The Golden Rock Part 55

It seemed so retired, was so silent, that in security they placed no guard, they made no fire, neither did they talk; but stretched themselves on the sand and slept, and the sky was blue above them when they opened their eyes again.

Yet weariness weighed upon their lids, their limbs were heavy, and the morning air was charged with a sweet odour that seemed to lull the senses.

Slowly they opened their eyes, blinked at the strong light, closed them again, without any feeling of surprise that they had slept so long, then remained still, listening idly. They heard, afar off, the drowsy war-song of the Zulu warriors; but it was a sound detached from their surroundings that no longer moved them. They did not ask themselves where they were nor why. A strange relaxation of mind and body had overcome them--the reaction possibly from the fierce impulse which had impelled them on in face of all danger. Constant anxiety, want of sleep, and poor food had worn them out. Was that the explanation of their stupor, or did it arise from some other source--that faint and subtle odour that recalled to Laura, at least, the swinging of a censer in some dimly-lighted aisle? She saw the shadowy figures of priests moving softly to and fro, the forms of women kneeling, and involuntarily there broke from her lips, in a tremulous whisper, the pet.i.tion, "Ave Maria."

Webster stirred, and muttered with a yawn:

"Eight bells, and my watch; a calm sea, and a bright night."

"Eh!" said Hume; "what's the matter with my eyes? I cannot open them."

"We're bewitched!" shouted Klaas.

They sat up, and then with a cry of fear and amazement looked at each other. They were bound hand and foot!

Bound with the very rheims which they had used to secure their packs, their weapons removed, and all their belongings. And yet not one of them had felt the slightest touch, or heard the faintest movement of their enemies, neither was there anyone visible beyond themselves.

The room was about ten feet square, its roof opened to the sky, the walls covered with the shining leaves and twisted tendrils of the wild vine.

"What is the matter?" asked Hume, struggling wildly to free his hands.

"Heaven knows!" muttered Webster, staring helplessly at his bonds.

"And to be bound like this!" cried Hume, in fierce and bitter despair.

"Sirayo, what do you say?"

There were beads of sweat on the chief's forehead, for his bruised arm had been torn from the sling and tightly bound, while his fingers trembled with the pain.

"It is true, we have been bewitched," he said hoa.r.s.ely, "for I felt no one touch me, even though they bound my wounded arm."

"Laura, are you also bound?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Webster struggled to free himself, then rolled over until with his fingers he could touch her cold hand.

"This is awful," muttered Hume. "Can't you see any spoor?"

"No," growled Webster; "the sand has been kicked up, but I can see no footmarks."

For many minutes they stared at each other with wild eyes, then making a frantic effort, Webster rose to his feet, swayed about a moment, then, in a series of jumps, reached the opening, where he steadied himself.

"Good heavens!" he gasped.

They all heard his cry with a feeling of something terrible impending.

"What now?" cried Hume.

"Nothing," came the faint reply, "but the tightening of the ropes;" but when he turned, his face was ghastly white, and there was a look of horror in his eyes.

Slowly he shuffled to his former place, then turned his head to watch the opening, while his breath came quickly.

"You have seen something," she whispered, with her eyes fixed on the opening.

"No," he said; "there is no one there. Laura, can you move up against the far end of the wall? You will be in the shade there. Try, please."

She slowly crept to the wall, then Hume was asked to join her, and, with a deep groan at his weakness, he did so. Then Webster, with a sigh of relief, sat with his back to them, and his face to the opening, and there came into his eyes that same look of horror. The two warriors saw his fixed gaze, caught, too, the fear in it, and their eyes were fastened on the opening.

"Why don't you talk," said Hume, "and tell me what you see; the size of the room, its appearance, anything to relieve this darkness and suspense."

"Be still," muttered Webster, in hollow tones.

Hume suppressed the fierce retort that rose to his lips, and the others sat staring at the opening, finding in this new suggestion of unknown danger a fear which quenched the speculation about the mysterious nature of their bondage. So they sat on, while from beyond there came to them a confused sound of shouting, while the sunlight streamed in in a white light, and the broad leaves of the vine rustled softly, and imagination working on their fears kept their senses on the rack. The air grew closer, their lips were parched, and the sweet odour in the heavy air oppressed their breathing.

"Speak," whispered Laura, moistening her lips.

"Yes, for G.o.d's sake break this silence! It is worse than death;" and Hume rolled impatiently from side to side.

"Yes," muttered Webster; "it is terrible, this waiting. Shall we talk of the Golden Rock?"

"No, no," she cried, with a shudder.

"I remember once," he resumed slowly, "when on the sea--shall I ever feel the touch of the salt breeze again?--the look-out reported the sea-serpent ahead, and, sure enough, we saw the gleaming curves of his body. I recall well how we all grouped forward till the captain gruffly dusted us for a lot of swabs, though he himself had kept his eye glued to his gla.s.s. The sea-serpent proved to be a floating mast with a trailing ma.s.s of rope and a dead body caught in the raffle."

Laura laughed hysterically.

"A pleasant story," said Hume savagely.

"Man, I can't think of a joke; my brain revolts from the effort. Why were serpents created footless, stealthy, lidless, implacable--the living embodiment of cunning, their very presence--" He stopped short, and the hairs of his moustache bristled. "It comes," he whispered.

"There! there!"

Spellbound, they gazed at something that flickered in the opening at a height of about three feet from the ground, something strange, black, supple, that quivered in the air like a thin flame of fire, insignificant in size, yet suggestive in its lightning play of something terrible. Scarcely breathing, they waited for what was to follow, and in a moment found themselves looking into the unwinking eyes of a huge serpent. The long head and about two feet of the muscular neck alone showed, held high above the ground, and remaining there fixed as if cast in bronze. The sunlight pouring on the large scales made them glow like bits of burnished metal in tints of blue and yellow, while a greenish light smouldered in the unwinking eyes. In the actual size of the head there was nothing alarming. It was no bigger than a man's hand, with the thumb bent in, the fingers extended, and the knuckles arched, while the neck was no thicker than a man's wrist. A strong man might grasp it by the neck and strangle it--so Webster thought--but the eyes--ah! in their fixed, impenetrable stare, there was the suggestion of unknown power and mysterious force. Suddenly the forked tongue darted out from the aperture in the grim jaws, quivered rapidly, and then the head was withdrawn.

"Thank G.o.d!" murmured Webster.

With a faint cry, Laura fainted away, and was mercifully spared the fresh trial.

"Ah! heavens! Again!" whispered Webster, while, with an awful cry, the Gaika wriggled back to the far end of the room, and turned his face to the wall.

Suddenly the snake darted its head along the floor, and the body poured in with a swift and silent motion, the muscles standing out in a ridge along its swelling bulk. Half-way it reached across the floor in that swift dart; then its head and neck curved back, and the body was bent like a huge S to permit the fatal strike at its destined victim.

"I can feel there is something awful in the room," said Hume, in hollow tones; "tell me what!"

Webster gulped down a lump in his throat. "A snake!" he gasped, and his eyes, wild and starting, were held as in a spell. He was the nearer, for Sirayo had shrunk against the wall at the side. This thing he felt could only take one. He was to be that one. Well, all right; he would not see Laura die.

Then he went through an ordeal that nearly shook his reason. The snake moved its head from side to side, and his head moved also. The tongue darted out, and his lips quivered. The head was suddenly uplifted, and he staggered to his feet. He began to laugh--foolishly--and his features twitched horribly. His body swayed to and fro, and, with an inarticulate cry he fell forward, his outstretched hands striking against the cold scales. With a loud hiss the reptile darted forward till its head rested on Laura's insensible body, and its coils gathered upon Webster's. So it remained a minute, then the head was reared against the wall, the leaves rustled to the strange, flowing movement of the heavy coils, the tail presently slithered over the sand, went up the wall, and disappeared.

Sirayo followed it with bloodshot eyes, looked a moment at the entrance to see if some new horror were in store, looked at the motionless figures about him, then shouted in Zulu: "It is gone; wake up!"

As if in response to his shout, a low music broke out, thin and monotonous, the strains from a native bow, and gradually, as each one of the helpless band revived, they listened with intense relief to these signs of human presence. In the grim silence of that room they had begun to think that there was something magical in the manner of their capture, and they would have welcomed any foe in human form rather than think of another visit from the python.