The City of No Escape E-Book

T.C. Bridges

• Herausgeber: Ktoczyta.pl
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

The bottom of the gorge was filled with old lava, black and fragile, like bottle glass, but the rocks that endlessly rose on both sides on an African night were made of limestone. Everything was still like death. Even the jackal did not cry under the stars. For a while no sound was heard except for the gentle shuffling of Nick’s legs as he slowly descended the steep slope. The darkness was terribly frightening for others, but Nick knew the way, and they unconditionally trusted him.

Leseprobe

Contents

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER I

NICK PREST stopped, gazed at the left-hand cliff, went on a few paces and stopped again. “This is it,” he whispered as he turned, and the other three crept after him, silent as ghosts.

The bottom of the gorge was filled with old lava, black and brittle as bottle glass, but the cliffs which went up endlessly on either side into the African night were of limestone. All was still as death. Not even a jackal cried beneath the stars.

A low arch gaped in the cliff face, and Nick passed in under it.

“Wait! No lights yet,” came back his voice out of the velvet blackness. “Be careful. It’s steep.”

For a while there was no sound except the soft shuffling of Nick’s feet as he moved slowly down a steep slope. The darkness was horribly daunting to the others, but Nick knew the way and they trusted him implicitly.

A beam of white light broke out from Nick’s electric torch, and fell upon the rock floor of a wide passage which sloped steadily away into the bowels of the earth.

“All right so far,” said Nick. “We are well below the level of the cave mouth. No light can show outside.”

“You’re sure scared of Bastin, Nick,” remarked Mort Bradby, rather scornfully.

“I am,” Nick answered curtly. “We’ve dodged the fellow so far, but if he had the least suspicion that we were here I wouldn’t give two pins for our lives. What do you say, Jeremy?”

“I say you are right,” said Jeremy Stretton, whose reddish hair and clear skin contrasted strongly with Nick’s dark leanness.

“Yo’ bet Marse Nick am right,” added the last of the four, a little nigger, ugly as a monkey, but as strong and as active.

Mort shut up and they went on. It was easy going, for the floor was wide and level. No–not quite level, for the centre was slightly hollowed.

Jeremy noticed this and spoke to Nick. Nick nodded. “Feet, Jeremy. That hollow has been made by the tread of feet, and if I am not mistaken their owners were dust a few thousand years before we were born.”

The passage sloped steadily, and soon its invaders were far below the level of the old lava floor which lay solid in the gorge outside.

Nick’s torchlight flung out gleams of colour from the walls. Mort saw and stopped. “I say, look at those pictures,” he exclaimed.

“Yes, there is the dog’s head of Anup, and the beaked face of Thoth,” said Nick. “By the look of it that blighter Bastin is on the track of something big.”

“Can’t we stop and look at them?” begged Mort. “Where there’s paintings there’s likely other things–things dad would be mighty pleased to have.”

“We have no time,” Nick answered. “Bastin and Kasim went much farther than this. What really matters must be a long way in, behind the big fall.”

A mass of broken rock showed, blocking half the passage. Above was the break in the roof from which the stuff had fallen.

“Earthquake,” commented Nick, in his brief way. “Probably the same time as the fissure eruption which flung out the lava and buried all Feshan.”

Beyond was a second fall, but it was easily passed, and they had travelled nearly half a mile into the heart of the hillside before they reached a third fall larger than the other two. Part of the wall had broken away, leaving a deep hole in the left side of the gallery.

Nick stopped. “That’s where I hid last night,” he said. “The big fall is only about fifty yards farther on. It was that which stopped them.”

“You looked at it?” asked Jeremy.

“Yes, after Bastin and Kasim had gone. It blocks the whole passage.”

Mort cut in. “Where did they get the jade thing they showed to old Durham?”

“I can’t say for certain. They may have found it in here, or likely as not Bastin brought it with him to humbug the Professor.”

“But why would Bastin want to fool him like that?” demanded Mort.

“Because he’s out for loot,” replied Nick. “He means to go the whole hog. I heard enough last night to make me certain of that.”

Mort stared. “I don’t get you, Nick. Why should Bastin try monkey tricks? Dad promised to go equal shares with him on all finds, and he’s paying ten thousand for showing us the way to Feshan.”

“Ten thousand cuts no ice with Bastin, Mort. The man thinks in millions. He is on the track of something big. I don’t know whether or not Kasim put him up to it, but I’m as sure of what I say as I am that this beast has simply been using us to get here.”

Jeremy whistled softly. “You go the whole hog, old man,” he remarked.

“Don’t you believe me?” demanded Nick hotly.

Jeremy shrugged his great shoulders. “I dare say you’re right. Myself, I can’t stick Bastin at any price. I never could. And Kasim is a crook. You’ve only to see him once to swear to that.”

Mort looked thoroughly unhappy.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked.

“Have a look at the big fall and see if it is possible to get by,” Nick answered. “From what I overheard last night while I was shadowing those two blighters, the secret, whatever it is, lies beyond.”

“You didn’t gather what it was then?” asked Jeremy.

“No. Neither of them said much. But I’m certain it was something big, for they were so careful to keep it dark. You heard Bastin tell the Professor that the piece of jade came from a cave north of the Camp? And this is two miles in the opposite direction.”

As Nick had said, the big fall completely blocked the passage, and the rocks of which it was composed were so huge that at first sight it seemed hopeless to dream of going farther.

Nick handed Jeremy the torch. “Keep it on me as I climb,” he said, and started up the sloping face of the fall. A great rock loosened by his weight came thundering down, and the others had to jump for their lives.

“Look out, Nick!” cried Jeremy, in a scared voice.

“I am all right,” came back Nick’s voice; and, as the dust cleared, there he was at the top of the fall close against the roof of the gallery.

He struck a match and held it close to the roof. The others distinctly saw the little flame flicker.

Nick turned. “Air is coming through,” he said. “I don’t think there is much breadth of stuff between me and the other side. If you will come up, Jeremy, between us we might clear a way.”

“How’s the roof?” asked Jeremy.

“Solid as the floor, by the look of it. I don’t think there is any risk of a fresh fall.”

Jeremy handed the torch to Mort and climbed. The stones were more firmly locked than he had expected, and he reached Nick’s side without disturbing any.

“Feel the draught?” asked Nick.

“I feel it all right,” Jeremy told him, “but it’s going to be a job to make a passage big enough for us to get through. At present there’s no room for anything larger than a rat.”

As Jeremy said, the prospects of getting past the fall seemed extremely slender, but Nick knew exactly what he was about. He had been trained as a mining engineer, and had had plenty of experience of underground work. He seemed to know exactly what stones could be moved without disturbing others. Each as he picked it out he handed to Jeremy, who, in turn, dropped it back down the slope behind him.

The heat was fearful, but luckily there was not much dust, and they got on faster than had at first seemed possible. Some of the smaller stones Nick lifted sideways, building them up against the roof. It was a dangerous job, but both the workers were too busy to give much thought to that.

All of a sudden there was a crackle and a roar. Nick fell forward, and Jeremy grabbed him just in time to save him from going headlong down the far slope.

“We’ve done it, Jeremy,” said Nick. “We’re through. Tell the others to come.”

A minute later and they were all four on the level floor on the far side of the barrier.

“We’re one up on Bastin,” exclaimed Mort triumphantly.

Nick looked back. “Don’t boast,” he said warningly. “As it is I’ve half a mind to stop that hole before we go farther.”

“You surely don’t think the fellow will follow us?” said Mort. “And we haven’t too much time,” he added, glancing at his wrist watch. “It’s past midnight.”

“We’ll chance it then,” said Nick. “Come on. Hullo!” he exclaimed, “there’s a rare echo. The roof must be higher.”

As he spoke he raised his torch, and the white beam cutting the darkness showed that they had left the passage and were in a cavern of such dimensions that the electric ray was not strong enough to reach the far wall.

“Is this what Bastin was looking for?” Mort asked eagerly.

“That’s what we have to find out,” Nick told him. “Let us see what we can discover.”

The cave itself was far too large to be artificial, yet the floor had evidently been levelled by the hand of man. So far as Nick’s light went the place seemed to slope towards the centre like a monstrous saucer.

As they advanced, suddenly the lighted area gave way to an intense blackness.

“Looks like a hole,” Nick murmured, and quickened his pace. Next moment all four pulled up short at the edge of a tremendous pit.

“It’s suah some hole!” gasped Jake in an awed tone as he gazed down into the monstrous depths. He was right. The pit resembled a mine shaft, only that it was about twenty times the size of the biggest ever dug. It must have been fifty feet across with rock sides dropping sheer into absolute blackness.

Nick, who had nerves of cast steel, stood upon the extreme edge, pointing his light downwards. Then suddenly he grasped Jeremy by the arm. “Look!” he ordered. “Look, Jeremy. Do you see it? Don’t be scared. I will hold you.”

For a moment Jeremy’s very brain reeled, but presently his senses steadied and he saw what Nick was pointing at.

“A ledge,” he said. “A ledge sticking out from the side.”

“A landing,” corrected Nick with a little thrill in his voice. “And stairs. You see them?”

“Stairs,” repeated Jeremy. “Yes, I see them.”

They all saw them. Massive stone steps circling down into the depths until they passed clear beyond the uttermost ray of the torch.

“Thirty feet,” said Nick, with his eyes fixed upon the platform. “Thirty feet–no more. Jake, give me the rope.”

“You’re going down?” asked Mort in a half-scared voice.

Nick did not even trouble to answer. He was uncoiling the length of strong Alpine rope which Jake had handed him.

“I got de bar, Marse Nick,” said Jake, and took a short steel bar from the bundle he had been carrying on his back. “And heah’s a mighty good place to fix it,” he went on, pointing to a narrow crack in the rock close to the edge of the pit.

Nick nodded. “Yes, that is safer than letting you chaps hold it,” he said, and with his quick, clever fingers he wedged the bar in the crack and fastened one end of the rope to it. He flung the loose end over and it fell exactly on the wide ledge below.

“You coining with me, Jeremy?” he asked.

“You bet I am,” Jeremy answered. “Can’t we all go?”

“No. One had better stay and watch the rope. You, Mort, you stay. Your head isn’t as good as mine and Jeremy’s.”

Mort looked relieved. “I’ll stay,” he said, “but can’t Jake stay with me?”

“Yes, you and Jake stay. You’ve got candles.”

Jake was anything but pleased. He was as keen as Nick himself to see what was at the bottom of this amazing pit. But Nick was his boss, the person he admired more than anyone else on earth, and he did not say a word. Only his face showed what he was feeling.

Nick slipped over the edge and slid rapidly down the rope, and as soon as he was safe on the platform Jeremy followed. Then Nick started down the steps.

Not steps, for they were great shallow stairs, each nearly two feet in width and cut with amazing accuracy out of the solid rock. Though somewhat worn in the centre, they were sound and solid as the day on which they were made, heaven knows how many centuries ago, and down them Nick and Jeremy raced at top speed.

Ten times they swung round the great circle of the shaft and then they reached a second landing. Nick pointed his torch downwards over the unfenced edge of cut stone.

“No bottom yet, Jeremy,” he said.

Jeremy looked upwards at the tiny circle of dim light which was all that could be seen of Mort’s candle.

“And we are all of three hundred feet below the cave floor,” he answered. “Nick, this thing is so big it begins to scare me.”

“It is big,” agreed Nick, “but, after all, we have coal pits a mile deep.”

“But not with shafts like this. It doesn’t seem credible that man could ever have made such a hole.”

“He didn’t,” replied Nick curtly. “This is or was a natural shaft, but it has been enlarged and straightened out by men. Still, as you say, it must have taken a bit of doing. Are you coming on?”

Down they went, their footsteps sending ghostly echoes whispering up and down the tremendous stone funnel. And when they stepped again on the next landing the candle light above had dwindled to a mere dot. Yet still the great flight swung endlessly downwards into the unknown.

Jeremy looked grave. “Nick,” he said. “It will take us the dickens of a time to get back, and I don’t quite like leaving those two alone up there. Mort’s none too steady. He might get the wind up and do something silly.”

“Jake won’t let him,” Nick answered briefly. “Do you want to go up again?”

“Not I. I’m crazy to see what’s at the bottom of this hole. If it’s on the same scale as the way down, it ought to be something worth seeing.”

“If we don’t take our chance now, goodness knows when we shall get another,” said Nick. “You can bet your boots that Bastin will be here to-morrow.”

“All right. Let us go on,” said Jeremy, but before either of them moved there came a sound from above, a terrified shout which boomed hollow as if through a giant speaking-tube: “Nick–Nick–where are you?”

“Told you so,” said Jeremy. “Mort’s scared.”

“Young ass!” growled Nick. Then raising his voice: “It’s all right. We’re quite safe. Wait for us.”

“Come back! Come back!” came the voice again, and now there was no doubt about it. Mort was horribly frightened.

Nick muttered something under his breath. “We shall have to go back, Jeremy,” he said angrily. “All right, Mort,” he shouted, “we are coming.”

He and Jeremy started back, but going up was not so easy as coming down, and they were both panting when they reached the first landing. And, as they stopped to recover breath, a new sound reached their ears. Footsteps were coming racing down from above.

Nick stiffened. “Crumbs, Jeremy, the young fool has come down the rope!”

“Both of them,” added Jeremy. “By George, Mort must have got a proper scare before he trusted himself over the edge. Yes, there they are–see their light. We may as well wait here for them.”

The light came circling down the shaft, the footsteps rang closer and closer, and presently Mort, closely followed by Jake, arrived on the landing.

His face was white and streaming with perspiration and his eyes almost bulging from his head.

“What is the matter?” demanded Nick. “What crazy trick is this?”

“Crazy!” gasped Mort. “I am–nearly. Oh, if you’d seen them!”

“Seen what?”

“The ghosts. Two of the old Egyptians,” said Mort, shivering.

Nick stared at him. “Ghosts,” he repeated scornfully. “Did you go to sleep and dream them?”

“Dream!” cried Mort angrily. “They were ghosts, I tell you. Ask Jake. He saw them.”

“Marse Mort am right,” said Jake. The little negro’s face had a nasty grey tinge and his eyes were goggling. “It’s true, Marse Nick. Dey was ‘hants,’ and dey come up behind us quiet as death. We jest shinned down dat rope quick as light. We’d suah hab been dead if we hadn’t.”

Nick turned to Jeremy. “Some monkey business here,” he said sternly. “We must go back at once and see what is up.”

He started as he spoke. Jake caught hold of him. The little fellow was in an extremity of terror. “Do’ ant yo’ go, Marse Nick. Dey’ll sure hab you if you goes up dar.”

Nick was very angry, but he kept his temper. “We can’t stay down here, Jake,” he said quietly. “It is better to face ghosts than starvation. Don’t be afraid. I will see that you come to no harm.”

The words were hardly out of his mouth before from above came a laugh, a laugh so hollow, so cruel-sounding that it made even Nick shiver a little. Next moment something came whirling down past them and shot out of sight into the black abyss.

But not before both Nick and Jeremy had seen it.

“The rope!” gasped Jeremy. “That was our rope, Nick.”

“I saw it,” said Nick, and that was all.

For several seconds no one spoke. They stood gazing down into the blackness into which their one link with the upper world had vanished.

Nick broke the silence. “Bastin,” he said briefly. “It can’t be anyone else.”

Mort looked at him with horrified eyes. “You mean that it was Bastin and Kasim dressed up as ghosts?”

“I have not a doubt of it,” replied Nick.

“B–but what are we going to do now?” gasped Mort. “How can we get back?”

“We can’t,” said Nick quietly. “Not by the way we came, at any rate. Our only chance is to find some other way out.”

Mort staggered and leaned against the wall. His face was like paper. “And it’s my fault,” he said hoarsely.

Nick laid a kindly hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Buck up, Mort. We are not blaming you. I know that if you had not thought they were ghosts you would have kept your end up.”

He turned to Jeremy. “We had better go on down, Jeremy. What do you think?”

“It is the only thing to do,” agreed Jeremy. “How much water have we got, Nick?”

Nick shook his canteen. “Very little. We drank most of it after getting through that fall.”

They compared notes, and found that between them they had less than a pint of water. Jeremy had a small packet of chocolate in his pocket, and that was the sum total of their provisions. One pistol and a box of fifty cartridges, a packet of candles, their clasp knives and matches–that was their entire outfit.

Nick turned. “I’ll take the torch,” he said. “Don’t follow too closely, for it is quite on the cards that Bastin may drop rocks on us–if he can find them.”

But no rocks fell, nor was there any further sign or sound from above as the four went circling downwards into the depths. The way seemed endless, and now there was no friendly gleam overhead to show how far they had come. The stairs were firm and solid as ever, and at regular intervals came the broad landings.

On one of these Nick stopped. “Jeremy,” he said, “does anything strike you particularly?”

“Yes, that the air is quite fresh.”

“Quite so, but there is something else. The temperature is not rising as it should. The rule is roughly one degree for each sixty feet. We are nearly a thousand feet below the cave floor and there is no increase in heat.”

“What do you make of it?” asked Jeremy.

“Can’t say, I’m sure. But I’ll allow it beats me completely.”

“How much farther do you reckon we have to go?” asked Mort.

“I know no more than you,” Nick answered. “And there is not so much as a loose stone that we can drop.”

“Heah’s a bit ob rock, boss,” said Jake, whose sharp eyes had spotted a small lump of stone half buried in the fine dust which lay thick on the landing.

Nick dropped it over, and all listened intently. But the seconds passed and there was no sound.

Mort shivered. “Say, I don’t reckon there is any bottom,” he said. “This hole goes plump down to the centre of the world.”

“Then that’s where we have to go,” said Nick rather grimly. “Come on, all of you.”

Their legs were aching with the endless steps, and the intensely dry air had made them all cruelly thirsty. But no one suggested a drink.