Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 39, Number 39, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 January 1907 — The Child of the Cave [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Child of the Cave

By FRANK BARRETT

* w * CHAPTER VII. : “~«fngsT*S*th- "«**• already iwarly ex-:„ haustet} by the exertion of pulling my self up front the bottom of the simft; the last few fEwrbetng made with painful slowness! I had jet six-or eight feet to ascend before gaining the level of the mouth, and then, from my inability to leave hold of the Tope, 1 should be entirely at the mercy of the furious old man A blow with the knife would cut my fingers away and send in<f hurling to the bottom, or be might . holding the rope with one Mbd; detiberai .1 v cut the Strands with the oilier, which he could well do before I raised ntrself another foot. The only possible way by’which I could save my life was to Jet the cord slip through my hand, and bv thus preventing him backing it twice in the same place reach the bottom before he achieved his object. The next instant the cord wif running through my hands as fast as I dared to i>ay it out. _ Txtoking up I saw old Peter slashing away vigorously, the blade of his knife flashing at each Stroke as it was turned by the running rope, —A ery of .delight and surprise , from Psyche shoived me I was nearing the bridge, and the next moment 1 stood upon the plank- Almost simultaneously the —tone was mi. nn.l the two lengths swept, down. The one way of escape was closed. 1 was too agitated at the time to realize the full significance of this incident, or the gravity of my position; indeed 1 had reason to congratulate myself on my present escape from immediate destruction, and in finding myself, o:\ce more -in the cave, safe, 1 was hardly less lighthearted than Psyche. Rut 1 was terribly shaken I could scarcely steady my hand to hold, a match and strike it. Thecandle in the bucket lead fallen tvnd gone, out in tli*- descent, but I had still another in my pocket, nad, having lit this. ,1 eagerly sought the pitcher of water, for besides the feeling of faintness, my mouth was gluey with the fever of excitenieut. To my consternation, I discovered that a fragment, shaken from the well, had fallen on the pitcher and broken it. Psyche, seeing the trouble in my .face, looked about eagerly, and with a cry of joy found about a cupful of water iu the broken shoulder of the crock, -and this she would have had me drink; but I mu touch it imu'l she had taken her

we might ever Vf old Peter wiNhed to preserve his seerM, 'a sure and certain means was within his N reach... He had but to rinse the month of the well "and leave tut here to- starve, lu a week—less than that, perhajvs—ene'or bith of ns must die. and with us non Id die the knowledge of his . villainy. I could see no reason for his hesitating to take this course. Certainly no consideration of humanity or kin would ■top him; he had already proved that by his murderous attempt upon my life. This reflection made me marvel why the two old rascals had risked discovery by keeping Psyche alive so many years, her existence costing them a certain outlay, and necessarily continual anxiety, with no obvious return. I could lik upon no clue to this mystery. I sat upon the block that served Psyche . for » table completely engrossed by these thoughts till she reminded me of her presence by a light touch. I was greatly moved by her mute appeal for recognition. and made up my mind to think •loud; for though she might not understand one word of what 1 said, the mere sound of my voice and the nocess ity of turning to mldress her would preclude her feeling:excluded from my consideration. “lou see. Psyche,” 1 began, *‘l am down here for good and all, and just n,s much a prisoner as you are. 1 don t think we may count on any mercy from those two \\ irked old rascals above, and our only ho;»e lies in our own efforts enabling us to escape from these terrible caverns. And a small hope that is; for as to getting out the way we came in. that's out of the question. If we do escape. It will be by the sea front. But how we are to do it 1 don't know. There must be thirty or forty feet of chalk to cut our way through, even if we chance to hit upon the best place to work at, and ■ay that we made as much as a foot a day there’s thirty or forty days’ work. But we’Ve got no food. Psyche, and under starvation we shall get weaker and weaker each day, and I reckon that before n week's out we shall have neither ktrength nor courage to <?ut a siugle inch In the day. Still i:‘s no”good despairing before wo begin, and if we are to do anything we must look on the best side of things and go shoot our work hopefully. So now, first of all. let us see what resources we have got.”

I rose to my feet, and so did she with alacrity, and cs I looked at the remnants of her dinner on the table she took up the piece of bread left by the jackdaw and offered it lot me.-- I took it to the hole where she kept her food. There was the •lice of pork I, had sent down «mi « fendry crusts. J “Caw,” she explained, pointing to them. "No. we can't let caw have them.” said 1. shaking my head, "they are for Psyche and me,” touching her and myself. She seemed to understand, for when I put the morsel of bread she had given me iuto the hole she blocked it tip tirade with the stone, laughing, an-1 then turned to me for approval. "And now. P.sjehe, tko will look about fend ace where we have the Wist chance of •■cape—if any chance tot re l«e “ At thigl meiuent h noise, echoing down the abaft, Struck onr cars, i took Psyche's hand, and we w*nt through the, tunnel. When I looked up I founJ that the light was no longer visible, the cover had been replaced, and the hammering sound we heard told plainly enough that old Peter was making good the part 1 had split. “Bom, bom, bom,” said Psyche, laugh lag.

“It's a happy thing for you, my poor ,Jrttle comrade, .that you don't know wjiat -that sound means,saltTX “ThoieTiTowS ’ might tell you plain enough that he's made up his mind what our fate shall be. Come away. It’s like hearing the nails being driven into our coffin.” When we got back into the cave I blew out the light. "Mustn't begin hy being careless. Psyche. It won't do to burn candle. We may be glad to eat it- before long.” I groped about in the dark for the store hole ; but when I explained what I wanted by saying, "CftWPsyche at once per-ceived-wy-ebject, and led me to the place. “I shall have to get used to this darkness,” said I; “at present I can distinguish nothing. You must be my eyes.” I was silenced for a minute or so by a feeling <j>f utter helplessness in the obscurity... Psyche filled up ilie interval

..with some little noises of her .own. prompted doubtless by the same motive that had led me to speak whatever came into my mind. "Yes, that's very true, Psyche,” said I, when she stopped, "but where are we? Shall I ever be able to see through the darkness? Heaven help us, what are we to do? There’s the hatchet.in the bucket - might as well hack away at something directly as stand here idle. Rut how can 1 find the way to the tunnel, or make you understand that I want to go there? Wait a bit —Bom, bom, bom ! Psyche—do you understand me-—boih, bom, bom!” She replied "in a cheerful rone and led me carefully' along until'l feit the brick* work of the passage; advancing with still greater cart? I reached the shaft ami got the hatchet apd knife out of the bucket, ami I thought.it as well to take the bucket ami ropes in case I might find use for them. Psyche helped me to haul the ropes along, and to amuse heir I saug a chant that I have heard at the capstan as the sailbrs heave up the anchor. Psyche was in ecstasies over this, and to hear us singing, and laughing as vve hauled the rope along one would liqve thought we had not a care in the world. “Well, now, where are vve and what are we to do next ?” I asked*, as Psyche came to a standstill. “Oh, my child, dujn'L. ltuighV....-I can’t stand it.” The appeal came from my heart involuntarily, •for our mirth in the midst of this terri--Lda_oh.scm-irv nyereame me Hhe the sing-

CHAPTER VIII. N ‘‘Psyche, it’s not a bit of good thinking aßout working in this cave,” said I. when I had brought myself into 1 a practical state of mind again. “The firs! blow might bring another avalanche down on us. and one's enough in a day. It's still less a bit of good making any attempt in French Peter's cave, for, to begin with, I don’t care to risk my neck in scaling the slope without a light,' and candles are too precious to born ; and secondly, those blocks would be found more treacherous to work on than these before us. Very well, then, if we cannot attempt anything in these two caves, there remains only your bedchamber to go atT That is certainly the safest of the three, and I think we can chop away at the cliff there till we cant chop any longer, with fear of dying by anything worse than starvation. ™ Now, how can I tell you that I want to be led into the/little cave. Psyche? Do you know what/his means? 'Splash, splash, dabble dabble, splash i' You're a better thought re/plor than ever I've known," 1 added, aV she began to lead me along, with a putl of satisfaction in recognizing my wish.

I had not been in this cave before without a candle, and it surprised me now to find how much lighter it was than p expected. 1 could make out the form of Psyche, and when we came immediately below the strip of blue I could here distinguish her features, although the opening through which the light came was a mere crack. The tide had ebbed, and there was no longer a pool in the cavity, but Psyche running down the. bottom and scooping away a few handfuls of sand showed me that there was still water not far below the surface. 1 was sorry to see this, for it had occurred to me on seeing the water gone that we might be able to tunnel under the rock instead of through it. and so make our escape by the shore. Still there was hope that the tide was not yet at its lowest. I looked up to see if it might be practicable to get to the opening, and by enlarging it to escape thence. But the mouth of this cave was closed, not by a mass of rubble and scattered blocks as in the others, but by a clean cat mass sloping outward Mow, and presenting no irregularities that would facilitate climbing. The walls of the cave again which it had ground its way in falling, arched over and were even more impracticable. The opening was. as 1 reckoned, fifty over our heads. “If that great heap of rubbish in the next cave were only piled up here. -Psyche." said I. finding that I had laps ed into silence.

She answered by rubbing her cheek against nty shoulder and inurintiring some unintelligible sounds. “But it isn’t, and we have to do without it somehow. We might drag it in little by little, to be sure, but it would take ns months to make a piie that would reach to that*opening, and I’m afraid we have not got months to live. If we dared to pull down one of the timbers that shore up the roof in the big cave, with a view to notching it for a ladder, I'm not sure that we could drag it in here; but I aim sure that we could never ser it up on end. So that's no good, is it? No, we •nust either cut through the chalk or burrow under it. Now, supposing we tap it all the way along, and see if any one !>art sounds leas solid than the other.’” We went to the extreme end on one side, and with the’ back of the* hatchet 1 knocked upon the face ol (he chalk

till w? reached the other end. It amnaed Psyche, but it me, for I could make out ho difference in the sound nnytvherc. ;. • , __ - “It doesn’t matter where we begin, Psyche. We shall just make a mark to show some future discoverer where we tried to escape before we lay down to die, and that’s all.” "That'S all,” she said, catching the words and echoing my mournful tone. ....... “.jVelf, here goes for a beginning,” said I, in desperation; and disengaging her hands from my own, I gave a cut at the chalk with my ax. Chipping first of all a square about two feet each way, which I considered sufficiently lafge for qs 'to wriggle through if ever we got the chance, I worked on 'steadily till I was tired out. Psyche Btood by looking on in silence whHa. I was engaged; bnt the moment I lajd down the ax she took it up'and car--" ried on the work; nor would she give up

the ax until her strength would go ne . further. “Well done, Psyche? you are a brave little helpmate,” said I; but when I-took the ax from her hand I felt l that she was trembling with exhaustion, and her arms and face were wet with perspiration. I wiped her face gently with my handker chief and made her sit down by my side with words of sympathy and admiratior that-sprang from my heart- As for her. •I believe that this was the happiest houi of her life, for she eooed with delight at she nestled close to my side. We had been working the best part of an hour, I imagined, and the sky overhead was getting dark, from which I concluded it must be about seven o'clock, it being now the end of March. “We have done enough for to-day Psyche." said I, greatly elated by oui

progress, "and you have done admirably —quite as much as I have. I daresay we’ve knocked the hole six inches deep between us. That’s good. One thin? I perceive now that I might have foreseen at first. We haven't got -it -large enough by two-thirds. We may have fifty feet of the stuff to work through and we must, therefore, make the hole big enough to stand upright afid work in That's discouraging, but we won't think of it, will we?” She attempted to respond, but her voice had lost its clear sweetness, and was husky and thick. My own voice rasped my throat; but the knowledge that she was already suffering from thirst was harder to bear than my own craving, and the .anticipation of what she must yet suffer S fore the end came.mandenedmfrr tv** We; must have water,” f-oried in desperation. "What can I do?” She nestled yet closer to my arm, as if to comfbrt me in my evident distress. Suddenly I remembered the water at tlie bottom of the well, and the bucket • and rope I had in the next cave. I sprang to my feet, and, raised my little comrade. And then, striking a match, hurried info the great cave and seized the bucket. The" mdteh Went out, but I lit another, feeling that we might be prodigal at such a time. Wc wenFdo the edge of the w-!!. and I drew up a bucketful of water and put it to my lips; it was brackish, fetii and undrinkable. I struck my head with

bad any kind of a filter it might be reu- 5 dered sweet and wholesome. "Come along, little one, ’ [ said, “we’ll see what we can do." and The light being out I left her to guide me back to the cave. Put now, though it seemed to me no darker than it had been in the earlier part of the day, there was % difference, and Psyche, who could not see in absolute darkness, had to feel her way back. 1 got out our precious candle and lit it, and choosing a suitable lump of chalk, 1 hollowed it out quickly with the ax! Setting it firmly between three stones I it with water from the bucket, and set that piece of the crock in which we had found water underneath to catch the drops as they filtered through. Then I blew out the light, knowing (fiat we must wait some time for any result. After waiting as I guessed best part of an hour. 1 lit a match; the water was gone from the hollow, but not a drop had fallen into the crock, the chalk having .absorbed it. When I looked at Psyche she smiled, and putting her finger to her throat signified that she was no longer thirsty. My own thirst Lad subsided somewhat, for it was the heat of our ex-, ertions and the dust from the chalk that had made us so dry. and fearing that after all the water might not be drinkable, I thought it better that we should now lie down and try to sleep, with a view to rising early to begin work again. (To be continued.)