CHAPTER 2
Jack Odin descended into the cavern--or what Keefe had called the Hole--forless than a hundred yards before his strong flashlight sent its lancingbeam into a stone wall. At his feet was a crevice which went straight downas though it had been measured by a giant square. He got to his knees andlooked over. Playing his light around he detected a few ledges like narrowsteps far below. It was pitch-dark down there, and not even his stronglight could reach to the bottom. He tried tossing a few pebbles into it;listening he heard the faint rattle of their fall, but could not be surewhether they had landed on one of the ledges or had reached bottom.
Looking about him, he found a weathered bit of limestone that thrust itselfup like a small table. It did not look very substantial but it was his onlyhope. Odin had crammed his ammunition, food and canteen into a knapsack.Looping the rope through it and his rifle strap, he lowered them over untilhe felt the rope slacken as his gun and supplies rested upon the firstledge. Releasing one end of the rope he carefully drew it back.
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Now he knotted the rope about the stone and let the two lengths of it traildown toward the ledge. He had kept his flashlight which he thrust into hisbelt. One other thing, a little miner's cap and light, now came into use.It was warm down there, and as soon as the cap with its lighted lamp was onhis head, sweat began to pour down his neck. Suddenly he remembered a scenehe had witnessed one morning in West Virginia--so long ago that it shouldhave been forgotten. His car had stalled in a tiny town one evening. He hadslept in the only hotel, but had got up before daybreak so he could startan early search for a mechanic. Looking up toward the hills he had seen asilent procession of lights going upward to some unknown mine. There wassomething grotesque about those climbing lights; the identity of the menwas lost, and this was a crawling thing up there on the hillside. For amoment he felt himself feeling infinite pity for all the men everywhere whospent their days in the dark.
Then he laughed. Better feel a bit sorry for Jack Odin too. Getting readyto lower himself over a precipice, and not having the slightest idea whenhe would reach bottom. Or whether there was any bottom at all. Theblackness beat at the little light. A startled bat left its upside-downperch and fluttered against his face, clicking its teeth in warning.
Well, one could stay here and think until doomsday. So, with a shrug of hisbig shoulders, he got a firm grip on his doubled rope and slid over theedge. He went down and down until his shoulders ached. Once he got hisfeet down on an outcropping but dared not brace himself there for fear ofloosening his rope from its unsteady mooring above. Then, at last, he cameto the ledge with only a few feet of his doubled rope to spare.
After resting the little cap and lamp in a secure cranny he lay flat on hisstomach for a few minutes, gulping great draughts of air and trying to rubsome feeling back into his aching shoulders. Then he got up and startedlooking about for some anchorage. Some twenty feet away, he found a littlespur of rock.
The second ledge was negotiated in the same fashion as the first. Itwas scarcely four feet in width. Leaning over it, with his powerfulflashlight spraying a beam of light downward, he saw that there wereno more ledges between him and the floor of the crevice below. Noteven a single out-cropping. The wall was smooth and glassy as thoughat one time, for ages and ages, water had flown down it and had lefta glossy coating upon its face.
Moreover, when he awkwardly dangled his rope into the abyss with one hand,and kept his light upon it with the other, he found to his disappointmentthat not even a single length would reach to the dimly-seen floor below.
He sat there for a while, chewing at a bit of jerked beef, trying to gethis strength back, racking his brains for a plan. But he could think ofnothing except getting back to Opal. Then, at last, with a sigh and maybea curse at the things that happen and maybe a bit of a prayer, he began totie a loop, lasso fashion, in his rope. Finding another spur of rock becamea problem. This ledge was smooth. But in time he found one and drew hisloop tightly about it. Rolling the knapsack up into a ball and tying itsecurely, he threw it over the brink. Listening, he heard it land andbounce two or three times. The gun was slung over his shoulder. The miner'scap and lamp went back upon his head. He stuffed his pockets full ofammunition and slid over the edge. Once he nearly lost his grip on thesingle strand and slid downward for a yard or two with the rough coilstaking the hide off his palms. But he held on. And at last he was danglingat the end of the rope like a plumb-bob. Carefully he tightened his gripwith his right hand and let go with the left. His shoulder creaked, andfangs of pain struck at his wrist and elbow.
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But he hung on. Playing the flashlight below him, he saw that the floor ofthe crevice was still many yards away. It seemed to be of sand, but he wasnot sure. Limestone could be deceiving. Putting the light back in his belt,he began feeling along the wall. It was smooth. Finally, reaching down asfar as he could, he found a little hole scarcely large enough for one hand.There was no time left to consider. Getting his fingers into it he turnedloose of the rope and dropped down. It felt as though his left shoulder wastearing loose, but he held his grip. Kicking about he found a toe-hold inthe wall--and finally another grip for his hand.
In this way, Odin went down for nearly a dozen yards. But at last he couldfind neither a grip for his hands nor a rest for his feet. He did not carenow. The pain in his shoulders was becoming unbearable. Taking one greatgulp of air, he released his hold on the wall and thrust his body out intospace. The little light in his cap went out. Odin fell through darkness.He fell into soft sand, doubling up as his feet touched it. Odin rolledover and over, losing both flashlight and gun as he tumbled. Then he cameup against hard rock, with most of the wind knocked out of him, and laythere gasping, feeling about him with frantic hands for the light and thegun.
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The old terror of the dark swept over him as he clutched this way and thatand found nothing. Then he got a grip on himself and laughed at hisfears--remembering that he had matches in his pockets.
The spurt of a match showed him his miner's cap not five feet away. He musthave missed it by inches as he was clutching about in the dark. He lit itand soon found gun and flash.
Pointing his light upward, he could faintly see the knotted end of his ropeswinging back and forth up there against the precipice. It was his onlylink with the outside world, and it was far out of reach. He shrugged andplayed the light about the cavern into which he had ventured.
The walls of the crevice into which he had fallen were never over tenfeet apart and in spots were less than three. But the sandy bed slopednoticeably downward, so downward he went. Only pausing occasionally totake a mouthful of water from his canteen or eat a bite or two. Hiswatch had been broken in that last fall. He threw it away.
The air grew hotter. So hot at last that Odin had to pause more oftenand rest upon the sand. But it too was hot, as though it had never knownanything but this one temperature.
Stumbling along, his nostrils and chest burning, and something thumping inhis ears, he finally fell to his knees. Jack Odin lay there for a longtime. But the floor of the cavern still led downward. So, with nothing elseleft in his mind, he got to his knees and crawled on.
That last determination saved him. A cool breath of air struck him in theface. He toiled downward and was soon in a wider cavern that was so coldthat he was shivering. He rested again and then went on. The cold grewworse.
Odin came to a tunnel of ice. The faint smell of ammonia set him tocoughing. It was nearly as uncomfortable here as the heat had been a fewhours before. But he kept on. Finally, there was no ice left on the wallsabout him. The air grew warmer.
Soon the walls opened out until he could scarcely see them with hisflashlight. Playing it upward he could only get a faint reflection from thestalactites hundreds of feet away.
At length Odin came to a vast room where his light could reach neitherwalls no
r ceiling. But in the center of it was a tiny pool, rimmed by whitesand and a shell-like lip of limestone. He got to his knees and tested thewater. It was clean--but old and old and old. Filling his canteen, heopened his knapsack and prepared a hearty meal. He was dog-tired butbefore he slept he walked around the little pool. He had heard of fishbeing found in underground caverns--or even the fossils of things that hadonce been there. But here Odin found no sign of life. Nothing except tracesof the vast underground river that must have once swept through here longago.
It was a desolate feeling to stand there with his beam of light pushing thedark away. Alone in a place which apparently had never known the beat oflife before. And then Odin saw it--
A footprint. A small footprint which must have been made by someone whowore moccasins or sandals. He recognized it at once. He had seen hundredsof those footprints!
A Neebling had been there. How long before he did not know. But, certainly,Odin's theory had been right. The cavern led the way to Opal. Jack Odin wasnot sure how many times he ate and slept as he toiled his way downward. Thelong dead river had carved cunningly and beautifully upon the walls of thetunnel. And the dripping waters of centuries had fashioned pedestals,carvings, and statues that were beautiful indeed. Ordinarily he would havebeen interested in these, for Jack Odin was a man who loved beautifulthings, but now he had but one idea: To go on.
Occasionally he found more footprints. But always near the scatteredpools. The dwarfs must have kept against the walls and come out upon thesand only to quench their thirst. He wondered about that. And a possibleanswer came to him. They had been there without a light--feeling their way,almost--although he knew that they could see in the dark to a certainextent. He wondered at their courage. Here, with two lights, the staringdarkness and the silent empty spaces were making him shaky.
The descent became sharper. At times he slid down long grades of limestone.Now and then he came to sharp drops where little waterfalls had once been.But there was usually sand below and he was able to leap down without muchharm, other than a jolt or two.
But once he came to one of these drops that must have measured a hundredfeet. He found a few rocky steps where the little precipice met the walland clambered down, but it was rough going, and he had to make a jump forit at the last.
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Picking himself up and dusting the sand from his clothes he thought he sawa white gleam over against the wall. His light found a squat skeletonsitting there grimacing at him. He touched the skull and it fell to powder.Here was one of the dwarfs--a Neebling--but the bones did not belong tothis age; the poor fellow must have lain there for centuries.
Doctor Jack Odin was never able to get all of his medical training out ofhis mind. Examining the skeleton he found that both legs had been broken.Apparently, the little man had been climbing up or down the precipice Odinhad just negotiated and had slipped and fallen. His legs shattered, andinfection setting in, the Neebling had crawled against the wall to die.Odin could imagine him doing that last task silently. They were akin to theanimals that they loved, the Neeblings. They did not complain.
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Hours and hours later, as Odin toiled his way downward, he became aware ofa growing stench in the stale air. Even this was welcome, for he wasbecoming obsessed with the idea that the cavern had not changed since thelong-ago river had died, and that nothing in it could change. It was anodor of rottenness. Where there was decay, life had also been.
By the time he reached the next pool the putrescence which hung on thestale air was almost sickening. There he made his second discovery. Asaurian of some sort, with squat legs and long, fanged mouth, had diedthere. Half-decayed, it made a little phosphor glowing in the dark and itslong teeth flashed as he played a beam of light over it.
Noisome as it was, the sight of it made his heart quicken, for here was oneof the things of Opal. It must have crawled up here from that silent sea.Then a feeling of gloom and dread swept over him. What had happened downthere to make this thing leave its home and crawl here to die!
Odin went on and on, and the smell of the thing behind him slowly fadedfrom the air.
Then, as he rounded a corner, Odin blinked his eyes. Far ahead of him was ared glow. Taking a deep breath, he thought he smelled smoke. Or was itsulphur? He had never been able to get one grim possibility out of hismind. What if some of the fires and lava streams of inner earth should liebetween him and the world of Opal?
He had gone too far to turn back. So Odin went on cautiously. As he nearedthe red glow, he saw that it was only a campfire dying down to coals. Butfrom the darkness came such a clamoring of hisses, groans, and screechesthat he could feel goose-pimples popping out on his arms.
His rifle held a clamp for his flash. Making gun and light ready, headvanced cautiously, still unable to determine what was happening exceptthat one hell of a fight was going on. Then a coal burst into quick flameand he could see the struggle. A broad-shouldered man, stripped to thewaist, was fighting with one of the saurians. He had closed its long mouthwith a huge hand and was striking again and again at the white throat witha broad-bladed knife. The thing was screeching and clawing at the man'sarm. Its razored tail was lashing forward--and the man was dodging it as hekept backing in a circle and thrusting the head upward and backwards. Bothbrute and man were streaming blood. The man made no sound other than anoccasional savage grunt as his blade struck deep through the horny hide ofthe thing. The Saurian became wilder with each blow.
It was a long shot. But Jack Odin made it. Both man and reptile quickenedinto momentary stone as his light centered its beam upon them. Odin aimedand fired. The heavy bullet shattered the top of the saurian's head.
Then Odin was running forward, calling out in the language of Opal. Thebroad-shouldered man kicked the wriggling carcass of the thing out of theway and threw a few sticks upon the coals. They flamed up. The man sat downcalmly, though still gasping for breath, and began to wipe the blade of hisknife upon his thigh.
He had regained some of his breath when Odin reached him. Rubbing a gashedforearm and smiling as though such a meeting were an every-day occurrencehe called out cheerfully.
"Ho, Nors-King. I knew you would come. Sooner or later you would be hereand we would go hunting together."
The man was Gunnar, successor to Jul, and Chief of the Neeblings!
Hunters Out of Space Page 2
