the winds and began the ascent.
In conformity with such Wieroo architecture as he had already observed,