<h3>XXVII - WE LEAP</h3>
<p>We passed through the caves without trouble, but when we came to the
slope of the inverted cone two difficulties stared us in the face. The
first of these was the laborious nature of the ascent, and the next the
extreme difficulty of finding our way. Indeed, had it not been for the
mental notes that I had fortunately taken of the shape of various rocks,
I am sure that we never should have managed it at all, but have wandered
about in the dreadful womb of the volcano—for I suppose it must
once have been something of the sort—until we died of exhaustion and
despair. As it was we went wrong several times, and once nearly fell
into a huge crack or crevasse. It was terrible work creeping about
in the dense gloom and awful stillness from boulder to boulder,
and examining it by the feeble light of the lamps to see if I could
recognise its shape. We rarely spoke, our hearts were too heavy
for speech, we simply stumbled about, falling sometimes and cutting
ourselves, in a rather dogged sort of way. The fact was that our spirits
were utterly crushed, and we did not greatly care what happened to us.
Only we felt bound to try and save our lives whilst we could, and indeed
a natural instinct prompted us to it. So for some three or four hours,
I should think—I cannot tell exactly how long, for we had no watch
left that would go—we blundered on. During the last two hours we were
completely lost, and I began to fear that we had got into the funnel of
some subsidiary cone, when at last I suddenly recognised a very large
rock which we had passed in descending but a little way from the top.
It is a marvel that I should have recognised it, and, indeed, we
had already passed it going at right angles to the proper path, when
something about it struck me, and I turned back and examined it in an
idle sort of way, and, as it happened, this proved our salvation.</p>
<p>After this we gained the rocky natural stair without much further
trouble, and in due course found ourselves back in the little chamber
where the benighted Noot had lived and died.</p>
<p>But now a fresh terror stared us in the face. It will be remembered that
owing to Job's fear and awkwardness, the plank upon which we had crossed
from the huge spur to the rocking-stone had been whirled off into the
tremendous gulf below.</p>
<p>How were we to cross without the plank?</p>
<p>There was only one answer—we must try and <i>jump</i> it, or else stop there
till we starved. The distance in itself was not so very great, between
eleven and twelve feet I should think, and I have seen Leo jump over
twenty when he was a young fellow at collage; but then, think of the
conditions. Two weary, worn-out men, one of them on the wrong side of
forty, a rocking-stone to take off from, a trembling point of rock some
few feet across to land upon, and a bottomless gulf to be cleared in a
raging gale! It was bad enough, God knows, but when I pointed out these
things to Leo, he put the whole matter in a nutshell, by replying that,
merciless as the choice was, we must choose between the certainty of a
lingering death in the chamber and the risk of a swift one in the air.
Of course, there was no arguing against this, but one thing was clear,
we could not attempt that leap in the dark; the only thing to do was to
wait for the ray of light which pierced through the gulf at sunset.
How near to or how far from sunset we might be, neither of us had the
faintest notion; all we did know was, that when at last the light came
it would not endure more than a couple of minutes at the outside, so
that we must be prepared to meet it. Accordingly, we made up our minds
to creep on to the top of the rocking-stone and lie there in readiness.
We were the more easily reconciled to this course by the fact that our
lamps were once more nearly exhausted—indeed, one had gone out bodily,
and the other was jumping up and down as the flame of a lamp does when
the oil is done. So, by the aid of its dying light, we hastened to crawl
out of the little chamber and clamber up the side of the great stone.</p>
<p>As we did so the light went out.</p>
<p>The difference in our position was a sufficiently remarkable one.
Below, in the little chamber, we had only heard the roaring of the
gale overhead—here, lying on our faces on the swinging stone, we were
exposed to its full force and fury, as the great draught drew first from
this direction and then from that, howling against the mighty precipice
and through the rocky cliffs like ten thousand despairing souls. We lay
there hour after hour in terror and misery of mind so deep that I will
not attempt to describe it, and listened to the wild storm-voices
of that Tartarus, as, set to the deep undertone of the spur opposite
against which the wind hummed like some awful harp, they called to each
other from precipice to precipice. No nightmare dreamed by man, no wild
invention of the romancer, can ever equal the living horror of that
place, and the weird crying of those voices of the night, as we clung
like shipwrecked mariners to a raft, and tossed on the black, unfathomed
wilderness of air. Fortunately the temperature was not a low one;
indeed, the wind was warm, or we should have perished. So we clung and
listened, and while we were stretched out upon the rock a thing happened
which was so curious and suggestive in itself, though doubtless a mere
coincidence, that, if anything, it added to, rather than deducted from,
the burden on our nerves.</p>
<p>It will be remembered that when Ayesha was standing on the spur, before
we crossed to the stone, the wind tore her cloak from her, and whirled
it away into the darkness of the gulf, we could not see whither. Well—I
hardly like to tell the story; it is so strange. As we lay there upon
the rocking-stone, this very cloak came floating out of the black space,
like a memory from the dead, and fell on Leo—so that it covered him
nearly from head to foot. We could not at first make out what it was,
but soon discovered by its feel, and then poor Leo, for the first time,
gave way, and I heard him sobbing there upon the stone. No doubt the
cloak had been caught upon some pinnacle of the cliff, and was thence
blown hither by a chance gust; but still, it was a most curious and
touching incident.</p>
<p>Shortly after this, suddenly, without the slightest previous warning,
the great red knife of light came stabbing the darkness through and
through—struck the swaying stone on which we were, and rested its sharp
point upon the spur opposite.</p>
<p>"Now for it," said Leo, "now or never."</p>
<p>We rose and stretched ourselves, and looked at the cloud-wreaths stained
the colour of blood by that red ray as they tore through the sickening
depths beneath, and then at the empty space between the swaying stone
and the quivering rock, and, in our hearts, despaired, and prepared for
death. Surely we could not clear it—desperate though we were.</p>
<p>"Who is to go first?" said I.</p>
<p>"Do you, old fellow," answered Leo. "I will sit upon the other side of
the stone to steady it. You must take as much run as you can, and jump
high; and God have mercy on us, say I."</p>
<p>I acquiesced with a nod, and then I did a thing I had never done since
Leo was a little boy. I turned and put my arm round him, and kissed him
on the forehead. It sounds rather French, but as a fact I was taking my
last farewell of a man whom I could not have loved more if he had been
my own son twice over.</p>
<p>"Good-bye, my boy," I said, "I hope that we shall meet again, wherever
it is that we go to."</p>
<p>The fact was I did not expect to live another two minutes.</p>
<p>Next I retreated to the far side of the rock, and waited till one of the
chopping gusts of wind got behind me, and then I ran the length of the
huge stone, some three or four and thirty feet, and sprang wildly out
into the dizzy air. Oh! the sickening terrors that I felt as I launched
myself at that little point of rock, and the horrible sense of despair
that shot through my brain as I realised that I had <i>jumped short!</i> but
so it was, my feet never touched the point, they went down into space,
only my hands and body came in contact with it. I gripped at it with
a yell, but one hand slipped, and I swung right round, holding by the
other, so that I faced the stone from which I had sprung. Wildly I
stretched up with my left hand, and this time managed to grasp a knob of
rock, and there I hung in the fierce red light, with thousands of feet
of empty air beneath me. My hands were holding to either side of
the under part of the spur, so that its point was touching my head.
Therefore, even if I could have found the strength, I could not pull
myself up. The most that I could do would be to hang for about a minute,
and then drop down, down into the bottomless pit. If any man can imagine
a more hideous position, let him speak! All I know is that the torture
of that half-minute nearly turned my brain.</p>
<p>I heard Leo give a cry, and then suddenly saw him in mid air springing
up and out like a chamois. It was a splendid leap that he took under the
influence of his terror and despair, clearing the horrible gulf as if it
were nothing, and, landing well on to the rocky point, he threw himself
upon his face, to prevent his pitching off into the depths. I felt the
spur above me shake beneath the shock of his impact, and as it did so I
saw the huge rocking-stone, that had been violently depressed by him as
he sprang, fly back when relieved of his weight till, for the first time
during all these centuries, it got beyond its balance, fell with a
most awful crash right into the rocky chamber which had once served the
philosopher Noot for a hermitage, and, I have no doubt, for ever sealed
the passage that leads to the Place of Life with some hundreds of tons
of rock.</p>
<p>All this happened in a second, and curiously enough, notwithstanding my
terrible position, I noted it involuntarily, as it were. I even remember
thinking that no human being would go down that dread path again.</p>
<p>Next instant I felt Leo seize me by the right wrist with both hands. By
lying flat on the point of rock he could just reach me.</p>
<p>"You must let go and swing yourself clear," he said in a calm and
collected voice, "and then I will try and pull you up, or we will both
go together. Are you ready?"</p>
<p>By way of answer I let go, first with my left hand and then with the
right, and, as a consequence, swayed out clear of the overshadowing
rock, my weight hanging upon Leo's arms. It was a dreadful moment. He
was a very powerful man, I knew, but would his strength be equal to
lifting me up till I could get a hold on the top of the spur, when owing
to his position he had so little purchase?</p>
<p>For a few seconds I swung to and fro, while he gathered himself for the
effort, and then I heard his sinews cracking above me, and felt myself
lifted up as though I were a little child, till I got my left arm round
the rock, and my chest was resting on it. The rest was easy; in two or
three more seconds I was up, and we were lying panting side by side,
trembling like leaves, and with the cold perspiration of terror pouring
from our skins.</p>
<p>And then, as before, the light went out like a lamp.</p>
<p>For some half-hour we lay thus without speaking a word, and then at
length began to creep along the great spur as best we might in the dense
gloom. As we drew towards the face of the cliff, however, from which the
spur sprang out like a spike from a wall, the light increased, though
only a very little, for it was night overhead. After that the gusts of
wind decreased, and we got along rather better, and at last reached the
mouth of the first cave or tunnel. But now a fresh trouble stared as
in the face: our oil was gone, and the lamps were, no doubt, crushed to
powder beneath the fallen rocking-stone. We were even without a drop of
water to stay our thirst, for we had drunk the last in the chamber
of Noot. How were we to see to make our way through this last
boulder-strewn tunnel?</p>
<p>Clearly all that we could do was to trust to our sense of feeling, and
attempt the passage in the dark, so in we crept, fearing that if
we delayed to do so our exhaustion would overcome us, and we should
probably lie down and die where we were.</p>
<p>Oh, the horrors of that last tunnel! The place was strewn with rocks,
and we fell over them, and knocked ourselves up against them till we
were bleeding from a score of wounds. Our only guide was the side of
the cavern, which we kept touching, and so bewildered did we grow in the
darkness that we were several times seized with the terrifying thought
that we had turned, and were travelling the wrong way. On we went,
feebly, and still more feebly, for hour after hour, stopping every few
minutes to rest, for our strength was spent. Once we fell asleep, and, I
think, must have slept for some hours, for, when we woke, our limbs were
quite stiff, and the blood from our blows and scratches had caked, and
was hard and dry upon our skin. Then we dragged ourselves on again, till
at last, when despair was entering into our hearts, we once more saw the
light of day, and found ourselves outside the tunnel in the rocky fold
on the outer surface of the cliff that, it will be remembered, led into
it.</p>
<p>It was early morning—that we could tell by the feel of the sweet air
and the look of the blessed sky, which we had never hoped to see again.
It was, so near as we knew, an hour after sunset when we entered the
tunnel, so it followed that it had taken us the entire night to crawl
through that dreadful place.</p>
<p>"One more effort, Leo," I gasped, "and we shall reach the slope where
Billali is, if he hasn't gone. Come, don't give way," for he had cast
himself upon his face. He rose, and, leaning on each other, we got down
that fifty feet or so of cliff—somehow, I have not the least notion
how. I only remember that we found ourselves lying in a heap at the
bottom, and then once more began to drag ourselves along on our hands
and knees towards the grove where <i>She</i> had told Billali to wait her
re-arrival, for we could not walk another foot. We had not gone fifty
yards in this fashion when suddenly one of the mutes emerged from
the trees on our left, through which, I presume, he had been taking a
morning stroll, and came running up to see what sort of strange animals
we were. He stared, and stared, and then held up his hands in horror,
and nearly fell to the ground. Next, he started off as hard as he
could for the grove some two hundred yards away. No wonder that he was
horrified at our appearance, for we must have been a shocking sight.
To begin, Leo, with his golden curls turned a snowy white, his clothes
nearly rent from his body, his worn face and his hands a mass of
bruises, cuts, and blood-encrusted filth, was a sufficiently alarming
spectacle, as he painfully dragged himself along the ground, and I
have no doubt that I was little better to look on. I know that two days
afterwards when I inspected my face in some water I scarcely recognised
myself. I have never been famous for beauty, but there was something
beside ugliness stamped upon my features that I have never got rid
of until this day, something resembling that wild look with which a
startled person wakes from deep sleep more than anything else that I can
think of. And really it is not to be wondered at. What I do wonder at is
that we escaped at all with our reason.</p>
<p>Presently, to my intense relief, I saw old Billali hurrying towards
us, and even then I could scarcely help smiling at the expression of
consternation on his dignified countenance.</p>
<p>"Oh, my Baboon! my Baboon!" he cried, "my dear son, is it indeed thee
and the Lion? Why, his mane that was ripe as corn is white like
the snow. Whence come ye? and where is the Pig, and where too
<i>She-who-must-be-obeyed</i>?"</p>
<p>"Dead, both dead," I answered; "but ask no questions; help us, and give
us food and water, or we too shall die before thine eyes. Seest thou not
that our tongues are black for want of water? How, then, can we talk?"</p>
<p>"Dead!" he gasped. "Impossible. <i>She</i> who never dies—dead, how can it
be?" and then, perceiving, I think, that his face was being watched by
the mutes who had come running up, he checked himself, and motioned to
them to carry us to the camp, which they did.</p>
<p>Fortunately when we arrived some broth was boiling on the fire, and with
this Billali fed us, for we were too weak to feed ourselves, thereby
I firmly believe saving us from death by exhaustion. Then he bade the
mutes wash the blood and grime from us with wet cloths, and after that
we were laid down upon piles of aromatic grass, and instantly fell into
the dead sleep of absolute exhaustion of mind and body.</p>
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