“Jones,” replied the castaway rather stiffly. He was a trifle tired of the disdainful attitude which every one except the cowboy had so far assumed toward him. “Roland C. Jones.”
“Mr. Roland C. Jones, I salute2 you.” Holloway bowed very low and straightened with a laugh. “Did you leave any last will and testament3 with his serene4 and nihilistic highness when he sent you over here? Because, you know, it’s just possible that something might happen to you inside. You’ve no idea how wonderfully exciting ‘inside’ is, Mr. Jones. Don’t let me alarm you, though.”
Jones laughed almost hysterically5. “It can’t be much more exciting than — than everything else,” he said. “And as for getting killed, I’m beginning to have a suspicion that that’s the best thing which could happen to me.”
He was thinking of his own mental condition, but Holloway understood him differently.
“So bad as that?” he asked with mock commiseration6. “No home? No friends? Somebody cooked your chestnuts7 for you? Never mind, sweet child. We’ll buy you some more — if we ever get off Joker Island. Coming, Prince?” he called back, as a voice hailed him from the little camp. “Come on, Jimmy; and you, too, Rolly! You don’t mind if I call you Rolly? I feel in my heart that we’re going to be friends, Rolly, and what’s a name between pals8?”
“I don’t care what you call me,” replied Mr. Jones, smiling in spite of himself. After all, there was something very likeable about this impertinent, goodnatured fellow. He felt that he could get along very nicely if he had nobody but the cowboy and Richard Holloway to deal with.
They found the rest of the party eating a very informal breakfast, consisting of hardtack, a few rashers of bacon, and some really excellent coffee. Jones received his share thankfully. He could not remember a time when he had been so hungry, or hungry so often, as in the few hours since he had come to Joker Island.
Then the fire was extinguished; what provisions were left and some simple impedimenta were divided equally among the men, and the expedition started with only Miss Weston unburdened. She tripped lightly along beside her Russian admirer, apparently9 as merry and light-hearted as if they were bound on a picnic.
Dawn had come upon them with extraordinary suddenness as they ate, it seemed to Mr. Jones. There had been a few moments of ghostly twilight10. Then the sun leaped into the sky, like a tiger springing from its lair11, and flung at them his first rays with an ardor12 which promised insufferable heat later on.
Now that it was light, Jones perceived that the ravine, or split in the cliff wall, ended abruptly13 just beyond the camp. There the precipice14 towered as forbidding and unscalable as it hung above the outer beach. The little stream sprang from a mere15 crevice16 in the otherwise solid wall. There were certainly no caverns17 in that direction, and he was not surprised when Holloway, in his capacity of guide, led the way back down the ravine toward the sea; but he did wonder how they could emerge upon the beach without being seen by the nihilists.
They had followed the watercourse only a short distance, however, when Holloway turned aside and led them into a yet narrower crack in the rocks which branched off from the main ravine. The going became more and more difficult, and Paul Petrofsky was obliged to almost carry the girl over some places, while the rest of the party scrambled19 and sweated and swore sotto voce.
At last the crack widened; they caught a glimpse of blue beyond, and in another moment they came out upon a part of the beach which was cut off by a jutting20 promontory21 of rock from the small bay where the Monterey lay anchored. Jones thought that a bird’s-eye view of that island must show the cliff to be fairly scalloped with little bays and promontories22.
And here the black rock was honeycombed with dark holes, bored out either by the sea or by volcanic23 agency; some of them no more than a foot or so across, a few large enough so that a motor-truck could have been safely driven in.
“This is only the beginning of ’em,” declared Holloway, addressing Petrofsky, but in loud enough tones to be heard by all. “Half way ‘round the island the rock is fairly-perforated. Some place for a tribe of cave men, no?”
Then, suddenly assuming the manner of a tourist guide: “Just step this way, lady and gentlemen. Here you may behold24 the finest — oldest — most dog-gonedest aggregation25 of black holes — ”
His voice died away and became indistinguishable, for he had dropped to hands and knees and crawled into one of the smaller caverns.
Petrofsky, pausing only to draw an electric torch from his pocket, immediately followed, and close upon his heels crept Miss Margaret Weston. To Jones’s amazement26, the girl was laughing just before she disappeared. He could not have laughed himself to win a medal. However, Jim Haskins and the two sailors were looking at him expectantly.
There was nothing else for it, so he, too, dropped to his knees and crawled into the hole, pushing ahead of him the small bundle which had been assigned him to carry. He wondered bitterly if they were to crawl all the way through the cliff.
Ahead of him he could see a moving black mass against a dim glow of light, which he knew to be the intrepid27 Miss Weston, of Boston, Massachusetts. Jones had no light himself, and was too far behind the leaders to get any benefit from theirs. The rock was wet and a trifle slimy. He thought of snakes, but remembered gratefully that if there were any they would have a good chance to bite three people before they got to him.
Behind, he could hear a grunting28 and scraping, and knew the other three were following.
Then the glow ahead abruptly disappeared, and there was a scrambling29, thumping30 sound. Had Holloway and the Russian fallen into some abyss? He halted, but immediately after heard a voice calling, “Come ahead! It’s all right! Oh, what a perfectly31 lovely, splendid place!”
It was the voice of Margaret Weston, and a moment later Mr. Jones scrambled out of the narrow hole into an enormous, scintillating32 cavern18. The lights of two electric torches were reflected dazzlingly from a million fiery33 points.
“What perfectly gorgeous stalactites!” exclaimed the girl rapturously. “Oh, Mr. Holloway, I’m so glad you found this place! It’s worth anything just to have seen it. Why, if it were not so hard to reach, this would be one of the show places of the world, would it not?”
“It would,” admitted the flattered Mr. Holloway. “But I only wish I could let some sunlight into the hole for you. I’ve taken some pieces of this stuff out, and in daylight they are all colors of the rainbow. Look like stuff out of a jeweller’s window. The colors don’t show up in this light.”
“Thank you, but it’s quite beautiful enough as it is.”
Even Jones had to admit to himself that Miss Weston was, in a measure, right. Above their heads was a black void. The roof was too high and probably too dark in color for their lights to show it, but all about them, depending almost to the floor, hung a thousand icicle-points, which reflected the electric rays as if they had been encrusted with diamonds. From the floor, also, rose points and mounds35 of brilliant crystals. This lower forest of stalagmites seemed to extend itself indefinitely, certainly beyond range of the torches.
“Dick Holloway,” said the prince, “this is fairyland to which you have brought us. The air, too, which I had thought would be almost poisonous, it is fresh. It smells of the sea. There must be many more openings into this place than that by which we entered.”
“There probably are,” agreed Holloway, “but I’d hate to hunt for them. I was lost in these caves once — that was the way I happened to locate the way through — but I’d hate to risk it twice.”
“But tell me,” continued the prince, gazing upward curiously36, “is there no danger from the falling of some of these huge masses from the roof?”
“Sure thing there is. But — Jimmy, there goes a beauty right this minute!”
There was an ominous37 crackling sound, the mild forerunner38 of a thunderous, deafening39 crash. The air was filled with a cloud of choking white dust, through which the torches gleamed faintly as through a fog. The noise was followed by a series of lesser40 crashes. Then came again the calm, unagitated voice of Holloway.
“Did that hit anybody? If it did, farewell to the dear departed. Is every one here?”
One by one the little party answered with their names, Jones last, and in a voice which he rendered steady with some effort. He had always known that caverns would be just like this. For a moment he had been deceived by the treacherous41 beauty of this one, but no more. Surely they would turn back now. Nobody could expect to pass through this place where at any moment a thousand pounds of glittering stalactite was liable to drop on him — It was the voice of Miss Weston which answered his unspoken thought.
“Well, there is no need of our standing42 here, is there? How in the world can you find your way, Mr. Holloway?”
“Been here before,” replied that gentleman cheerfully. “Know it like the streets of my hometown. Come along.”
By this time the white dust had somewhat settled, and Jones could see his companions clearly. They were starting off single file between the innumerable stalagmites, apparently careless of disaster. On an impulse he crouched43 down behind a white mound34.
Jim Haskins passed within hand’s reach, but did not see him in the shadow. The two sailors were a little behind, and on a sudden thought Jones cautiously pushed his bundle of miscellaneous camp articles out from behind his mound.
An instant later one of the sailors stumbled over it, and as Jones had craftily44 foreseen, imagined that it had been dropped by one of the men ahead. Grumbling45, the man picked it up and added it to his own load, and with no thought for a possible escaping prisoner, passed on.
In fact, nobody gave Mr. Jones a thought. He was alone, neglected and forsaken46, and the fact gave him supreme47 relief. He had looked carefully, while there was still sufficient light, and a seen a black hole yawning, the hole by which they had entered this place of terror. Having honestly restored to his captors the goods with which he had been entrusted48, Mr. Jones felt no scruples49 about deserting them.
Just before the last gleam of light from the electric torches faded and disappeared, Mr. Jones plunged50 back into the small tunnel and began rapidly wriggling51 his way toward open air and the blessed light of day.
Somehow or other the passage seemed much longer than when he had come that way at the heels of the Boston girl. Jones crawled and crawled, until his knees and elbows were sore, but still he could see no gleam of light ahead. It seemed to him that he had been crawling for hours. What could be the matter?
Suddenly the horrifying52 explanation dawned upon him. This was not the tunnel by which they had entered, but another of the labyrinthine53 system of caves to which Holloway had referred!
Mr. Jones stopped crawling and tried to turn himself about. There was not room enough, however, and he only hurt himself still more upon the slimy rock. There was no use in trying to wriggle54 backward, for he knew that he would become exhausted55 before he could ever regain56 the cave of stalactites by such a laborious57 process. Besides, he reflected, even if be did get back there he would be no better off. Surrounded by impenetrable midnight darkness, how could he hope to rediscover the passage he had been unable to identify while there was light?
With a sinking heart he contemplated58 the many hours of mental and physical suffering which lay before him if he should fail to extricate59 himself. He must go on. What a fool he had been to desert the party of adventurers! After all, they were kindly60, honest folk and it would have been far better to have died suddenly by the fall of a stalactite, or in some merciful abyss, than here alone in the darkness of the damned.
He must get out! And when “must” drives, a man will do a great deal more than appears possible. Roland C. Jones did. He crawled literally61 for hours, turning, winding62 with the tunnel, like an unhappy and desolate63 angle-worm in the black bosom64 of Earth.
Once, exhausted, he let himself subside65, and despite all the terrors of darkness went to sleep. He had not slept for v. long time, and when he awoke, though he ached in every limb, he felt refreshed and took new courage to crawl on.
Crawling is a slow process — at least, for a human being — but if a man crawl far enough, and encounters no obstruction66, he is bound to get somewhere sometime, and that is what happened to Mr. Jones. He had long since given up all hope, and become a mere, dogged crawling-machine, when it happened. It was a tremendous thing and an experience which in all his after-life he never forgot. He saw the rock beneath him!
Then he raised his head, hopefully, prayerfully, and there, far ahead, beamed a glorious star of light!
Then did Mr. Jones perform prodigies67 of crawling. As if he had just started, he wriggled68 and scrambled along, and at last actually emerged from the black womb of death into the adorable, intolerable brilliance69 of day. Also into the very arms of Doherty, his former rescuer!
Behind Doherty stood Captain Ivanovitch, and beside him was Sergius Petrofsky. Mr. Jones had crawled windingly through the rock, all the way from behind the promontory, around the end of the ravine, and back to the little bay whereon the Monterey still lay at anchor.
He had expected anything — but not this. In the eternity70 which had elapsed since entering that black rat-hole he had forgotten that such a person as Sergius Petrofsky existed. His clothing was ripped to slimy rags. In a dozen places his body and limbs were scraped raw, he was faint and sick for lack of food and drink — and before him stood the man who had promised to torture him that day. The villainies of Fate were too prodigious71.
Mr. Jones slipped suddenly from the sustaining grip of Doherty, and dropped in a wretched heap upon the sand.
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1
bugs
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| adj.疯狂的，发疯的n.窃听器( bug的名词复数 )；病菌；虫子；[计算机]（制作软件程序所产生的意料不到的）错误 | |
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2
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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3
testament
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| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
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4
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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5
hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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commiseration
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| n.怜悯，同情 | |
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7
chestnuts
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| n.栗子( chestnut的名词复数 )；栗色；栗树；栗色马 | |
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8
pals
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| n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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11
lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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13
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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14
precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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15
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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16
crevice
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| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
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17
caverns
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| 大山洞，大洞穴( cavern的名词复数 ) | |
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cavern
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| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
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19
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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20
jutting
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| v.（使）突出( jut的现在分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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promontory
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| n.海角；岬 | |
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promontories
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| n.岬，隆起，海角( promontory的名词复数 ) | |
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23
volcanic
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| adj.火山的；象火山的；由火山引起的 | |
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24
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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aggregation
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| n.聚合，组合；凝聚 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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intrepid
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| adj.无畏的，刚毅的 | |
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grunting
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| 咕哝的，呼噜的 | |
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scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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30
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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31
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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32
scintillating
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| adj．才气横溢的,闪闪发光的; 闪烁的 | |
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33
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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34
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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35
mounds
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| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
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36
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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forerunner
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| n.前身，先驱（者），预兆，祖先 | |
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39
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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40
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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41
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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42
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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43
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
craftily
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| 狡猾地，狡诈地 | |
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45
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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46
Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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47
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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48
entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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50
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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51
wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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52
horrifying
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| a.令人震惊的，使人毛骨悚然的 | |
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53
labyrinthine
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| adj.如迷宫的；复杂的 | |
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54
wriggle
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| v./n.蠕动，扭动；蜿蜒 | |
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55
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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56
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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57
laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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58
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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59
extricate
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| v.拯救，救出；解脱 | |
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60
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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61
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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62
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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63
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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64
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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65
subside
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| vi.平静，平息；下沉，塌陷，沉降 | |
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66
obstruction
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| n.阻塞，堵塞；障碍物 | |
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67
prodigies
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| n.奇才，天才（尤指神童）( prodigy的名词复数 ) | |
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68
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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69
brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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70
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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71
prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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