_A strange manuscript found in a copper cylinder_
          (the seventh installment)

   from _Harper's weekly_ (1888-feb-18) 
           (by James De Mille)


IX: The Cavern of the Dead

  On going forth into the outer grotto I saw the table spread with
a sumptuous repast, and the apartment in a blaze of light.  Almah
was not ere; and though some servants made signs for me to eat, yet
I could not until I should see whether she was coming or not.  I
had to wait for a long time, however; and while I was waiting the
chief entered, shading his eyes with his hand from the painful
light.  He bowed low with the most profound courtesy, saying,
"Salonla," to which I responded in the same way.  He seemed much
pleased at this, and made a few remarks, which I did not
understand; whereupon, anxious to lose no time in learning the
language, I repeated to him all the words I knew, and asked after
others.  I pointed to him and asked his name.  He said, "Kohen." 
This, however, I afterwards found was not a name, but a title.  The
"Kohen" did not remain long, for the light was painful.  After his
departure I was alone for some time, and at length Almah made her
appearance.  I sprang to meet her, full of joy, and took her hand
in both of mine and pressed it warmly.  She smiled, and appeared
quite free from the melancholy of the previous day.

  We ate our breakfast together, after which we went out into the
world of light, groping our way along through the dark passages
amid the busy crowd.  Almah could see better than I in the
darkness; but she was far from seeing well, and did not move with
that easy step and perfect certainty which all the others showed. 
Like me, she was a child of light, and the darkness was distressing
to her.  As we went on we were seen by all, but were apparently
not considered prisoners.  On the contrary, all looked at us with
the deepest respect, and bowed low or moved aside, and occasionally
made little offerings of fruit or flowers to one or the other of
us.  It seemed to me that we were treated with equal distinction;
and if Almah was their queen, I, their guest, was regarded with
equal honor.  Whatever her rank might be, however, she was to all
appearance the most absolute mistress of her own actions, and moved
about among all these people with the independence and dignity of
some person of exalted rank.

  At length we emerged into the open air.  Here the contrast to the
cavern gloom inside gave to the outer world unusual brightness and
splendor, so that even under the heavy overarching tree-ferns,
which had seemed so dark when I was here before, it now appeared
light and cheerful.  Almah turned to the right, and we walked along
the terrace.  But few people were visible.  They shrank from the
light, and kept themselves in the caverns.  Then after a few steps
we came to the base of a tall half-pyramid, the summit of which
was above the tops of the trees.  I pointed to this, as though I
wished to go up.  Almah hesitated for a moment, and seemed to
shrink back, but at length, overcoming her reluctance, began the
ascent.  A flight of stony steps led up.  On reaching the top, I
found it about thirty feet long by fifteen wide, with a high stone
table in the middle.  At that moment, however, I scarce noticed the
pyramid summit, and I only describe it now because I was fated
before long to see it with different feelings.  What I then noticed
was the vast and wondrous display of all the glories of nature that
burst at once upon my view.  There was that same boundless sea,
rising up high towards the horizon, as I had seen it before, and
suggesting infinite extent.  There were the blue waters breaking
into foam, the ships traversing the deep, the far-encircling shores
green in vegetation, the high rampart of ice-bound mountains that
shut in the land, making it a world by itself.  There was the sun,
low on the horizon, which it traversed on its long orbit, lighting
up all these scenes till the six months day should end and the six
months night begin.

  For a long time I stood feasting my eyes upon all this splendor,
and at length turned to see whether Almah shared my feelings.  One
look was enough.  She stood absorbed in the scene, as though she
were drinking in deep draughts of all this matchless beauty.  I
felt amazed at this; I saw how different she seemed from the
others, and could not account for it.  But as yet I knew too little
of the language to question her, and could only hope for a future
explanation when I had learned more.

  We descended at length and walked about the terrace and up and
down the side streets.  All were the same as I had noticed
before--terraced streets, with caverns on one side and massive
stone structures on the other.  I saw deep channels, which were
used as drains to carry down mountain torrents.  I did not see all
at this first walk, but I inspected the whole city in many
subsequent walks until its outlines were all familiar.  I found it
about a mile long and about half a mile wide, constructed in a
series of terraces, which rose one above another in a hollow of the
mountains round a harbor of the sea.  On my walks I met with but
few people on the streets, and they all seemed troubled with the
light.  I saw also occasionally some more of those great birds, the
name of which I learned from Almah; it was "opkuk."

  For some time my life went on most delightfully.  I found myself
surrounded with every comfort and luxury.  Almah was my constant
associate, and all around regarded us with the profoundest respect. 
The people were the mildest, most gentle, and most generous that I
had ever seen.  The Kohen seemed to pass most of his time in making
new contrivances for my happiness.  This strange people, in their
dealings with me and with one another, seemed animated by a
universal desire to do kindly acts; and the only possible objection
against them was their singular love of darkness.

  My freedom was absolute.  No one watched me.  Almah and I could
go where we chose.  So far as I could perceive, we were quite at
liberty, if we wished, to take a boat and escape over the sea.  It
seemed also quite likely that if we had ordered out a galley and a
gang of oarsmen, we should have been supplied with all that we
might want in the most cheerful manner.  Such a thought, however,
was absurd.  Why should I think of flying?

  I had long ago lost all idea of time; and here, where it was for
the present perpetual day, I was more at a loss than ever.  I
supposed that it was somewhere in the month of March, but whether
at the beginning or the end I could not tell.  The people had a
regular system of wake-time and sleep-time, by which they ordered
their lives; but whether these respective times were longer or
shorter than the days and nights at home I could not tell at that
time, though I afterwards learned all about it.  On the whole, I
was perfectly content--nay, more, perfectly happy; more so, indeed,
than ever in my life, and quite willing to forget home and friends
and everything in the society of Almah.  While in her company there
was always one purpose upon which I was most intent, and that was
to master the language.  I made rapid progress, and while she was
absent I sought out others, especially the Kohen, with whom to
practice.  The Kohen was always most eager to aid me in every
conceivable way or to any conceivable thing; and he had such a
gentle manner and showed such generous qualities that I soon
learned to regard him with positive affection.

  Almah was always absent for several hours after I rose in the
morning, and when she made her appearance it was with the face and
manner of one who had returned from some unpleasant task.  It
always took some time for her to regain that cheerfulness which she
usually showed.  I soon felt a deep curiosity to learn the nature
of her employment and office here, and as my knowledge of the
language increased I began to question her.  My first attempts were
vain.  She looked at me with indescribable mournfulness and shook
her head.  This, however, only confirmed me in my suspicions that
her duties, whatever they might be, were of a painful nature; so I
urged her to tell me, and asked her as well as I could if I might
not share them or help her in some way.  To all this, however, she
only returned sighs and mournful looks for an answer.  It seemed to
me, from her manner and from the general behavior of the people,
that there was no express prohibition on my learning anything,
doing anything, or going anywhere; and so, after this, I besought
her to let me accompany her some time.  But this too she refused.
My requests were often made, and as I learned more and more of the
language I was able to make them with more earnestness and effect,
until at length I succeeded in overcoming her objections.

  "It is for your own sake," said she, "that I have refused,
Atam-or.  I do not wish to lessen your happiness.  But you must
know all soon; and so, if you wish to come with me and see what I
have to do, why, you may come the next _jom_."

  This meant the next day, _jom_ being the division of time
corresponding with our day.  At this promise I was so full of
gratitude that I forgot all about the dark suggestiveness of her
words.  The next _jom_ I arose sooner than usual and went forth. 
I found Almah waiting for me.  She looked troubled, and greeted me
with a mournful smile.

  "You will find pain in this," said she; "but you wish it, and if
you still wish it, why, I will take you with me."

  At this I only persisted the more, and so we set forth.  We went
through the cavern passages.  Few people were there; all seemed
asleep.  Then we went out-of-doors and came into the full blaze of
that day which here knew no night, but prolonged itself into
months.  For a while Almah stood looking forth between the trees to
where the bright sunlight sparkled on the sea, and then with a sigh
she turned to the left.  I followed.  On coming to the next portal
she went in.  I followed, and found myself in a rough cavern, dark
and forbidding.  Traversing this we came to an inner doorway,
closed with a heavy mat.  This she raised, and passed through,
while I went in after her.

  I found myself in a vast cavern, full of dim, sparkling lights,
which served not to illuminate it, but merely to indicate its
enormous extent.  Far above rose the vaulted roof, to a height of
apparently a hundred feet.  Under this there was a lofty
half-pyramid with stone steps.  All around, as far as I could see
in the obscure light, there were niches in the walls, each one
containing a figure with a light burning at its feet.  I took them
for statues.  Almah pointed in silence to one of these which was
nearest, and I went up close so as to see it.

  The first glance that I took made me recoil with horror.  It was
no statue that I saw in that niche, but a shrivelled human form--a
hideous sight.  It was dark and dried; it was fixed in a sitting
posture, with its hands resting on its knees, and its hollow eyes
looking forward.  On its head was the mockery of a wreath of
flowers, while from its heart there projected the handle and half
of the blade of a knife which had been thrust there.  What was the
meaning of this knife?  It seemed to tell of a violent death.  Yet
the flowers must surely be a mark of honor.  A violent death with
honor, and the embalmed remains--these things suggested nothing
else than the horrid thought of a human sacrifice.  I looked away
with eager and terrible curiosity.  I saw all the niches, hundreds
upon hundreds, all filled with these fearful occupants.  I turned
again with a sinking heart to Almah.  Her face was full of anguish.

  "This is my duty," said she.  "Every _jom_ I must come here and
crown these victims with fresh flowers."

  A feeling of sickening horror overwhelmed me.  Almah had spoken
these words and stood looking at me with a face of woe.  This,
then, was that daily task from which she was wont to return in such
sadness--an abhorrent task to her, and one to which familiarity had
never reconciled her.  What was she doing here?  What dark fate was
it that thus bound this child of light to these children of
darkness? or why was she thus compelled to perform a service from
which all her nature revolted?  I read in her face at this moment
a horror equal to my own; and t the sight of her distress my own
was lessened, and there arose within me a profound sympathy and a
strong desire to do something to alleviate her misery.

  "This is no place for you," continued Almah.  "Go, and I will
soon join you."

  "No," said I, using her language after my own broken
fashion--"no, I will not go--I will stay, I will help, if you will
permit."

  She looked at me earnestly, and seemed to see that my resolution
was firmly fixed, and that I was not to be dissuaded from it.

  "Very well," said she; "if you do stay and help me, it will be a
great relief."

  With these simple words she proceeded to carry out her work.  At
the foot of the pyramid there was a heap of wreaths made out of
fresh flowers, and these were to be placed by her on the heads of
the embalmed corpses.

  "This work," said she, "is considered here the highest and most
honorable that can be performed.  It is given to me out of
kindness, and they cannot understand that I can have any other
feelings in the performance than those of joy and exultation--here
among the dead and in the dark."

  I said nothing, but followed and watched her, carrying the
wreaths and supplying her.  She went to each niche in succession,
and after taking the wreath off each corpse she placed a fresh one
on, saying a brief formula at each act.  By keeping her supplied
with wreaths I was able to lighten her task, so much so that,
whereas it usually occupied her more than two hours, on the present
occasion it was finished in less than half an hour.  She informed
me that those which she crowned were the corpses of men who had
been sacrificed during the present season--by season meaning the
six months of light; and that though many more were here, yet they
wore crowns of gold.  At the end of ten years they were removed to
public sepulchres.  The number of those which had to be crowned by
her was about a hundred.  Her work was only to crown them, the
labor of collecting the flowers and weaving the wreaths and
attending to the lamps being performed by others.

  I left this place with Almah, sad and depressed.  She had not
told me why these victims had been sacrificed, nor did I feel
inclined to ask.  A dark suspicion had come to me that these
people, underneath all their amiable ways, concealed thoughts,
habits, and motives of a frightful kind; and that beyond all my
present brightness and happiness there might be a fate awaiting me
too horrible for thought.  Yet I did not wish to borrow trouble.
What I had seen and heard was quite enough for one occasion.  I was
anxious, rather, to forget it all.  Nor did Almah's words or manner
in any way reassure me.  She was silent and sad and preoccupied. 
It was as though she knew the worst, and knowing it, dared not
speak; as though there was something more horrible which she dared
not reveal.  For my part, I feared it so that I dared not ask.  It
was enough for me just then to know that my mild and self-denying
and generous entertainers were addicted to the abhorrent custom of
human sacrifices.

XI. THE SWAMP MONSTER 

A few _joms_ after, I was informed by the Kohen that there 
was to be another sacred hunt.  At first I felt inclined to 
refuse, but on learning that Almah was going, I resolved to 
go also; for Almah, though generally mistress of her actions, had
nevertheless certain duties to perform, and among these was the
necessity of accompanying hunting-parties.  I did not yet
understand her position here, nor had I heard from her yet how it
was that she was so different from the rest of them.  That was all
to be learned at a future time.  For the present I had to be
satisfied with knowing that she belonged to a different nation, who
spoke a different language, and that all her thoughts and feelings
were totally different from those of the people among whom she 
was living.  She loved the light, she feared death, and she had
never been able in the slightest degree to reconcile herself to the
habits of these people.  This I could readily understand, for to me
it seemed as though they lived in opposition to nature itself.  

  We went out into the daylight, and then I saw a sight 
which filled me with amazement.  I saw a flock of birds 
larger than even the opkuks.  They were called "opmahera." 
They seemed as tall as giraffes, and their long legs indicated 
great powers of running.  Their wings were very short, and 
not adapted for flight.  They were very tractable, and were 
harnessed for riding in a peculiar way; lines like reins were 
fastened to the wings, and the driver, who sat close by the 
neck, guided the bird in this way.  Each bird carried two 
men, but for Almah and me there was a bird apiece.  An 
iron prod was also taken by each driver as a spur.  I did not 
find out until afterwards how to drive.  At that time the 
prospect of so novel a ride was such an exciting one that I 
forgot everything else.  The birds seemed quiet and docile.  I 
took it for granted that mine was well trained, and would 
go with the others of his own accord.  We all mounted by 
means of a stone platform which stood by the pyramid, and 
soon were on our way.  

  The speed was amazing; the fastest race-horse at home 
is slow compared with this.  It was as swift as an ordinary 
railway train, if not more so.  For some minutes the novelty 
of my situation took away all other thoughts, and I held 
the reins in my hands without knowing how to use them.  
But this mattered not, for the well-trained bird kept on after 
the others, while Almah on her bird was close behind me.  
The pace, as I said, was tremendous, yet no easier motion 
can be imagined.  The bird bounded along with immense 
leaps, with wings outstretched, but its feet touched the 
ground so lightly that the motion seemed almost equal to 
flying.  We did not confine ourselves to the roads, for the 
birds were capable of going over any kind of country in a 
straight line.  On this occasion we passed over wide fields 
and rocky mountain ridges and deep swamps and sand 
wastes at the same speed, until at length we reached a vast 
forest of dense tree-ferns, where the whole band stopped for 
a short time, after which we took up a new direction, 
moving on more slowly.  The forest grew up out of a swamp, 
which extended as far as the eye could reach from the sea 
to the mountains.  Along the edge of this forest we went for 
some time, until at length there came a rushing, crackling 
sound, as of something moving there among the trees, 
crushing down everything in its progress.  We halted, and 
did not have to wait long; for soon, not far away, there 
emerged from the thick forest a figure of incredible size and 
most hideous aspect.  

  It looked like one of those fabled dragons such as may 
be seen in pictures, but without wings.  It was nearly a hundred 
feet in length, with a stout body and a long tail, covered all over
with impenetrable scales.  It hind-legs were rather longer than its
fore-legs, and it moved its huge body with ease and rapidity.  Its
feet were armed with formidable claws.  But its head was most
terrific.  It was a vast mass of bone, with enormous eyes that
glared like fire; its jaws opened to the width of six or eight
feet, and were furnished with rows of sharp teeth, while at the
extremity of its nose there was a tusk several feet long, like the
horn of a rhinoceros, curving backward.  All this I took in at the
first glance, and the next instant the whole band of hunters, with
their usual recklessness, flung themselves upon the monster.  

  For a short time all was the wildest confusion--an 
intermingling of birds and men, with the writhing and roaring 
beast.  With his huge claws and his curved horn and his wide 
jaws he dealt death and destruction all around; yet still the 
assailants kept at their work.  Many leaped down to the 
ground and rushed close up to the monster, thrusting their 
lances into the softer and more unprotected parts of his 
body; while others, guiding their birds with marvelous 
dexterity, assailed him on all sides.  The birds, too, were 
kept well to their work; nor did they exhibit any fear.  It was 
not until they were wounded that they sought to fly.  Still, 
the contest seemed too unequal.  The sacrifice of life was 
horrible.  I saw men and birds literally torn to pieces before 
my eyes.  Nevertheless, the utter fearlessness of the assailants 
confounded me.  In spite of the slaughter, fresh crowds 
rushed on.  They clambered over his back, and strove to 
drive their lances under his bony cuirass.  In the midst of 
them I saw the Kohen.  By some means he had reached the 
animal's back, and was crawling along, holding by the 
coarse shaggy mane.  At length he stopped, and with a 
sudden effort thrust his lance into the monster's eye.  The 
vast beast gave a low and terrible howl; his immense tail 
went flying all about; in his pain he rolled over and over, 
crushing underneath him in his awful struggles all who were 
nearest.  I could no longer be inactive.  I raised my rifle, and 
as the beast in his writhings exposed his belly I took aim at 
the soft flesh just inside his left fore-leg, and fired both 
barrels.  

  At that instant my bird gave a wild, shrill scream and a 
vast bound into the air, and then away it went like the 
wind--away, I know not where.  That first bound had nearly 
jerked me off; but I managed to avoid this and now instinctively 
clung with all my might to the bird's neck, still holding my 
rifle.  The speed of the bird was twice as great as it 
had been before--as the speed of a runaway horse surpasses 
that of the same horse when trotting at his ordinary rate 
and under control.  I could scarcely make out where I was 
going.  Rocks, hills, swamps, fields, trees, sand, and sea all 
seemed to flash past in one confused assemblage, and the 
only thought in my mind was that I was being carried to 
some remote wilderness, to be flung there bruised and 
maimed among the rocks, to perish helplessly.  Every 
moment I expected to be thrown, for the progress of the 
bird was not only inconceivably swift, but it also gave immense 
leaps into the air; and it was only its easy mode of 
lighting on the ground after each leap that saved me from 
being hurled off.  As it was, however, I clung instinctively to 
the bird's neck, until at last it came to a stop so suddenly 
that my hands slipped, and I fell to the ground.  

(End of seventh installment)