The Lost City
Page 10
CHAPTER X. RESCUED AND RESCUERS.
Despite their very natural excitement, caused by this peril and itsfoiling, Professor Featherwit retained nearly all his customary coolnessand presence of mind.
Readily realising that after such a grim ordeal would almost certainlycome a powerful revulsion, his first aim was to swing the stranger farenough away from the whirlpool to give him a fair chance for life, incase he should fall, through dizziness or physical collapse, from theend of the drag-rope.
This took but a few seconds, comparatively speaking, though, doubtless,each moment seemed an age to the rescued stranger. Then the professorslowed his ship, looking around in order to determine upon the wisestroute to take.
For one thing, it would be severe work to draw the stranger bodilyup and into the aerostat. For another, unless he should grow weak, orsuffer from vertigo, both time and labour would be saved by taking himdirect to the shore of this broad lake.
As soon as the rope was made fast, and the strain taken off theirmuscles as well as their minds, Bruno flashed a look around, naturallyturning his eyes in the direction of the whirlpool.
Although less than a couple of minutes had elapsed since the man waslifted off the circling drift, even thus quickly had the end drawn nigh;for, even as he looked that way, Gillespie saw the great trunk suckedinto the hidden sink, the top rising with a shiver clear out of thewater as the butt lowered, a hollow, rumbling sound coming to all earsas--
"Gone!" cried Bruno, in awed tones, as the whole drift vanished fromsight for ever.
"Sucked in by Jonah's whale, for ducats!" screamed Waldo, excitedly."Fetch on your blessed 'sour-us' of both the male and female sect! Trot'em to the fore, and if my little old suck don't take the starch out oftheir backbones,--they DID have backbones, didn't they, uncle Phaeton?"
Professor Featherwit frowned, and shook his head in silent reproof.More nearly, perhaps, than either of the boys, he realised what an awfulperil this stranger had so narrowly escaped. It was far too early toturn that escape into jest, even for one naturally light of heart.
He leaned over the hand-rail, peering downward. He could see the rescuedman sitting firmly in the bend of the grapnel, one hand tightly grippingthe rope, its mate shading his eyes, as he stared fixedly towardsthe whirling death-pool, from whose jaws he had so miraculously beenplucked.
There was naught of debility, either of body or of mind, to be read inthat figure, and with his fears on that particular point set at rest,for the time being, Professor Featherwit called out, distinctly:
"Is it all well with you, my good friend? Can you hold fast until theshore is reached, think?"
"Heaven bless you,--yes!" came the reply, in half-choked tones. "If Ifail in giving thanks--"
"Never mention it, friend; it cost us nothing," cheerily interrupted theprofessor, then adding, "Hold fast, please, and we'll put on a wee bitmore steam."
The flying-machine was now fairly headed for a strip of shore whichoffered an excellent opportunity for making a safe landing, and as thataccelerated motion did not appear to materially affect the stranger, ittook but a few minutes to clear the lake.
"Stand ready to let go when we come low enough, please," warned theprofessor, deftly managing his pet machine for that purpose.
The stranger easily landed, then watched the flying-machine withpainfully eager gaze, hands clasped almost as though in prayer. A moreremarkable sight than this half-naked shape, burned brown by the sun,poorly protected by light skins, with sinew fastenings, could scarcelybe imagined; and there was something close akin to tears in more eyesthan one when he came running in chase, arms outstretched, and voicewildly appealing:
"Oh, come back! Take me,--don't leave me,--for love of God and humanity,don't leave me to this living death!"
Professor Featherwit called back a hasty assurance, and brought theair-ship to a landing with greater haste than was exactly prudent, allthings considered; but who could keep cool blood and unmoved heart, withyonder piteous object before their eyes?
When he saw that the flying-machine had fairly landed, and beheld itsinmates stepping forth upon the sands with friendly salutations, therescued stranger staggered, hands clasping his temples for a moment ofdrunken reeling, then he fell forward like one smitten by the hand ofsudden death.
Professor Featherwit called out a few curt directions, which werepromptly obeyed by his nephews, and after a few minutes' well-directedwork consciousness was restored, and the stranger feebly strove to givethem thanks.
In vain these were set aside. He seemed like one half-insane from joy,and none who saw and heard could think that all this emotion arose fromthe simple rescue from the whirlpool. Nor did it.
Wildly, far from coherently, the poor fellow spoke, yet something ofthe awful truth was to be gleaned even from those broken, disjointedsentences.
For ten years an exile in these horrible wilds. For ten years not asingle glimpse of white face or figure. For ten ages no intelligiblevoice, save his own; and that, through long disuse, had threatened todesert him!
"Ten years!" echoed Waldo, in amazement. "Why didn't you rack out o'this, then? I know I would; even if the woods were full of--'sour-us'and the like o' that! Yes, SIR!"
A low, husky laugh came through those heavily bearded lips, and thestranger flung out his hands in a sweeping gesture, sunken eyes glowingwith an almost savage light as he spoke with more coherence:
"Why is it, young gentleman? Why did I not leave, do you ask? Look!All about you it stretches: a cell,--a death-cell, from which escape isimpossible! Here I have fought for what is ever more precious than barelife: for liberty; but though ten awful years have rolled by, here Iremain, in worse than prison! Escape? Ah, how often have I attemptedto escape, only to fail, because escape from these wilds is beyond thepower of any person not gifted with wings!"
"Ten years, you say, good friend? And all that time you have lived herealone?" asked the professor, curiously.
"Ten years,--ten thousand years, I could almost swear, only for keepingthe record so carefully, so religiously. And--pitiful Lord! How gladlywould I have given my good right arm, just for one faraway glimpseof civilisation! How often--but I am wearying you, gentlemen, and youmay--pray don't think that I am crazy; you will not?"
Both the professor and Bruno assured him to the contrary, but Waldo wasless affected, and his curiosity could no longer be kept within bounds.Gently tapping one hairy arm, he spoke:
"I say, friend, what were you doing out yonder in the big suck? Didn'tyou know the fun was hardly equal to the risk, sir?"
"Easy, lad," reproved the professor; but with a a smile, which strangelysoftened that haggard, weather-worn visage, the stranger spoke:
"Nay, kind sir, do not check the young gentleman. If you could onlyrealise how sweet it is to my poor ears,--the sound of a friendly voice!For so many weary years I have never heard one word from human lipswhich I could understand or make answer to. And now,--what is it youwish to know, my dear boy?"
"Well, since you've lived here so long, surely you hadn't ought to getcaught in such a nasty pickle; unless it was through accident?"
"It was partly accidental. One that would have cost me dearly had notyou come to my aid so opportunely. And yet,--only for one thing, I couldscarcely have regretted vanishing for ever down that suck!"
His voice choked, his head bowed, his hands came together in a nervousgrip, all betokening unusual agitation. Even Waldo was just a bit awed,and the stranger was first to break that silence with words.
"How did the mishap come about, is it, young gentleman?" he said, a wansmile creeping into his face, and relaxing those tensely drawn musclesonce more. "While I was trying to replenish my stock of provisions, andafter this fashion, good friends.
"I was fishing from a small canoe, and as the bait was not taken well,I must have fallen into a day dream, thinking of--no matter, now. Andduring that dreaming, the breeze must have blown me well out into thelake, for when I was roused up by a sharp jerk at
my line, I foundmyself near its middle, without knowing just how I came there.
"I have no idea what sort of fish had taken my bait,--there are manyenormous ones in the lake,--but it proved far too powerful for meto manage, and dragged the canoe swiftly through the water, headingdirectly for the outlet, yonder."
"Why didn't you let it go free, then?"
"The line was fastened to the prow, and I could not loosen it in time. Idrew my knife,--one of flint, but keen enough to serve,--only to haveit jerked out of my hand and into the water. Then, just as the fish musthave plunged into the suck, I abandoned my canoe, jumping overboard."
"That's just what I was wondering about," declared Waldo, with avigorous nod of his head. "Yet we found you--there?"
"Because I am a wretchedly poor swimmer. I managed to reach a driftwhich had not yet fairly entered the whirl, but I could do nothing moretowards saving myself. Then--you can guess the rest, gentlemen."
"And the canoe?" demanded Waldo, content only when all points were mademanifest.
"I saw it dragged down the centre of the suck," with an involuntaryshiver. "The fish must have plunged into the underground river, whetherwillingly or not I can only surmise. But all the while I was driftingyonder, around and around, with each circuit drawing closer to theawful end, I could not help picturing to myself how the canoe must haveplunged down, and down, and--burr-r-r!"
A shuddering shiver which was more eloquent than words; but Waldo wasnot yet wholly content, finding an absorbing interest in that particularsubject.
"You call it a river: how do you know it's a river?"
"Of course, I can only guess at the facts, my dear boy," the strangermade reply, smiling once more, and, with an almost timid gesture,extending one hairy paw to lightly touch and gently stroke the armnearest him.
Bruno turned away abruptly, for that gesture, so simple in itself, yetso full of pathos to one who bore in mind those long years of solitaryexile, brought a moisture to his big brown eyes of which, boy-like, hefelt ashamed.
Professor Featherwit likewise took note, and with greater presence ofmind came to the rescue, lightly resting a hand upon the stranger'shalf-bare shoulder while addressing his words to the youngster.
A tremulous sigh escaped those bearded lips, and their owner drew closerto the wiry little aeronaut, plainly drawing great comfort from thatmere contact. And with like ease uncle Phaeton lifted one of those hairyarms to rest it over his own shoulders, speaking briskly the while.
"There is only one way of demonstrating the truth more clearly,my youthful inquisitor, and that is by sending you on a voyage ofexploration. Are you willing to make the attempt, Waldo?"
"Not this evening; some other evening,--maybe!" drawing back a bit, witha shake of his curly pate to match. "But, I say, uncle Phaeton--"
"Allow me to complete my say, first, dear boy," with a bland smile."That is easily done, though, for it merely consists of this: yondersink, or whirlpool, is certainly the method this lake has of relievingitself of all surplus water. Everything points to a subterranean riverwhich connects this lake with the Pacific Ocean."
"Wonder how long I'd have to hold my breath to make the trip?"