Wild Adventures round the Pole Part 18

Viewing it from the sea of ice, no one could calculate how large is the extent of the crater on the top of that mighty mountain cone. It is perfectly circular, and five hundred yards at least in circ.u.mference, but it is deeper, far and away, than any volcanic crater into which it has ever been my fortune to peer. Even when the great balloon began to alight in its centre the gulf below seemed bottomless. The _Perseverando_ appeared to be sinking down--down--down into the blackness of darkness. To the perceptions of our heroes, who peered fearfully over the car and gazed below, the gulf was rising towards them and swallowing them up.

I do not think I am detracting in the slightest from their character for bravery, when I say that the hearts of Ralph, Rory, and Allan, at all events, felt as if standing still, so terrible was the feeling of dread of some unknown danger that crept over them. As for De Vere, he was a fatalist of the newest French school, and a man that carried his life in his hand. He never attempted, it is true, any feat which he deemed all but impossible to perform; but, having embarked on an enterprise, he would go through with it, or he cared not to live.

Strange though it may appear, it is just men like this that fortune favours. Probably because the wish to continue to exist is not uppermost in their minds, the wish and the hope to achieve success is the paramount feeling.

Still slowly, very slowly, sunk the balloon, as if unwilling to leave her aerial home. And now a faint shade of light begins to mingle with the darkness beneath them; they are near the bottom of the crater at last.

"Stand by once again," whispers De Vere, "to throw that anchor over as soon as I tell you."

A moment of awful suspense.

"Now! now!" hisses De Vere.

Two anchors quit the car at the same time--one thrown by the aeronaut himself, one by Allan, and the ropes are speedily made fast. The balloon gives an upward plunge, the cables tighten, then all is still!

"Ha! ha! she is fast!" cried De Vere, now for the first time showing a little excitement. "Oh, she is a beauty! she has behave most lofely!

Look up, gentlemen!--look up!--behold the mighty walls of blue ice that surround us!--behold the circle of blue sky dat over-canopies us!--look, the stars are shining!"

"Can it be night so soon?" exclaimed Allan, in alarm.

"Nay, nay, gentlemen," said the enthusiastic Frenchman, "be easy of your minds. It is not night in the vorld outside, but here it is alvays night; up yonder the stars shine alvays, alvays, when de clouds are absent. And shine dey vill until de crack of doom. Now gaze around you. See, the darkness already begins to vanish, and you can see the vast and mighty cavern into which I have brought you. If my judgment serves me, it extends for miles around beneath de mountain. There!--you begin to perceive the gigantic stalact.i.tes that seem to support the roof!"

"Ralph," cried Rory, seizing his friend by the hand, "do you remember, years and years ago, while we all sat round the fire in the tartan parlour of Arrandoon Castle, wishing we might be able to do something that no one, man or boy, had ever done before?"

"I do--I do," answered Ralph.

"Descend with me here, then," continued Rory, "and let us explore the cavern. Only a little, _little_ way, captain," he pleaded, seeing that De Vere shook his head in strong dissent.

"You know not vat you do ask," said De Vere, solemnly. "Here are caves within caves, one cavern but hides a thousand more; besides, there are, maybe, and doubtless are, creva.s.ses in de floor of dis awful crater, into which you may tumble, neever, neever to be seen again. Pray do not think of risking a danger so vast."

The day wore slowly to a close; many and many an anxious look did McBain take skywards, in hopes of seeing the returning balloon. But the sun set, tipping the distant hills with brightest crimson, twilight died away in the west, and one by one shone out the stars, till night and darkness and silence reigned over all the sea of ice.

He went below at last. His feelings may be better imagined then described. He tried to make himself believe that nothing had occurred, and that the balloon had safely descended in some snow-clad valley, and that morning would bring good tidings. But for all this he could not for the life of him banish a dread, cold feeling that something terrible had occurred, the very novelty of which made it all the more appalling to think of. Presently the mate entered the saloon.

"What cheer, Stevenson! Any tidings?"

"A pigeon, sir," replied the mate, handing the bird into the captain's grasp.

McBain's hands shook as he had never remembered them shake before, as he undid the tiny missive from the pigeon's leg.

It ran briefly thus:--

"We are detained here in the crater all night. Do not be alarmed.

To-morrow will, please Providence, see us safely home."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

ANXIOUS HOURS--EXPLORATION OF THE MOUNTAIN CAVERN--THE CAVE OF THE KING OF ICE, AND GHOULS OF A THOUSAND WINTERS--TRANSFORMATION SCENES-- s...o...b..IND--LOST.

It would be difficult to say which was most to be pitied, McBain on board the _Arrandoon_, pa.s.sing long hours of inconceivable anxiety, or our other heroes, left to spend the drear, cold night in the awful depths of that Arctic crater.

It was with light hearts that Ralph and Rory descended from the car of the _Perseverando_ and commenced their perilous exploration of the vast and dimly-lighted cavern; but heavy hearts were left behind them, and hardly had they disappeared in the gloom ere the Frenchman exclaimed to Allan, "I greatly fear dat I have done wrong. Your two friends are big wid impulse; if anydings happen to them dere vill be for me no more peace in dis world."

Allan was silent.

But when hours pa.s.sed away and there were no signs of their returning, when gloaming itself began to fall around them, and the stars at the crater's mouth a.s.sumed a brighter hue, Allan's anxiety knew no bounds, and he proposed to De Vere to go in search of his friends.

"Ah! if dat vere indeed possible!" was the reply.

"And why not?" said Allan.

"For many reasons: de balloon vill even now hardly bear de strain on her anchors; de loss of even your veight vould require such delicate manipulation on my part, dat I fear I could not successfully vork in such small s.p.a.ce. Alas! ve must vait. But there yet is hope."

Meanwhile it behoves us to follow Ralph and Rory. They had faithfully promised De Vere they would go but a short distance from the car, and that promise they had meant to redeem. They found that the ground sloped downwards from the mouth of the crater, but there was no want of light, as yet at least, and thus not the slightest danger of being unable to find their way back, for were there not their footsteps in the snow to guide them? So onward they strolled, cheerfully enough, arm-in-arm, like brothers, and that was precisely how they felt towards each other.

The road--if I may say "road" where there was no road--was rough enough in all conscience, and at times it was difficult for them to prevent stumbling over a boulder.

"I wonder," said Rory, "how long these boulders have lain here, and I wonder what is beneath us princ.i.p.ally, and what those vast stalact.i.te pillars are formed of."

"'Bide a wee,' as the doctor says," replied Ralph; "don't hurry me with too many questions, and don't forget that though I am ever so much bigger and stronger than you, I don't think I am half so wise. But the boulders may have lain here for ages: those ghostly-looking pillars are doubtless ice-clad rocks, partly formed through the agency of fire, partly by water. I think we stand princ.i.p.ally on rocks and on ice, with, far, far down beneath us, fire."

"Dear, dear!" said Rory, talking very seriously, and with the perfect English he always used when speaking earnestly; "what a strange, mysterious place we are in! Do you know, Ralph, I am half afraid to go much farther."

"Silly boy!" said his companion, "how thoroughly Irish you are at heart--joy, tears, sunshine and fun, but, deep under all, a smouldering superst.i.tion."

"Just like the fires," added Rory, "that roll so far beneath us. But you know, Ray,"--in their most affectionate and friendly moods Ralph had come to be "Ray" to Rory, and Rory "Row" to Ralph--"you know, Ray, that the silence and gloom of this eerie place are enough to make any one superst.i.tious--any one, that is, whose soul isn't solid matter-of-fact."

"Well, it _is_ silent. But I say, Row--"

"Well, Ray?"

"Suppose we try to break it with a song? I daresay they have never heard much singing down here."

"Who?" cried Rory, staring fearfully into the darkness.

"Oh!" said Ralph, carelessly, "I didn't mean any one in particular.

Come, what shall we sing--'The wearing o' the green'?"

"No, Ray, no; that were far too melancholic, though I grant it is a lovely melody."

"Well, something Scotch, and stirring. The echoes of this cavern must be wonderful."

They were, indeed; and when Rory started off into that world-known but ever-popular song, "Auld lang syne," and Ralph chimed with deep and sonorous ba.s.s, the effect was really grand and beautiful, for a thousand voices seemed to fill the cavern. They heard the song even in the car of the balloon, and it caused Allan to remark, smilingly, for they had not yet been long gone, "Ralph and boy Rory seem to be enjoying themselves; but I trust they won't be long away."

Rory was quite lively again ere he reached the words--

"And we'll tak' a richt good-w.i.l.l.y waught For auld lang syne."