There had been a queer quivering when rifles and pack had touched the upthrust of rock. Then they had seemed to melt into it.
“I’d say they dropped into the lake,” said Jim.
“There’s no lake. They dropped into some break in the rock. Come in-”
He gripped my shoulder.
“Wait, Leif. Go slow.”
I followed his pointing finger. The barrier of stones had vanished. Where they had been, the slide ran, a smooth tongue of stone, far out into the valley.
“Come on,” I said.
We went down, testing every step. With each halt, the nibbled1 plain became flatter and flatter, the boulders2 squatted3 lower and lower. A cloud drifted over the sun. There were no boulders. The valley floor stretched below us, a level slate-grey waste!
The slide ended abruptly4 at the edge of this waste. The rocks ended as abruptly, about fifty feet ahead. They stood at the edge with the queer effect of stones set in place when the edge had been viscous5. Nor did the waste appear solid; it, too, gave the impression of viscosity6; through it ran a slight but constant tremor7, like waves of heat over a sun-baked road — yet with every step downward the bitter, still cold increased until it was scarcely to be borne.
There was a narrow passage between the shattered rocks and the cliff at our right. We crept through it. We stood upon an immense flat stone at the very edge of the strange plain. It was neither water nor rock; more than anything, it had the appearance of a thin opaque8 liquid glass, or a gas that had been turned semi-liquid.
I stretched myself out on the slab9, and reached out to touch it. I did touch it — there was no resistance; I felt nothing. I let my hand sink slowly in. I saw my hand for a moment as though reflected in a distorting mirror, and then I could not see it at all. But it was pleasantly warm down there where my hand had disappeared. The chilled blood began to tingle10 in my numbed11 fingers. I leaned far over the stone and plunged12 both arms in almost to the shoulders. It felt damned good.
Jim dropped beside me and thrust in his arms.
“It’s air,” he said.
“Feels like it —” I began, and then a sudden realization13 came to me —“the rifles and the pack! If we don’t get them we’re out of luck!”
He said: “If Khalk’ru is — guns aren’t going to get us away from him.”
“You think this —” I stopped, memory of the shadowy shape in the lake of illusion coming back to me.
“Usunhi’yi, the Darkening-land. The Shadowed-land your old priest called it, didn’t he? I’d say this fits either description.”
I lay quiet; no matter what the certainty of a coming ordeal14 a man may carry in his soul, he can’t help a certain shrinking when he knows his foot is at the threshold of it. And now quite clearly and certainly I knew just that. All the long trail between Khalk’ru’s Gobi temple and this place of mirage15 was wiped out. I was stepping from that focus of Khalk’ru’s power into this one — where what had been begun in the Gobi must be ended. The old haunting horror began to creep over me. I fought it.
I would take up the challenge. Nothing on earth could stop me now from going on. And with that determination, I felt the horror sullenly16 retreat, leave me. For the first time in years I was wholly free of it.
“I’m going to see what’s down there.” Jim drew up his arms. “Hold on to my feet, Leif, and I’ll slip over the edge of the stone. I felt along its edge and it seems to go on a bit further.”
“I’ll go first.” I said. “After all, it’s my party.”
“And a fine chance I’d have to pull you up if you fell over, you human elephant. Here goes — catch hold.”
I had just time to grip his ankles as he wriggled17 over the stone, and his head and shoulders passed from sight. On he went, slowly writhing18 along the slanting19 rock until my hands and arms were hidden to the shoulders. He paused — and then from the mysterious opacity20 in which he had vanished came a roar of crazy laughter.
I felt him twist and try to jerk his feet away from me. I pulled him, fighting against me every inch of the way, out upon the stone. He came out roaring that same mad laughter. His face was red, and his eyes were shining drunkenly; he had in fact all the symptoms of a laughing drunk. But the rapidity of his respiration21 told me what had happened.
“Breathe slowly,” I shouted in his ear. “Breathe slowly, I tell you.”
And then, as his laughter continued and his struggles to tear loose did not abate22, I held him down with one arm and dosed his nose and mouth with my hand. In a moment or two he relaxed. I released him; and he sat up groggily23.
“Funniest things,” he said, thickly. “Saw funniest faces . . . .”
He shook his head, took a deep breath or two, and lay back on the stone.
“What the hell happened to me, Leif?”
“You had an oxygen bun, Indian,” I said. “A nice cheap jag on air loaded with carbon-dioxide. And that explains a lot of things about this place. You came up breathing three to the second, which is what carbon-dioxide does to you. Works on the respiratory centres of the brain and speeds up respiration. You took in more oxygen than you could use, and you got drunk on it. What did you see before the world became so funny?”
“I saw you,” he said. “And the sky. It was like looking up out of water. I looked down and around. A little below me was something like a floor of pale green mist. I couldn’t see through it. It’s warm in there, good and plenty warm, and it smells like trees and flowers. That’s all I managed to grasp before I went goofy. Oh, yes, this rock fall keeps right on going down. Maybe we can get to the bottom of it — if we don’t laugh ourselves off. I’m going right out and sit in that mirage up to my neck — my God, Leif, I’m freezing!”
I looked at him with concern. His lips were blue, his teeth chattering24. The transition from the warmth to the bitter cold was having its effect, and a dangerous one.
“All right,” I said, rising. “I’ll go first. Breathe slowly, take deep, long breaths as slowly as you can, and breathe out just as slowly. You’ll soon get used to it. Come on.”
I slung25 the remaining pack over my back, craw-fished over the side of the stone, felt solid rock under my feet, and drew myself down within the mirage.
It was warm enough; almost as warm as the steam-room of a Turkish bath. I looked up and saw the sky above me like a circle of blue, misty26 at its edges. Then I saw Jim’s legs dropping down toward me, his body bent27 back from them at an impossible angle. I was seeing him, in fact, about as a fish does an angler wading28 in its pool. His body seemed to telescope and he was squatting29 beside me.
“God, but this feels good!”
“Don’t talk,” I told him. “Just sit here and practise that slow breathing. Watch me.”
We sat there, silently, for all of half an hour. No sound broke the stillness around us. It smelled of the jungle, of fast growing vigorous green life, and green life falling as swiftly into decay; and there were elusive30, alien fragrances31. All I could see was the circle of blue sky above, and perhaps a hundred feet below us the pale green mist of which Jim had spoken. It was like a level floor of cloud, impenetrable to the vision. The rock-fall entered it and was lost to sight. I felt no discomfort32, but both of us were dripping with sweat. I watched with satisfaction Jim’s deep, unhurried breathing.
“Having any trouble?” I asked at last.
“Not much. Now and then I have to put the pedal down. But I think I’m getting the trick.”
“All right,” I said. “Soon we’ll be moving. I don’t believe it will get any worse as we go down.”
“You talk like an old-timer. What’s your idea of this place anyway, Leif?”
“Simple enough. Although the combination hasn’t a chance in millions to be duplicated. Here is a wide, deep valley entirely33 hemmed34 in by precipitous clifis. It is, in effect, a pit. The mountains enclosing it are seamed with glaciers35 and ice streams and there is a constant flow of cold air into this pit, even in summer. There is probably volcanic36 activity close beneath the valley’s floor, boiling springs and the like. It may be a miniature of the Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes over to the west All this produces an excess of carbon-dioxide. There is most probably a lush vegetation which adds to the product. What we are going into is likely to be a little left-over fragment of the Carboniferous Age — about ten million years out of its time. The warm, heavy air fills the pit until it reaches the layer of cold air we’ve just come from. The mirage is produced where the two meet, by approximately the same causes which produce every mirage. How long it’s been this way. God alone knows. Parts of Alaska never had a Glacial Age — the ice for some reason or another didn’t cover them. When what is New York was under a thousand feet of ice, the Yukon Flats were an oasis37 filled with all sorts of animal and plant life. If this valley existed then, we’re due to see some strange survivals. If it’s comparatively recent, we’ll probably run across some equally interesting adaptations. That’s about all, except there must be an outlet38 of some kind somewhere at about this level, otherwise the warm air would fill the whole valley to the top, as gas does a tank. Let’s be going.”
“I begin to hope we find the guns,” said Jim, thoughtfully.
“As you pointed39 out, they’d be no good against Khalk’ru — what, who, if and where he is,” I said. “But they’d be handy against his attendant devils. Keep an eye out for them — I mean the guns.”
We started down the rock-fall, toward the floor of green mist. The going was not very difficult. We reached the mist without having seen anything of rifles or packs. The mist looked like a heavy fog. We entered it, and that was precisely40 what it was. It closed around us, thick and warm. The rocks were reeking41 wet and slippery, and we had to feel for every foot of the way. Twice I thought our numbers were up. How deep that mist was, I could not tell, perhaps two or three hundred feet — a condensation42 brought about by the peculiar43 atmospheric44 conditions that produced the mirage.
The mist began to lighten. It maintained its curious green tint45, but I had the idea that this was due to reflection from below. Suddenly it thinned to nothing. We came out of it upon a breast where the falling rocks had met some obstruction46 and had piled up into a barrier about thrice my height. We climbed that barrier.
We looked upon the valley beneath the mirage.
It lay a full thousand feet beneath us. It was filled with pale green light like that in a deep forest glade47. That light was both lucent and vaporous, lucent where we stood, but hiding the distance with misty curtains of pallid48 emerald. To the north and on each side as far as I could see, and melting into the vaporous emerald curtains, was a vast carpet of trees. Their breath came pulsing up to me, jungle-strong, laden49 with the unfamiliar50 fragrances. At left and right, the black cliffs fell sheer to the forest edge.
“Listen!” Jim caught my arm.
At first only a faint tapping, then louder and louder, we heard from far away the beating of drums, scores of drums, in a strange staccato rhythm — shrill51, mocking, jeering52! But they were no drums of Khalk’ru! In them was nothing of that dreadful trampling53 of racing54 feet upon a hollow world.
They ceased. As though in answer, and from an entirely different direction, there was a fanfarade of trumpets55, menacing, warlike. If brazen56 notes could curse, these did. Again the drums broke forth57, still mocking, taunting58, defiant59.
“Little drums,” Jim was whispering. “Drums of —” He dropped down from the rocks, and I followed. The barrier led to the east, dipping steadily60 downward. We followed its base. It stood like a great wall between us and the valley, barring our vision. We heard the drums no more. We descended61 five hundred feet at least before the barrier ended. At its end was another rock slide like that down which the rifles and pack had fallen.
We stood studying it. It descended at an angle of about forty-five degrees, and while not so smooth as the other, it had few enough foot-holds.
The air had steadily grown warmer. I’; was not an uncomfortable heat; there was a queer tingling62 life about it, an exhalation of the crowding forest or of the valley itself, I thought. It gave me a feeling of rampant63, reckless life, a heady exaltation. The pack had grown tiresome64. If we were to negotiate the slide, and there seemed nothing else to do, I couldn’t very well carry it. I unslung it.
“Letter of introduction” I said, and sent it slithering down the rock.
“Breathe deep and slow, you poor ass,” said Jim, and laughed.
His eyes were bright; he looked happy, like a man from whom some burden of fear and doubt has fallen. He looked, in fact, as I had felt when I had taken up that challenge of the unknown not so long before. And I wondered.
The slithering pack gave a little leap, and dropped completely out of sight. Evidently the slide did not go all the way to the valley floor, or, if so, it continued at a sharper angle at the point of the pack’s disappearance65.
I let myself over cautiously, and began to worm down the slide flat on my belly66, Jim following. We had negotiated about three-quarters of it when I heard him shout. Then his falling body struck me. I caught him with one hand, but it broke my own precarious67 hold. We went rolling down the slide and dropped into space. I felt a jarring shock, and abruptly went completely out.
收听单词发音 |
1
nibbled
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的过去式和过去分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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viscous
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| adj.粘滞的，粘性的 | |
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viscosity
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| n.粘度，粘性 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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opaque
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| adj.不透光的；不反光的，不传导的；晦涩的 | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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tingle
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| vi.感到刺痛，感到激动；n.刺痛，激动 | |
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numbed
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| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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mirage
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| n.海市蜃楼，幻景 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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opacity
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| n.不透明；难懂 | |
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respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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abate
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| vi.(风势，疼痛等)减弱，减轻，减退 | |
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groggily
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| adv.酒醉地；东倒西歪地 | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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25
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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wading
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的现在分词 ) | |
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squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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fragrances
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| n.芳香，香味( fragrance的名词复数 )；香水 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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glaciers
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| 冰河，冰川( glacier的名词复数 ) | |
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volcanic
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| adj.火山的；象火山的；由火山引起的 | |
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oasis
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| n.（沙漠中的）绿洲，宜人的地方 | |
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outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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39
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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41
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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condensation
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| n.压缩，浓缩；凝结的水珠 | |
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43
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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atmospheric
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| adj.大气的，空气的；大气层的；大气所引起的 | |
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45
tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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46
obstruction
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| n.阻塞，堵塞；障碍物 | |
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47
glade
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| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
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48
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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49
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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50
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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51
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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52
jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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53
trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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54
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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55
trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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56
brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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58
taunting
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| 嘲讽( taunt的现在分词 )； 嘲弄； 辱骂； 奚落 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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60
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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61
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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62
tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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63
rampant
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| adj.(植物)蔓生的；狂暴的，无约束的 | |
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64
tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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66
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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