The world below
It appeared that, being entered, it would offer no exit until I reached
the further end, however far it might be.
But there was no appearance of any possible danger, and I knew that it
was the way which I had been directed to take. The only warning I had
received was to traverse it as rapidly as possible, and it certainly did
not appear to be an inviting avenue in which to linger.
Perhaps it was the fact that I must emerge from it on the threshold of a
new experience, the nature of which I could only guess very dimly, that
made me rest so long, even when I waked from the sleep I needed, before
I entered the passage, but I remember that I did it with a great
reluctance, and started at a pace which, though it might not be equal to
the light swift running of my instructress, was sufficient to take me a
long way forward in safety.
After a time, I noticed that my feet were becoming warm, and realised
that the sand must be heated, though not so much so as the soil on which
I had walked previously. I did not think it to be sufficiently so to
constitute a serious danger, or discomfort, but I considered that it
might be a different matter to a foot protected only by its own fur,
and, supposing that I had found the explanation of the warning, and that
it did not affect me, and being somewhat short of breath from the long
spurt I had taken, I slackened to a quieter walk,--and as my right foot
came down, a pink streak shot out of the sand a few inches from it, and
smacked against my ankle, with a sound like a whip lash. I jumped, with
a cry of horror, or at least I tried to jump, and came down on my hands,
for the grip held, and I was powerless to break it. The pink worm did
not twine round my foot, but lay up the side, holding on, leech-like, by
power of suction. It was trying to drag the foot into the sand, but, for
the moment, that was beyond its power. Wrenching desperately, I tried to
get loose the axe, for which I had expected no use, and which was slung
on my back, under the knapsack, for convenience as I ran. When I got it
clear I realised that I could not strike hard against my own ankle, and
to an attempt at cutting, my assailant showed the resilient rubber-like
quality which seemed common to several of the forms of life with which I
was becoming familiar. With a despairing effort I strained my foot a few
inches from the ground, and drove a hard blow beneath it, at which the
severed worm fell writhing on the sand.
But now there were two others round my left foot, and their united
strength was too great for me to lift it to enable me to deal with them
in the same way. I gave up the axe, and hacked them free with the clasp
knife. Then I saw that the ground behind me, and for several yards in
front, showed similar worms that had pushed up through the sand, and
waved and felt around for the origin of the vibrations which had
disturbed them.
No doubt they had been rising behind me all the time, but I had passed
over the ground so quickly that I had always been in advance of my
danger, and unaware that it threatened me.
I suppose that the roots of the plants without,--if plants they could be
called,--grew under the wall of the tunnel, and lived among the sand,
though the conditions did not allow of the leaves shooting up in such
soil, or in the absence of the light they needed.
I noticed with some relief that the surrounding tongues could not reach
me while I remained motionless, and I concluded that they must be in
some way rooted, or growing from a common source, which kept them in
their places securely.
I watched for perhaps half an hour without motion while the long tongues
gradually quietened, and then thinking that the time would soon come
when I could make a rush to pass them, I made a careless movement, which
stirred them to fresh activity, and the weary waiting had to be
commenced again. At last, when most of them had withdrawn, and the rest
were quiescent, I made a sudden rush, and though more than one shot
upward as I passed, I ran through them successfully.
For some time I ran on at my utmost speed, and exhausted myself
proportionately. For another mile, perhaps, I kept to a panting trot,
and I began to see the pink heads thrust up as I passed them. I looked
back and saw them already high in the air a few yards behind. The sight
gave me a fresh spurt, but it could not last. I could see no end to the
tunnel. In fact I could see a very moderate distance only, owing to the
steam in the atmosphere, and the narrow slit through which the light
must enter. I had no means of estimating its length. It might be five
miles. It might be fifty. Soon my pace slackened. Soon I was hacking
with my knife again. Then there was the weary motionless waiting, till I
could again go forward in safety.
The next time my foot was caught I fell forward, and before I could
rise, a dozen of them were round me. One held me by the right wrist,
pulling till the hand was sunk in the sand, despite my frenzied efforts
to free it. I was carrying the clasp-knife open in this hand, but I
caught it up with my left and hacked through the sand, and at last cut
the pulling worm that held me. I turned to others that were straining at
my sides and legs, and one by one I cut them through. Then I noticed
that my right wrist was streaming with blood, and thought at first that
the knife had slashed it, till I saw that a broad line across the back
was mottled with punctured wounds, where the worm had sucked it.
I sat there for a long time, with neither strength nor courage to
adventure farther. I thought of going back, but I felt that the distance
would be beyond my strength to traverse.
The distance ahead _might_ be less,--it seemed my one hope. (It was
actually much longer, if I estimate correctly how far I had then gone.)
Anyway, it would be uphill back, and that would defeat my speed, and I
supposed that the creatures might be more alert after I had disturbed
them. I wondered if I could tap the ground in front of me and cut them
down, one by one, as they pushed upward. But I had had no food for many
hours, and I was already conscious of exhaustion. Water I could have,
and I drank again, after cooling it. I thought of wading in the central
stream, but even could I have kept my feet in that swift smooth current
I supposed that the heat would be unendurable. And then came a thought
which animated me with a fresh hope. Could I leap to the other side? It
seemed too broad to be possible,--and I could get no run for the jump,
unless I took it at a slant, which would make it longer. I had no more
than space to stand upright for about a yard from the water’s edge. I
could step two paces back if I crouched.
The sand had become quiet now. I would go forward while I could, and try
the leap when the need grew urgent. Was it wise to wait till I should be
again too exhausted to try it? On an impulse I leapt. In the nervous
fear of falling into the stream I leapt too far, and my head struck the
opposite wall, though not severely.
There was no relief on this side. The jar with which I struck the ground
roused my enemies with such celerity that I barely escaped them. As I
ran I thought I had gained nothing, till I realised that if I were hard
pressed I could always win a moment’s freedom, or a fresh start, if I
jumped again.
It was not much, but it was something.
Of the rest of that passage I do not wish to write in detail. I do not
wish to recall it.
It is enough that the time came when a point of light showed in the
distance, and when I staggered into the daylight. Of the scene that lay
before me, I was not clearly conscious. I was at the utmost point of
fatigue of nerve and body. I lay down and slept till the day,--which now
covered a period of more than four times that to which I was
accustomed,--was sinking toward sunset.
CHAPTER X
THE AMPHIBIANS
I awakened at last to a confused memory only, recalling how I had leapt
short and fallen into the steaming water, which, when it reached that
place, must have cooled. Vaguely I remembered how it had swept me down,
and of a half-stunned instinctive effort to regain my feet, but of how I
got out, or whether I had struggled long in the water, or been able to
wade down it, and so escape the danger of the sand, I could not recall
with certainty. I think I must have been on the sand for the last few
yards, or I should have been swept over the edge by the stream, which
fell sheer five hundred feet into the sea beneath. For I was lying on a
level opal path such as I had traversed previously, with this difference
only, that the cultivated ground sloped upward behind me, and the cliff
upon the other side sank steeply to the sea.
The sun was still hot,--more so on this lower level than on the higher
ground I had left,--and it had dried me while I slept, but I was stiff
with wounds and exhaustion, and faint with hunger, and I found that I
could only stand with difficulty. My boots were soaked with blood, and
the laces were torn away, so that I had to use some string from my
little store of necessities with which to fasten them.
If I wished to reach the end of my journey alive I knew that I must do
so quickly; but I looked round in vain for any path to help me.
Beneath me now was the unchanging sea, blue and smooth, with a touch of
white where the ground shallowed it. Three miles out, it may be, showed
the long line of rocks for which I had been told to look.
Beyond, I knew, must be the grey beaches which I was seeking.
But how could I cross the intervening water? It was a difficulty which
might not have occurred to a creature no more at home on land than in
the water, or perhaps less so. But I was not gilled or web-footed.
Sign of life there was none. Not even a bird was winging across the
unclouded blue.
Even to descend the cliff was impossible.
I might explore the path either to right or left, and with no choice
between them, for it ran straight on as far as I could see in either
direction, and the cliff-wall showed no change.
And then my eyes were attracted by a dark spot, a blur,--a slowly
lengthening blur, which came from the black rocks, and was gradually
stretching itself toward me over the water.
My perception was quickened by past experience. Here must be another
invisible bridge, by which something large and formidable was crossing
toward me.
In fact, as I quickly proved, the bridge stretched out straight before
the place where I was seated, and I had only to remain, and whatever was
coming must inevitably encounter me.
Almost too worn for fear, and recognising the futility of evasion, I
resolved to do so.
I had arrived at so low a point that only active help could aid me. If
that which approached were hostile or indifferent the result would be
similar. So I sat and waited.
It was not very long--for the approach came swiftly--before I was able
to guess that it consisted of a long column of creatures similar to her
whom I had first met. They stretched for half a furlong in mid-air,
advancing at a rapid trot, and as they came nearer I recalled their mode
of conversing, and tried to adjust my mind, to get, if possible, into
sympathy with them.
After a time I succeeded,--at least in hearing their minds, though they
did not respond. I suppose that this was because they were all thinking
as one, for normally I found it impossible to establish conversation in
this way, except by mutual willingness.
I found that these creatures, who had no use for articulate speech, and
to whom sound was an outrage, possessed at once a finer music and a
higher poetry than our clumsier arts had even reached out to imagine.