The Devil-Tree of El Dorado: A Novel. Aubrey Frank
pleased, half afraid at this unexpected development of events.
“You’re never going to venture into that place?” Templemore asked. “It may be full of deadly serpents. For Heaven’s sake do not be rash enough to risk it. Send one of the Indians – ”
Monella replied with a look – a look that Jack remembered for many a day after. His eyes simply flashed; and then he said quickly,
“Did you ever know me bid another go where I would not venture myself?”
Then he took the lighted lantern, swung it into the cavern at the end of the stick, and, having satisfied himself that the air within was not foul, he threw the stick in first and followed, himself, into the semi-darkness.
A minute after, his head and shoulders re-appeared, just when Jack was half way up the ladder to follow him.
“Wait a few minutes before you come up,” he asked him. “I just want to give a glance round, and there is but one lantern. Or – well – suppose you come up and wait inside. But tell the others to keep to the bottom of the ladder, and be ready to hold it in case we should wish to beat a hasty retreat.”
This seemed prudent counsel, and was carried out. When Jack got off the ladder into the opening, he was told to jump down inside; and he found there a level rocky floor about three feet below the aperture, which had thus a resemblance to a veritable window. By the dim light it gave he could see that he was in a cavern of considerable height and extent, and Monella, with his lantern, disappearing through an arched opening at some distance that seemed to lead to another cave within. He had brought with him his double-barrel, one barrel loaded with small shot, the other with ball, and he gave a look at the revolver in his belt while he stood waiting at the entrance and gazing curiously about him. He saw that a small stream of water ran through one side of the cave; there were, in fact, two streams, for one ran in a ledge at some distance from the ground; but when it came to the opening they had come through, it fell to the floor and joined the other stream, the whole finding its way out through a fissure in the rock and running down outside, as has been before described. Now the stone slab that had closed the ‘window,’ as Jack called the opening, had rested on a continuation of what may be termed the sill, and, on being pushed, had rolled off. It was a thin slab, roughly circular in shape; not unlike what one might suppose a millstone to be in the rough. Jack regarded it with close attention, almost indeed with awe; it spoke so plainly of human beings having inhabited the place, or, at least, of their having fashioned this method of closing the entrance to the cave. How long ago had they been there? And, when they went away, why had they closed the entrance so carefully?
Monella seemed a long time away; so long that Jack at last began to think of starting to look for him – they had already sent for another lantern in case it should be required – when he heard his footsteps in the distance, and shortly afterwards saw the gleam from his lantern. When he came closer, Jack scanned his face keenly, but, as usual, read nothing there.
“You can call Elwood,” said Monella, “and I will take you to where I have been. You need have no fear; the place is quite free from reptiles.”
When, however, Leonard was called, a difficulty arose; Matava and his fellows objected very strongly to being left alone outside; but it also appeared that they objected still more strongly to coming into the cavern. On no consideration whatever would they enter ‘the demons’ den,’ as they had already named it. But, since they had to make a choice, they elected, in the end, to remain outside and wait.
When Elwood was inside and had had a few moments in which to get accustomed to the obscurity and peer wonderingly about him, Monella pointed out how the opening had been closed.
“I want you to notice,” he observed, “that this stone was cemented, and this little stream of water that has accidentally found its way round here, has, in the course of time, loosened the cement; else I could not have pushed the stone away. We should have had to blast it.”
“Yes,” said Jack; “and it also shows that it was closed from the inside. Whoever last closed it never went out again – at least not by this entrance. Where then did they go to?”
“That’s what we have to see about,” returned Monella. “Now, follow me, and I will show you something that will surprise you.”
CHAPTER VII
THE CANYON WITHIN THE MOUNTAIN
Monella, with the lantern in his hand, led his two companions through an arched opening into a second cavern which seemed to be larger and loftier than the first; and this, in turn, opened into a third, at one end of which they could see that daylight entered. Monella stopped here and, lifting the light high in one hand, pointed with the other to side-openings in the rock.
“They are side-galleries, so to speak,” he said, “but do not appear to be of any great extent. I have been to the end of two or three. They all seem to be perfectly empty too; not so much as a trace of anything did I see, save loose pieces of stone here and there, that had, no doubt, fallen from the roof. Now we will go to the entrance on this side.” And he turned and walked on towards the place where they could see the glimmering of daylight.
Quite suddenly they turned a corner and saw before them a high archway, leading out into the open air; and, before the two young men had had time to express surprise, they had stepped out of the gloomy cavern into a valley, where they stood and stared in helpless astonishment upon a scene that was as lovely and enchanting as it was utterly unexpected.
They saw before them the bottom of a valley, or canyon, of about half a mile in length, and nearly a quarter of a mile in width; its floor, if one may use the expression, consisted chiefly of fine sand of a warm tawny hue; its sides, of rocks of white or pinkish white fine-grained sandstone, with here and there veins, two or three feet wide, of some metallic-looking material that glistened in the sunlight like masses of gold and silver. In other places were veins of jasper, porphyry, or some analogous rock, that sparkled and flashed as though embedded with diamonds; other parts again were dark-coloured, like black marble, throwing up in strong relief the ferns and flowers that grew in front of them.
At the further end of the valley a waterfall tumbled and foamed in the rays of the sun which, being now almost overhead, threw its beams along the whole length of the canyon. The stream that flowed below the fall widened out into clear pools here and there, fringed by stretches of velvety sward of a vivid green. The water of this stream was of a wonderful turquoise-blue tint, different from anything, Templemore thought, that he had ever seen before; and he and Elwood gazed with admiration at its inviting pellucid pools. But most extraordinary of all were the flowers that nearly everywhere were to be seen. In shape, in brilliancy of colouring, and in many other respects, they differed entirely from even the rare and wonderful orchids and other blossoms they had come across in the vicinity of Roraima. Of trees there were not many, though a few were dotted about here and there by the side of the river; and, in places, graceful palms grew out of the rocky slopes at the sides and leaned over, somewhat after the fashion of gigantic ferns. Though the valley was so shut in, and the heat in the sun very great, yet the amount of green vegetation on all sides, the blue water, and the light-coloured, cool-looking rocks, made up a scene that was gratefully refreshing after the gloom of the forest scenes to which the explorers had been so long accustomed. Moreover, by stepping back into the cool air of the cavern, they could look out upon it all without experiencing the drawback of the intense heat.
Elwood was in ecstasies. The triumphant light in his eyes, when he turned round and looked at his friend, was a thing to see.
“You confounded, wretched old grumbler,” he exclaimed, “what have you to say now? Is not this worth coming for? Or is it that even this will not suit you? Perhaps it is all too bright, the water too blue, the flowers too highly coloured, or” – here a most delicious scent was wafted across from some of the flowers – “they are perfumed too highly to please you! You haven’t found fault with anything yet, and we have been here nearly five minutes!”
Jack laughed; and Leonard noticed that it was more like his old, easy, good-natured laugh.
“I think you are too severe upon me, Leonard,” he replied. “Don’t you think so, Monella?”
Monella,