In the Stygian darkness the first one he struck almost blinded him, but as his eyes grew accustomed to the light, it revealed his position clearly. He was lying in a steeply sloping tunnel-shaped cave about five feet high. From the dog's-leg bend in which he lay, and which apparently had broken his fall, he could see it stretching away upwards and beyond him.
Painfully he got to his feet and examined himself, and it was with heartfelt relief that he discovered that no bones were broken. He was badly bruised, as was only to be expected, and his finger-tips were torn and bleeding. There was a nasty patch of damp hair just above his forehead, where his head must have come in contact with the rock at the bend, but it did not seem to be a very serious matter. He struck another match, shook the worst of the rubbish from his clothes, and was just preparing to try to work his way back up the slope when the silence was broken by a vibrant hum that started on a low note, climbed a little, and then remained constant. He knew what it was. Somewhere not far away a power electric motor had been started.
For some moments he stood still, listening, staring down into the darkness of the passage from which the sound was coming. Was it imagination, or was there a faint luminous glow at the far end? There seemed to be – something. ' This path I'm on must lead to the works,' he mused. 'Whether it is natural or artificial, there is no doubt of that. Maybe I'm in some old workings. If they lead into the big power-station . . . I might as well have a look anyway, so that I shall know what I've got to face if I can't get back to the top of the shaft.'
Slowly, feeling his way by the wall, he set off down the cave. Once a streak of blue light appeared at his side, and he started, only to smile a moment later as he realized that the cause was part of the same phenomenon that illuminated the peak outside. He saw the same thing several times as he went on, and presently found that the distant gleam of light that had first attracted his attention was but another, although a much brighter, example of it.
The noise of the motor was now much louder, and it became increasingly evident that it was not far away, so he determined that, having come so far, he would see the matter through. He had been descending a steep gradient all the time, but the incline now became almost precipitous, so he sat
down and allowed himself to slide forward on an imaginary toboggan, regulating his progress by pressure on the floor.
Somewhat to his surprise, the cave suddenly widened out, and finally emerged into one of those cathedral-like chambers that are a common feature in limestone caves.
Enormous stalactites and stalagmites hung from the ceiling and rose up from the floor, but these were not the common form. They were faintly luminous, and shed an unearthly radiance over the whole cavern, giving Biggles the impression that he had entered one of those fearsome infernos of legend and fable. That the place was of natural and not artificial formation was apparent at once; no human being could have imagined, much less carved, the intricate lace-like tracery that covered the walls and ceiling.
He broke the top off one of the smaller stalagmites, broke it again, examined the pieces closely, and then dropped them into his pocket. 'Queer stuff,' he mused. 'I suppose it must be radium, although I thought radium was only found in pitchblende. Is it – oh, I don't know,' he concluded impatiently; and taking care to mark down the position of the tunnel from which he had emerged, he hurried across the spectral chamber in the direction of the noise that now filled the air.
Twice he walked completely round the cave looking for a continuation of the tunnel, and was about to abandon the quest, thinking that he had been mistaken in his assumption that there was one, when a noise brought his heart into his mouth. It was the unmistakable sound of a hammer striking on rock not far away, and it came from a twisted skein of stalagmites in the far corner.
Revolver in hand, he made his way slowly towards the place, and feeling his way through a labyrinth of glowing columns, found himself gazing upon a scene so strange, so
utterly out of place, that although he had been half prepared, he was lost in the wonder of it. About forty feet below, and covering an area of more than an acre, was the most incredible power-station he had ever seen. An engine of the dynamo type was running, and into a bell-shaped receptacle above it a number of naked Chungs were throwing small pieces of what seemed to be white-hot metal, which they were hammering out of a pile of rock that lay beside them. This was being brought to the spot by other Chungs who were working in a gallery almost at his own level. Beyond the dynamo, and separated from it by a high metal grille, were rows of what appeared to be enormous accumulators, or storage batteries; made of yellow glass, they were so large that they dwarfed a man who was standing beside them.
For some time Biggles stood and watched the amazing scene, and then, remembering the anxiety the others must be feeling on his account, he turned away. As he did so, he trod on a loose stone. It turned under his foot and, to save himself from falling, he clutched wildly at a long fluted stalagmite that rose up like an ivory column towards the ceiling. It snapped like a carrot and came down with a crash, breaking several others in its fall, and he went down under a pile of debris. Aghast at the noise he had made, he scrambled to his feet and threw a swift look at the workers to see if he had been heard. One glance was enough. The Chungs had stopped work and, in various attitudes of surprise, were staring at the spot. As his head came into view there was a shrill yelp of alarm, and a general rush was made in his direction.
He had dropped his revolver in the fall, and now sought it with frantic haste, but apparently it had been buried under the fragments of rock, for there was no sign of it.
The Chungs were now almost on him, so he could tarry no longer, and cursing himself for his stupidity, he was compelled to abandon it and made a dash at the labyrinth. In his haste he took the wrong turning; it ended in a cul-de-sac, and by the time he had discovered his mistake, the leading Chung, a burly fellow, was within a yard of him with hammer raised ready to strike.
Biggles felt the old fighting lust surge through him and his lips came together in a hard line. With a deft movement he snapped the top of a stalagmite, and using both hands, brought it crashing down on the man's head. The three-foot length of radium-impregnated limestone burst like a rocket into a shower of pale blue sparks, and the Chung went down like a log. Still clutching the short thick length of the improvised weapon that remained in his hand, he leapt over his fallen adversary and dashed down the right corridor, just as the main body of Chungs swept into the far end of the labyrinth from the gallery.
A wild yell went up as he came into view, but he heeded it not and raced for the big chamber. Reaching it, he turned and hurled the weapon with all his force into the long tapering stalactites that hung like rows of organ-pipes from the roof. It whirled through the air like a torch and crashed into the target with a noise of splintering glass. Several of the stalactites snapped off, and falling on to the Chungs, tripped them up. They in turn, as Biggles had done a few moments earlier, clutched at the stalagmites to save themselves from falling, but they were as brittle as icicles, and crashing down, only added to the confusion.
Biggles hesitated only long enough to seize another length of limestone to use as a weapon, and then made a rush for the cave in the far corner. He reached it before the Chungs had recovered, and without waiting to see if they were following, darted into it like a rabbit going into a burrow. To his
surprise and joy, he discovered that a faint light emanated from the length of rock he was carrying, so holding it before him like a lantern, he was able to make good progress.
For ten minutes or more he hurried on, and then stopped to listen. Somewhere far away he could hear various noises; the strange chattering voices of his pursuers, and the sound of scurrying footsteps. They seemed to be all around him, so he went on, frowning as a fresh doubt came into his mind. In the confusion of thought following his return to con-
sciousness, he had assumed that Ginger had escaped the fate that had befallen him, and had remained sa
fely on the mountain side, in which case he would be certain to return to the Explorer for assistance. But it now struck him with an unpleasant thrill of apprehension that the lad might have fallen into the mountain as well; he might even be lying smothered under the debris at the head of the tunnel.
Panting from exertion and dripping with perspiration, he hurried on, blaming himself for not thinking of it before. 'I should have gone straight back,' he told himself savagely, and then jerked to a standstill as a yellow light flared up ahead. It disappeared again, but he stood still, listening intently and staring into the blackness, waiting for it to reappear. A faint noise reached his ears, and then he understood. Someone was coming down the cave, striking matches as he came, but a moment's reflection told him that it was unlikely that the Chungs could have got beyond him, so it could only be one of his own party.
`Hello, there,' he shouted, and then flinched as the noise of his voice boomed up and down the low corridor.
The approaching footsteps stopped abruptly, so he hurried on towards them. 'All right, it'
s me,' he said quietly, realizing that the light-bearer would be startled.
`By gosh! you were just in time,' came Algy's voice. 'I was just going to shoot. I thought it was a brontosaurus, or something, in search of its prey. I'
m nothing for this subterranean stuff. Thank God you're alive, old lad. We thought you were a goner.'
`So did I,' answered Biggles, grimly, as they met. ' But don't let's stop and talk now. The Chungs are on the trail.' Chungs! Great Scott! What – in here ?'
`Yes.'
`Where have you been all this time ?' asked Algy, as they set off up the passage.
Ì got knocked out when I fell, and when I came round I stopped to have a look at the power-station.' Power-station?'
`Yes, it's just below. I'll tell you all about it later on. How did you get here ?'
' Ginger came back to the boat as white as a sheet and told us that you'd fallen into a hole in the middle of the mountain. We taxied the machine across to this side of the lake –
Ginger showed us where we could land – and formed a rescue party. When we got to the hole we discovered it wasn't so deep after all, and I half expected to find you unconscious at the bottom. We had brought the anchor rope from the machine, so the others let me down to look for you. When I couldn't find you at the bottom, I knew you must be down here somewhere, so I was going to keep on until I found you.'
`Thanks,' nodded Biggles. `So you've left the pass unguarded?'
`We had to. Our one concern was to get you out. It took all hands to lower me, anyway.
And if you'd been seriously hurt it would have taken the lot of us to carry you back to the boat.'
`Yes, I see that,' replied Biggles. 'Wait a minute!' `What's wrong ?'
Ì don't know, but I don't remember this level stretch. I swear I didn't come down it. Did you notice any side turnings when you came down ?'
`Yes, there were two or three higher up, down the part where you must have slid, and one later on, a sort of Y fork.'
`Then we've taken the wrong turning,' declared Biggles. `Let's go back. We must watch for an opening on the right now; don't let's go past it.'
They hurried back down the cave up which they had just come.
`Here we are; this must be it,' said Biggles, with a sigh of relief, as a dark hole showed in the wall on their right. `Thank goodness! I'd hate to be lost in here. I don't hear the Chungs any longer, but they're bound to be hunting for me, so we shall have to watch our steps.'
A few minutes later the cave suddenly opened out into a chamber so vast that the ceiling could not be seen, even with the help of a lighted match. Biggles's jaw set grimly. 'What's this ?' he snapped. 'We're wrong again.'
`Yes,' agreed Algy quietly. 'I've never seen this place before.'
Biggles swung round on his heel, struck another match, and found himself staring at half a dozen door-like openings set close together in the wall. 'Which of those caves did we just come out of?' he asked in a strange voice.
Algy caught his breath. 'I don't know,' he confessed. `Nor I. It's no use pretending any longer; we're lost.' `Looks like it.'
Àll right; let's keep going; it's no use sitting down and crying about it. We must try to find a path that leads uphill. Let's go across to the far side of this place and see if there is a continuation of the passage we came up.'
`No,' he continued some minutes later, after they had made a complete survey of the vast apartment. 'There's no way out this side. It's a dead end. Let's go back; I don't suppose we shall strike the passage we came up, but we might as well go somewhere.'
Half an hour later, in a narrow corridor, he stopped again. `Got a cigarette on you?' he asked. 'Thanks. I'm afraid this looks like a bad business,' he murmured.
Ìt does.'
`We don't seem to be able to strike a path that goes straight uphill, although I think we're higher than we were: the place is a regular honeycomb. If we can't go up we shall have to go down; maybe we'll find the power-station. I'd rather try to beat my way out through the Chungs than wander about in this catacomb much longer.'
They set off again, no longer with any fixed purpose other than to find a way out of the mountain, anywhere. They had long ago abandoned the idea of striking the original path, or even of recognizing it if they did.
Biggles, who was leading, suddenly threw himself backwards with a gasp. For a moment or two he was so shaken that he could hardly speak. 'Look!' he said in a low voice. Ì forgot it was dark outside; I nearly stepped over.'
Algy craned forward and peered over his shoulder. A great black wall confronted him; far above it a single star twinkled in the sky. 'What is it?' he asked in a hushed whisper.
`The dam.'
`Good heavens! So we're below the lake.'
`Yes – about forty feet by the look of it.'
`We're looking out over that gulch below it.'
`Seems like it.'
Ìs there no way up or down?'
`None. The path just ends in the face of the rock. If we were flies we could crawl up, but we're not. If we had a four-hundred-foot rope we might get down – but I doubt it. We haven't, so it's no use talking about it. Still, it's something to have seen the sky and to know it's still there. Come on, let's go back.'
Returning, they found a narrow opening which seemed to lead upwards. They followed it for a few yards and then came to a blank end. Above them rose a chimney-like hole, like the shaft of a mine. At the top, a hundred feet above them, was a small circular patch of star-studded sky.
Biggles laughed bitterly. 'Tough luck again,' he said. `We can't get up there. Back we go.'
Again they retraced their footsteps, and for a little while plodded on in silence. They found a path that led steeply upwards; it was little more than a crack in the rock, but they went up it with renewed hope. The walls began to glow with a weird phosphorescent light.
Ìt looks to me as if we're getting near the summit,' remarked Biggles. 'What queer stuff this is,' he went on, pointing at a particularly bright patch on the wall. He raised the length of stalagmite he was still carrying, and struck it a sharp blow. There was a cloud of tiny blue sparks, and then he staggered back as the whole wall fell outwards and the cave was flooded with a dazzling blue radiance. The cave had become a narrow cornice on the side of the mountain. Neither spoke. Below them lay the lake, shining like a floodlit sea, while all around towered the mountains, reflecting the pale light of the one on which they stood.
`There's Dickpa and the others; I can see them still sitting by the hole,' cried Algy.
But Biggles was not listening. Instinctively his eyes had sought the place where the Explorer should have been moored. He clutched Algy's arm. 'It's gone,' he cried hoarsely.
` Gone – what?'
`The machine.'
Algy stared, and swallowed something in his throat. 'Yes,' he echoed in a hollow voice. '
It's gone – no, there she is, over there.'
He raised his arm and pointed.
Biggles, following the line, saw the amphibian floating far out on the broad bosom of the lake.
`But what's she doing there?' he exclaimed foolishly. `How do I know?'
Biggles shielded his eyes with his hands. 'Is it my imagination, or is the right wing low?'
he said, in a tense voice. 'If I didn't know that such a thing was impossible, I should say she was sinking. Look how deep she is in the water. Why, the lower starboard wing is almost touching.'
`Great heaven, I believe you're right.'
`Let's go down.'
`Can we get?'
`We've got to.'
`Let's hail the others; they're not more than a quarter of a mile away.'
`Better not; the Chungs may hear us. Steady how you go, and don't trust the rock more than you must; it's as rotten as tinder on the outside.'
Half-way down the steep slope a large piece of rock broke away and crashed downwards, carrying a shower of smaller pieces with it. At the sound of the landslide, three figures, crouching near the edge of the hole, started up.
Ìt's all right, it's us,' called Biggles, seeing that they were uncertain how to act.
Five minutes later they met, and Biggles cut short the Professor's congratulations on his escape. 'What's happened to the machine ?' he asked curtly.
`Happened to it? Nothing, as far as I know. We thought we'd better keep a guard on it, so Ginger went back about half an hour ago.
`Where to ?'
`We left the machine moored against the rock, just this side of the dam, where we disembarked.'
`Well, it isn't there now. It's out on the lake, and I don't like the look of it. The sooner we get along and see what's wrong, the better.'
06 Biggles Hits The Trail Page 13
