Chapter X
The Dwellers in the Tomb
By now it was drawing towards sunset, so we made such
preparations as we could for the night. One of these was to
collect dry driftwood, of which an abundance lay upon the shore,
to serve us for firing, though unfortunately we had nothing that
we could cook for our meal.
While we were thus engaged we saw a canoe approaching the
table-rock and perceived that in it were the chief Marama and a
priest. After hovering about for a while they paddled the canoe
near enough to allow of conversation which, taking no notice of
their presence, we left it to them to begin.
"O, Friend-from-the-Sea," called Marama, addressing myself, "we
come to pray you and the Great Healer to return to us to be our
guests as before. The people are covered with darkness because of
the loss of your wisdom, and the sick cry aloud for the Healer;
indeed two of those whom he has cut with knives are dying."
"And what of the Bellower?" I asked, indicating Bastin.
"We should like to see him back also, Friend-from-the-Sea, that
we may sacrifice and eat him, who destroyed our god with fire and
caused the Healer to kill his priest."
"That is most unjust," exclaimed Bastin. "I deeply regret the
blood that was shed on the occasion, unnecessarily as I think."
"Then go and atone for it with your own," said Bickley, "and
everybody will be pleased."
Waving to them to be silent, I said:
"Are you mad, Marama, that you should ask us to return to
sojourn among people who tried to kill us, merely because the
Bellower caused fire to burn an image of wood and its head to fly
from its shoulders, just to show you that it had no power to hold
itself together, although you call it a god? Not so, we wash our
hands of you; we leave you to go your own way while we go ours,
till perchance in a day to come, after many misfortunes have
overtaken you, you creep about our feet and with prayers and
offerings beg us to return."
I paused to observe the effect of my words. It was excellent,
for both Marama and the priest wrung their hands and groaned.
Then I went on:
"Meanwhile we have something to tell you. We have entered the
cave where you said no man might set a foot, and have seen him
who sits within, the true god." (Here Bastin tried to interrupt,
but was suppressed by Bickley.)
They looked at each other in a frightened way and groaned more
loudly than before.
"He sends you a message, which, as he told us of your approach,
we came to the shore to deliver to you."
"How can you say that?" began Bastin, but was again violently
suppressed by Bickley.
"It is that he, the real Oro, rejoices that the false Oro,
whose face is copied from his face, has been destroyed. It is
that he commands you day by day to bring food in plenty and lay
it upon the Rock of Offerings, not forgetting a supply of fresh
fish from the sea, and with it all those things that are stored
in the house wherein we, the strangers from the sea, deigned to
dwell awhile until we left you because in your wickedness you
wished to murder us."
"And if we refuse--what then?" asked the priest, speaking for
the first time.
"Then Oro will send death and destruction upon you. Then your
food shall fail and you shall perish of sickness and want, and
the Oromatuas, the spirits of the great dead, shall haunt you in
your sleep, and Oro shall eat up your souls."
At these horrible threats both of them uttered a kind of wail,
after which, Marama asked:
"And if we consent, what then, Friend-from-the-Sea?"
"Then, perchance," I answered, "in some day to come we may
return to you, that I may give you of my wisdom and the Great
Healer may cure your sick and the Bellower may lead you through
his gate, and in his kindness make you to see with his eyes."
This last clause of my ultimatum did not seem to appeal to the
priest, who argued a while with Marama, though what he said we
could not hear. In the end he appeared to give way. At any rate
Marama called out that all should be done as we wished, and that
meanwhile they prayed us to intercede with Oro in the cave, and
to keep back the ghosts from haunting them, and to protect them
from misfortune. I replied that we would do our best, but could
guarantee nothing since their offence was very great.
Then, to show that the conversation was at an end, we walked
away with dignity, pushing Bastin in front of us, lest he should
spoil the effect by some of his ill-timed and often over-true
remarks.
"That's capital," said Bickley, when we were out of hearing.
"The enemy has capitulated. We can stop here as long as we like,
provisioned from the mainland, and if for any reason we wish to
leave, be sure of our line of retreat."
"I don't know what you call capital," exclaimed Bastin. "It
seems to me that all the lies which Arbuthnot has just told are
sufficient to bring a judgment upon us. Indeed, I think that I
will go back with Marama and explain the truth."
"I never before knew anybody who was so anxious to be cooked
and eaten," remarked Bickley. "Moreover, you are too late, for
the canoe is a hundred yards away by now, and you shan't have
ours. Remember the Pauline maxims, old fellow, which you are so
fond of quoting, and be all things to all men, and another that
is more modern, that when you are at Rome, you must do as the
Romans do; also a third, that necessity has no law, and for the
matter of that, a fourth, that all is fair in love and war."
"I am sure, Bickley, that Paul never meant his words to bear
the debased sense which you attribute to them--" began Bastin,
but at this point I hustled him off to light a fire--a process at
which I pointed out he had shown himself an expert.
We slept that night under the overhanging rock just to one side
of the cave, not in the mouth, because of the draught which drew
in and out of the great place. In that soft and balmy clime this
was no hardship, although we lacked blankets. And yet, tired
though I was, I could not rest as I should have done. Bastin
snored away contentedly, quite unaffected by his escape which to
him was merely an incident in the day's work; and so, too,
slumbered Bickley, except that he did not snore. But the
amazement and the mystery of all that we had discovered and of
all that might be left for us to discover, held me back from
sleep.
What did it mean? What could it mean? My nerves were taut as
harp strings and seemed to vibrate to the touch of invisible
fingers, although I could not interpret the music that they made.
Once or twice also I thought I heard actual music with my
physical ears, and that of a strange quality. Soft and low and
dreamful, it appeared to well from the recesses of the vast cave,
a wailing song in an unknown tongue from the lips of women, or of
a woman, multiplied mysteriously by echoes. This, however, must
have been pure fancy, since there was no singer there.
Presently I dozed off, to be awakened by the sudden sound of a
great fish leaping in the lake. I sat up and stared, fearing lest
it might be the splash of a paddle, for I could not put from my
mind the possibility of attack. All I saw, however, was the low
line of the distant shore, and above it the bright and setting
stars that heralded the coming of the sun. Then I woke the
others, and we washed and ate, since once the sun rose time would
be precious.
At length it appeared, splendid in a cloudless sky, and, as I
had hoped, directly opposite to the mouth of the cave. Taking our
candles and some stout pieces of driftwood which, with our
knives, we had shaped on the previous evening to serve us as
levers and rough shovels, we entered the cave. Bickley and I were
filled with excitement and hope of what we knew not, but Bastin
showed little enthusiasm for our quest. His heart was with his
half-converted savages beyond the lake, and of them, quite
rightly I have no doubt, he thought more than he did of all the
archaeological treasures in the whole earth. Still, he came,
bearing the blackened head of Oro with him which, with
unconscious humour, he had used as a pillow through the night
because, as he said, "it was after all softer than stone." Also,
I believe that in his heart he hoped that he might find an
opportunity of destroying the bigger and earlier edition of Oro
in the cave, before it was discovered by the natives who might
wish to make it an object of worship. Tommy came also, with
greater alacrity than I expected, since dogs do not as a rule
like dark places. When we reached the statue I learned the
reason; he remembered the smell he had detected at its base on
the previous day, which Bastin supposed to proceed from a rat,
and was anxious to continue his investigations.
We went straight to the statue, although Bickley passed the
half-buried machines with evident regret. As we had hoped, the
strong light of the rising sun fell upon it in a vivid ray,
revealing all its wondrous workmanship and the majesty--for no
other word describes it--of the somewhat terrifying countenance
that appeared above the wrappings of the shroud. Indeed, I was
convinced that originally this monument had been placed here in
order that on certain days of the year the sun might fall upon it
thus, when probably worshippers assembled to adore their hallowed
symbol. After all, this was common in ancient days: witness the
instance of the awful Three who sit in the deepest recesses of
the temple of Abu Simbel, on the Nile.
We gazed and gazed our fill, at least Bickley and I did, for
Bastin was occupied in making a careful comparison between the
head of his wooden Oro and that of the statue.
"There is no doubt that they are very much alike," he said.
"Why, whatever is that dog doing? I think it is going mad," and
he pointed to Tommy who was digging furiously at the base of the
lowest step, as at home I have seen him do at roots that
sheltered a rabbit.
Tommy's energy was so remarkable that at length it seriously
attracted our attention. Evidently he meant that it should do so,
for occasionally he sprang back to me barking, then returned and
sniffed and scratched. Bickley knelt down and smelt at the stone.
"It is an odd thing, Humphrey," he said, "but there is a
strange odour here, a very pleasant odour like that of
sandal-wood or attar of roses."
"I never heard of a rat that smelt like sandal-wood or attar of
roses," said Bastin. "Look out that it isn't a snake."
I knelt down beside Bickley, and in clearing away the deep dust
from what seemed to be the bottom of the step, which was perhaps
four feet in height, by accident thrust my amateur spade somewhat
strongly against its base where it rested upon the rocky floor.
Next moment a wonder came to pass. The whole massive rock
began to turn outwards as though upon a pivot! I saw it coming
and grabbed Bickley by the collar, dragging him back so that we
just rolled clear before the great block, which must have weighed
several tons, fell down and crushed us. Tommy saw it too, and
fled, though a little late, for the edge of the block caught the
tip of his tail and caused him to emit a most piercing howl. But
we did not think of Tommy and his woes; we did not think of our
own escape or of anything else because of the marvel that
appeared to us. Seated there upon the ground, after our backward
tumble, we could see into the space which lay behind the fallen
step, for there the light of the sun penetrated.
The first idea it gave me was that of the jewelled shrine of
some mediaeval saint which, by good fortune, had escaped the
plunderers; there are still such existing in the world. It shone
and glittered, apparently with gold and diamonds, although, as a
matter of fact, there were no diamonds, nor was it gold which
gleamed, but some ancient metal, or rather amalgam, which is now
lost to the world, the same that was used in the tubes of the
air-machines. I think that it contained gold, but I do not know.
At any rate, it was equally lasting and even more beautiful,
though lighter in colour.
For the rest this adorned recess which resembled that of a
large funeral vault, occupying the whole space beneath the base
of the statue that was supported on its arch, was empty save for
two flashing objects that lay side by side but with nearly the
whole width of the vault between them.
I pointed at them to Bickley with my finger, for really I could
not speak.
"Coffins, by Jove!" he whispered. "Glass or crystal coffins and
people in them. Come on!"
A few seconds later we were crawling into that vault while
Bastin, still nursing the head of Oro as though it were a baby,
stood confused outside muttering something about desecrating
hallowed graves.
Just as we reached the interior, owing to the heightening of
the sun, the light passed away, leaving us in a kind of twilight.
Bickley produced carriage candles from his pocket and fumbled for
matches. While he was doing so I noticed two things--firstly,
that the place really did smell like a scent-shop, and, secondly,
that the coffins seemed to glow with a kind of phosphorescent
light of their own, not very strong, but sufficient to reveal
their outlines in the gloom. Then the candles burnt up and we
saw.
Within the coffin that stood on our left hand as we entered,
for this crystal was as transparent as plate glass, lay a most
wonderful old man, clad in a gleaming, embroidered robe. His long
hair, which was parted in the middle, as we could see beneath the
edge of the pearl-sewn and broidered cap he wore, also his beard
were snowy white. The man was tall, at least six feet four inches
in height, and rather spare. His hands were long and thin, very
delicately made, as were his sandalled feet.
But it was his face that fixed our gaze, for it was marvelous,
like the face of a god, and, as we noticed at once, with some
resemblance to that of the statue above. Thus the brow was broad
and massive, the nose straight and long, the mouth stern and
clear-cut, while the cheekbones were rather high, and the
eyebrows arched. Such are the characteristics of many handsome
old men of good blood, and as the mummies of Seti and others show
us, such they have been for thousands of years. Only this man
differed from all others because of the fearful dignity stamped
upon his features. Looking at him I began to think at once of the
prophet Elijah as he must have appeared rising to heaven,
enhanced by the more earthly glory of Solomon, for although the
appearance of these patriarchs is unknown, of them one conceives
ideas. Only it seemed probable that Elijah may have looked more
benign. Here there was no benignity, only terrible force and
infinite wisdom.
Contemplating him I shivered a little and felt thankful that he
was dead. For to tell the truth I was afraid of that awesome
countenance which, I should add, was of the whiteness of paper,
although the cheeks still showed tinges of colour, so perfect was
the preservation of the corpse.
I was still gazing at it when Bickley said in a voice of
amazement:
"I say, look here, in the other coffin."
I turned, looked, and nearly collapsed on the floor of the
vault, since beauty can sometimes strike us like a blow. Oh!
there before me lay all loveliness, such loveliness that there
burst from my lips an involuntary cry:
"Alas! that she should be dead!"
A young woman, I supposed, at least she looked young, perhaps
five or six and twenty years of age, or so I judged. There she
lay, her tall and delicate shape half hidden in masses of
rich-hued hair in colour of a ruddy blackness. I know not how
else to describe it, since never have I seen any of the same
tint. Moreover, it shone with a life of its own as though it had
been dusted with gold. From between the masses of this hair
appeared a face which I can only call divine. There was every
beauty that woman can boast, from the curving eyelashes of
extraordinary length to the sweet and human mouth. To these
charms also were added a wondrous smile and an air of kind
dignity, very different from the fierce pride stamped upon the
countenance of the old man who was her companion in death.
She was clothed in some close-fitting robe of white broidered
with gold; pearls were about her neck, lying far down upon the
perfect bosom, a girdle of gold and shining gems encircled her
slender waist, and on her little feet were sandals fastened with
red stones like rubies. In truth, she was a splendid creature,
and yet, I know not how, her beauty suggested more of the spirit
than of the flesh. Indeed, in a way, it was unearthly. My senses
were smitten, it pulled at my heart-strings, and yet its
unutterable strangeness seemed to awake memories within me,
though of what I could not tell. A wild fancy came to me that I
must have known this heavenly creature in some past life.
By now Bastin had joined us, and, attracted by my exclamation
and by the attitude of Bickley, who was staring down at the
coffin with a fixed look upon his face, not unlike that of a
pointer when he scents game, he began to contemplate the wonder
within it in his slow way.
"Well, I never!" he said. "Do you think the Glittering Lady in
there is human?"
"The Glittering Lady is dead, but I suppose that she was human
in her life," I answered in an awed whisper.
"Of course she is dead, otherwise she would not be in that
glass coffin. I think I should like to read the Burial Service
over her, which I daresay was never done when she was put in
there."
"How do you know she is dead?" asked Bickley in a sharp voice
and speaking for the first time. "I have seen hundreds of
corpses, and mummies too, but never any that looked like these."
I stared at him. It was strange to hear Bickley, the scoffer at
miracles, suggesting that this greatest of all miracles might be
possible.
"They must have been here a long time," I said, "for although
human, they are not, I think, of any people known to the world
to-day; their dress, everything, shows it, though perhaps
thousands of years ago--" and I stopped.
"Quite so," answered Bickley; "I agree. That is why I suggest
that they may have belonged to a race who knew what we do not,
namely, how to suspend animation for great periods of time."
I said no more, nor did Bastin, who was now engaged in studying
the old man, and for once, wonderstruck and overcome. Bickley,
however, took one of the candles and began to make a close
examination of the coffins. So did Tommy, who sniffed along the
join of that of the Glittering Lady until his nose reached a
certain spot, where it remained, while his black tail began to
wag in a delighted fashion. Bickley pushed him away and
investigated.
"As I thought," he said--"air-holes. See!"
I looked, and there, bored through the crystal of the coffin in
a line with the face of its occupant, were a number of little
holes that either by accident or design outlined the shape of a
human mouth.
"They are not airtight," murmured Bickley; "and if air can
enter, how can dead flesh remain like that for ages?"
Then he continued his search upon the other side.
"The lid of this coffin works on hinges," he said. "Here they
are, fashioned of the crystal itself. A living person within
could have pulled it down before the senses departed."
"No," I answered; "for look, here is a crystal bolt at the end
and it is shot from without."
This puzzled him; then as though struck by an idea, he began to
examine the other coffin.
"I've got it!" he exclaimed presently. "The old god in here"
(somehow we all thought of this old man as not quite normal)
"shut down the Glittering Lady's coffin and bolted it. His own is
not bolted, although the bolt exists in the same place. He just
got in and pulled down the lid. Oh! what nonsense I am talking--
for how can such things be? Let us get out and think."
So we crept from the sepulchre in which the perfumed air had
begun to oppress us and sat ourselves. down upon the floor of the
cave, where for a while we remained silent.
"I am very thirsty," said Bastin presently. "Those smells seem
to have dried me up. I am going to get some tea--I mean water, as
unfortunately there is no tea," and he set off towards the mouth
of the cave.
We followed him, I don't quite know why, except that we wished
to breathe freely outside, also we knew that the sepulchre and
its contents would be as safe as they had been for--well, how
long?
It proved to be a beautiful morning outside. We walked up and
down enjoying it sub-consciously, for really our--that is
Bickley's and my own--intelligences were concentrated on that
sepulchre and its contents. Where Bastin's may have been I do not
know, perhaps in a visionary teapot, since I was sure that it
would take him a day or two to appreciate the significance of our
discoveries. At any rate, he wandered off, making no remarks
about them, to drink water, I suppose.
Presently he began to shout to us from the end of the
table-rock and we went to see the reason of his noise. It proved
to be very satisfactory, for while we were in the cave the
Orofenans had brought absolutely everything belonging to us,
together with a large supply of food from the main island. Not a
single article was missing; even our books, a can with the bottom
out, and the broken pieces of a little pocket mirror had been
religiously transported, and with these a few articles that had
been stolen from us, notably my pocket-knife. Evidently a great
taboo had been laid upon all our possessions. They were now
carefully arranged in one of the grooves of the rock that Bickley
supposed had been made by the wheels of aeroplanes, which was why
we had not seen them at once.
Each of us rushed for what we desired most--Bastin for one of
the canisters of tea, I for my diaries, and Bickley for his chest
of instruments and medicines. These were removed to the mouth of
the cave, and after them the other things and the food; also a
bell tent and some camp furniture that we had brought from the
ship. Then Bastin made some tea of which he drank four large
pannikins, having first said grace over it with unwonted fervour.
Nor did we disdain our share of the beverage, although Bickley
preferred cocoa and I coffee. Cocoa and coffee we had no time to
make then, and in view of that sepulchre in the cave, what had we
to do with cocoa and coffee?
So Bickley and I said to each other, and yet presently he
changed his mind and in a special metal machine carefully made
some extremely strong black coffee which he poured into a thermos
flask, previously warmed with hot water, adding thereto about a
claret glass of brandy. Also he extracted certain drugs from his
medicine-chest, and with them, as I noted, a hypodermic syringe,
which he first boiled in a kettle and then shut up in a little
tube with a glass stopper.
These preparations finished, he called to Tommy to give him the
scraps of our meal. But there was no Tommy. The dog was missing,
and though we hunted everywhere we could not find him. Finally we
concluded that he had wandered off down the beach on business of
his own and would return in due course. We could not bother about
Tommy just then.
After making some further preparations and fidgeting about a
little, Bickley announced that as we had now some proper paraffin
lamps of the powerful sort which are known as "hurricane," he
proposed by their aid to carry out further examinations in the
cave.
"I think I shall stop where I am," said Bastin, helping himself
from the kettle to a fifth pannikin of tea. "Those corpses are
very interesting, but I don't see any use in staring at them
again at present. One can always do that at any time. I have
missed Marama once already by being away in that cave, and I have
a lot to say to him about my people; I don't want to be absent in
case he should return."
"To wash up the things, I suppose," said Bickley with a sniff;
"or perhaps to eat the tea-leaves."
"Well, as a matter of fact, I have noticed that these natives
have a peculiar taste for tea-leaves. I think they believe them
to be a medicine, but I don't suppose they would come so far for
them, though perhaps they might in the hope of getting the head
of Oro. Anyhow, I am going to stop here."
"Pray do," said Bickley. "Are you ready, Humphrey?"
I nodded, and he handed to me a felt-covered flask of the non-
conducting kind, filled with boiling water, a tin of preserved
milk, and a little bottle of meat extract of a most concentrated
sort. Then, having lit two of the hurricane lamps and seen that
they were full of oil, we started back up the cave.
