CHAPTER XXX

ALL ABOUT THE MOST TERRIBLE BUT MAGNIFICENT RIDE I EVER TOOK IN MY

LIFE.—NINETY MILES ON THE BACK OF A FLYING MASS OF ICE, AND HOW

BULGER AND I WERE LANDED AT LAST ON THE BANKS OF A MOST WONDERFUL

RIVER.—HOW THE DAY BROKE IN THIS UNDER WORLD.

Had my hand at that moment not grasped a cord tied to the neck of my

wise and keen-eyed Bulger, I really believe I would have come to a halt,

faced about, retraced my steps, and begged the inhabitants of this

crystal realm to admit me once more into the cold kingdom where Gelidus

held his icy court; for a sudden fit of depression came upon me as the

chilly air struck against my cheeks and I saw the deep darkness made

visible by the tiny flame of my alabaster lamp.

Cold though it might be, I would have sunshine in the icy land of the

Koltykwerps, but now how could I tell what fate awaited me?

Luckily, I had asked the captain of the meat quarries to allow me to

retain one of his sounding-rods with its flint point, for I feared lest

in descending some icy declivity I might fall and bruise, or even break,

a limb.

I was determined to advance cautiously along this icy passage, shrouded

as it was in impenetrable gloom, and so different from the broad and

polished pavement of the Marble Highway; and hence, hanging the lamp

about my neck, I proceeded to make use of the sounding-rod as an

alpenstock, for which purposes it was admirably adapted. Suddenly Bulger

halted, gave a low whine of warning, and turned back. In an instant I

knew that there was danger ahead, and letting myself drop on my hands

and knees crawled carefully along to make an investigation of the

dangerous spot in our route signalled by the watchful Bulger.

It was only too true: we stood apparently upon the very edge of a sheer

parapet, how high I had no way of ascertaining, but I was unable to

reach any bottom with the sounding-rod.

What was to be done? Turn back?

It was not yet too late, the Koltykwerpian quarrymen could not have

completed their task in so short a time, they would hear my knock, they

would tear down their wall of ice, and Gelidus and Schneeboule would

welcome us back to their ice palace with a cold, but honest

satisfaction.

As I sat there plunged in thought, I half unconsciously began to twirl

the sounding-rod around until I had sunk it half its length into the

floor of ice, and then reaching out I encircled Bulger with my arm and

drew him up against me as was my wont when preparing for profound

meditation.

I had scarcely done so when the ice beneath me gave one of those sharp,

clear, cracking noises so unlike the sound made by the breaking of any

other substance; and thereupon I felt the crystal mass on which Bulger

and I were sitting tremble and vibrate for an instant, and then, with a

sudden downward cant, break away from the mass behind it and begin to

move!

Instinctively a sense of my awful peril prompted me to cling to the

sounding-rod which I had sunk drill-like into the ice. Luckily it was

between my legs, and quick as a flash I intwined them around it,

assuming a Turkish sitting posture, while my left arm was wrapped

tightly around Bulger’s body.

I don’t know how it was done, done as it was all in an instant; but

there I sat now firmly saddled, so to speak, upon that crystal monster’s

back, as with a creak and a crash it snapped the crystal links which

bound it to the wall of ice and plunged headlong down the glassy slope.

In my fright I had dropped my lamp, and now the deep gloom of this under

world inwrapped me. But no, it was not so, for as the escaping block of

ice creaked and craunched its way along, the two cold crystal surfaces

gave forth a weird glimmer of phosphorescent light which made the flying

mass seem like a monstrous living thing, out of whose thousand eyes were

darting tongues of flame as it rushed madly along, now gaining speed

upon striking a steeper stretch of way, now fouling with some

obstruction and dashing against the rocky sides of the corridor, and

sending a shower of crystals sparkling and glittering in the black air!

Anon the escaping block comes upon a gentle slope, and with the low

music of crushing crystals slips softly along in its flight as if

mounted upon runners of polished steel, and then with a sudden dip it

glides upon a sharper descent and fairly leaps into the air as it bounds

along, hissing over the slippery roadway, and leaving a train of fire

behind it. And now it strikes a stretch of way piled here and there with

clumps and blocks of ice.

With a mad fury it springs upon the lesser ones with a growl of rage,

grinding them to powder, which, like showers of icy foam, it hurls upon

Bulger and me seated on its back. But some of the blocks resist its

terrible onslaught and our mighty steed is hurled from side to side with

crash and creak, as it drives its crystal corners fiercely against the

jutting rocks, leaving marks of its white flesh on these black heads of

adamant.

It seems an hour since the crystal monster broke away, and yet ever

downward he threads his wild flight, butting, bumping, jostling,

veering, staggering along, bearing Bulger and me to the lowest level of

the World within a World.

Will he never end his mad flight?

Is there no way for me to curb him?

Must he fly until he has ground his very body to such a thinness that

the next obstruction will shatter it into ten thousand pieces, and hurl

Bulger and me to death?

As these thoughts are flitting through my mind, the flying mass takes

one last mad plunge which lands it on an almost level stretch of

roadway, and by the different sound given out by the sliding block, I

know that we have left the regions of ice behind us, and that our

crystal sledge is gliding gently along over a track of polished marble.

But, mile after mile, it still glides along, gently, softly, silently,

and then I dare to think that our lives are saved.

But so terrible had been the strain, so fearful the anxiety, so

exhausting the effort necessary to hold my place on the block of ice,

and keep my beloved Bulger from slipping out of my arms, that I fell

backward into a dead faint as the gliding mass came, at last, to a

standstill. I think I must have lain there a good half hour or so; for

when I came to myself Bulger’s frantic joy told me that he had been

terribly wrought up over me, and the moment I opened my eyes he began to

shower caresses on my hands and face in most lover-like style. Dear,

grateful heart, he felt that he owed his life this time to his little

master, and he wanted me to understand how thankful he was.

The moment Bulger’s nerves had recovered from the shock occasioned by my

prolonged faint, I reached for my repeater and touched its spring.

It registered one hour and a half since we had stepped through the icy

portal of King Gelidus’ domain. Allowing a half-hour for the time I lay

unconscious, it showed that our mad descent on the back of the crystal

monster had lasted quite a full hour, and reckoning the average speed of

the escaping mass of ice to have been a mile and a half a minute, that

we were now in the neighborhood of ninety miles away from the cold

kingdom where Gelidus sat on his icy throne, and Princess Schneeboule at

his feet with Chillychops beside her.

It was with great difficulty that I could rise to my feet, so stiffened

were my joints and knotted my muscles after that terrible ride, every

instant of which I expected to be dashed to pieces against projecting

rocks, or torn to shreds by being caught between the fleeing monster of

ice and the gigantic icicles hanging from the ceiling like the shining

teeth of some huge creature of this under world.

[Illustration: THE TROPICS OF THE UNDER WORLD.]

But could it be, dear friends, that Bulger and I had only escaped a

quick and merciful ending to be brought face to face with a death ten

times more terrible, in that it was to be slow and gradual, denied even

the poor boon of looking upon each other, for darkness impenetrable was

folded about us and silence so deep that my ears ached in their longing

for some sound to break it. And yet there was something in the sound of

my own voice that startled me when I used it: it seemed as if the awful

stillness were angered at being disturbed by it, and smote it back into

my teeth.

Where are we? This was the question I put to myself, and then in my mind

I strove to recall every word which I had read in the musty pages of Don

Fum’s manuscript concerning the World within a World; but I could

recollect nothing to enlighten me, not a word to give me hope or cheer,

and I was about to cry out in utter despair when, happening to raise my

eyes and look off in the distance, I saw what seemed to me to be a

jack-a-lantern dancing along on the ground.

It was a strange and fantastic sight in this region of inky darkness,

and for a moment I stood watching it with bated breath and wide-opened

eyes; but no, it could not be a will-with-the-wisp, for now the faint

and uncertain glimmer had increased to a mild but steady glow, reaching

away off in the distance like a long line of dying camp-fires seen

through an enveloping mist.

But in a moment’s time this wide encircling ring of light had so

increased in brightness that it looked for all the world like a break o’

day in the land o’ sunshine, and here and there where its mild

effulgence overcame the darkness of this subterranean region, I caught

sight of walls and arches and columns of snow-white marble. And then as

I called to mind Don Fum’s mysterious reference to “sunrise in the lower

world,” I swung my hat and gave a loud cry of joy, while Bulger waked

the echoes of these spacious caverns by his barking. I tell you, dear

friends, not until you have been in just such a plight can you know just

how such a rescue feels.

And now, no doubt, you are a bit anxious to know what sort of a sunrise

could possibly take place in this under world miles below our own.

Well, when you have travelled as many miles as I have, and seen as many

wonders as I have, you’ll be ready to admit that wonders are quite as

commonplace as commonplace itself. Know, then, that this vast region of

the World within a World was girt round about by a broad and placid

stream whose waters swarmed with vast numbers of gigantic radiate

animals, such as polyps, sea-urchins, Portuguese men-of-war,

sea-anemones, and the like; that these transparent creatures, which had

the power of emitting light, after lying dormant for twelve hours,

gradually unfolded their bodies and tentacles, and rose toward the

surface of these calm and limpid waters, increasing by degrees their

mysterious radiance, until they had chased the darkness from the vast

caverns opening upon the banks of the river, and lighted up this under

world with a soft effulgence somewhat brighter than the rays of our full

moon. For twelve hours these weird lanterns of the stream made it day

for this nether world, and then, as they gradually shrank together and

sank out of sight, their expiring fires glowed with all the multicolored

radiance of our fairest twilight, and the night, blacker than Stygian

darkness, came back again. But now ’twas full daylight, and bidding

Bulger follow me I walked in silent wonder along the banks of this

glowing stream, which, like a band of mysterious fire, as far as my eye

could reach went circling around the white marble mouths of these vast

underground chambers.