Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 39, Number 41, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 January 1907 — The Child of the Cave [ARTICLE]

The Child of the Cave

By FRANK BARRETT

CHAPTER Vlll.—(Continued.) I relit the candle and. taking Psyche into the next cave, pointed to her alcove and hade her lie down. .At the same time as she had a great thickness of the hay and straw sent down from tinn to time for her use, I took an armful for my own use and hade her good-night. She seeined puzzled apd disappointed for a minute at the separation which she saw I intended, but, when I spoke gravely a ndpoln t< d a g.t int <> tho all ove she accepted my bidding and. having given try hand —one—last -ea-Fess- wit h- her cheek, ran to-the alcovp and threw hyt" self down. I made myself comfortable in the sand in the next cave, and, having" refilled the hollowed chalk to the brim, blew out the light, lint it was a long while before I could go to sleep' for thinking over the means of escape_niid trying to devise some better expedient than the laborious one_sfjcntting through an unknown quantity of chalk, and it must have been nearly daybreak when 1 at last fell asleep. It was broad daylight When I awoke, as I knew by the faint glimmer in the small cave which revealed the outline of -the opening. —— “There's no need to Wake the poor child.” thought I. as my .mind turned to Psyche. Naturally* my first thought wasof the Water—l had to filter, and I should certainly have sprung up to examine the rock but for the uwful dread of finding thewater impure. While I lay there fearing to put this question to the touch I became conscious of sonlething warm, and turning my eyes now accustomed to the semi-light diffused through the cave, I perceived Psyche coiled up beside my litter, her face against my head. My heart melted with this testimony of affection—the more because it showed such ignorance of civilization and was so purely instinctive. She was not asleep, and at the slight movement of my head she rose on her knees and. looking down into my open eyes, sung her little elfish song over me. Jt was so sweet and weird and unnatural that a sudden terror seized me, as I imagined it might be the first sign of the madness that comes with insufferable thirst. I sprang up and. striking a light, held the match with trembling fingers to the crock. It was full to overflowing, and the water was bright and erausnarent. 1 put my lips to the edge and. finding it sweet and good, lifted it with a cry of joy to my dear little friend's mouth. She drank eagerly, and yet ihere was enough left to slake my bur ling thirst. "Thank heaven 1” I cried, in the fv.ll M ness of my joy. “Now we shall live, and live to beat those old rascals, after all.”

CHAPTER IX. Now that wd had water in abundance I became reekless, and dividiiii our little store of hard (rusts we ate ail at one meal, leaving nothing eatable in the store hole—except the end of a candle. Then, having set more water in the filter, we went into the small cave and on'ir.ued the work we had began the night before, enlarging the cutting to throe feet in.'width and six feet in height. In this occupation we hacked on >vi,hout intermission. turn and turn abo.tr. until midday, and then after the last bout, feeling sick and faint for want of proper food. 1 would not let Psyche take the ax from my hand. “No, Psyche," said I. “we must take our dinner hour the same as other workmen. albeit we have nothing to eat." ' We emptied tlte crock of sweet wa.er. and Psyche; seemed quite contented tnd happy. We sat down side by side, mid 1 gave my companion a lessoii in speech, naming all the things around us and making her repeat them after me, anj then point them out when I named them again; and surely no master gyer had a more quick and pleasant pupil. In this way we beguiled an hour a wav, and feeling better for the. rest. 1 retiirnei to the work, but not so hopefully as in the early morning, for certain syinpic...is already warned me that without food we should l»e almost as badly off as without water, and that our ■strength could net hol«j z against* starvation long enough for ws to get through' even ten feet of the cliff, and fifty Let must, as I reckoned, be the average thickness of the block. * . “It is no good. Psyche, not a bit of good," said 1: "we haven't cut half a foot deep in the rock. It's useless killing ourselves with fatigue for nothing at all. It must seem a cruel sport to you. poor cliild.-who have no idea what all tliis. hard work is for. Why. yo i j>oor little soul, your hands ar>' full of blisters. You may well wince when J touch. them: and now you are smiling and oooing as if it were a pleasure to suffer by me. I can understand it, rtiongh. I know how I-should feel toward any Jiving thing in human form that came to me in n solitude such as this., I'm the only companion you have ever known in this second life’ of yours, that's why. you"*cling to me, isn't it? ’ 1 hardly knew Ijou: I got through, the rest of the day. Psyche slept calmly, and while there was yet a faint light in the >rnail cave 1 myself fell asleep, sick with Lugger And with de-cwlr. Mr first thought when. 1 ewoke on the • (bird day wtts-of Psrehe. Was she still •aliyo?’ T aaked myself.. Creeping to wljere she lay I bent over-lier, holding my breath, an drwitlf ill luapmse. praying ’Witk tty I might bear her respiration. She lifted bar • arms and clasped her hahds about -ntj* Mertt. With a cry of gvUtitUde hnj jyy I jyasaed : her to her feett . . t** i ’ .yl»e hope of eAapi? seizea roe pace .'jtnore/dHill rushing iytd the littfj cave I ‘seiaci.nh* ax and ytW kM the fftff. Ilaycjw b/Jrjatiting Xa<*ke htr tnifa. tirliaxbn usted. By that time the reac-

tion had’come, and once again flinging the ax from me I swore that I would play this fool's game no more; and that, come what might, neither Psyehe nor I should cut - another stroke in this innddf^ing endeavor. - Aqathat very moment Psyche seized my arm. and after standing silent a moment burst into joyous laughter and flew from my side. 1 followed her as quickly as I could, wondering-what fantasy possessor her. until coming into the large cave -her action was explained. From Ihe direct ion of th» well came that .signal which my grandfather had told me to make. Someone was whistling as if to a dog. When I reached the edge of the shaft Psyche was singing her Aeolean song, and the light from above fell on her pale, upturned face. I looked up and descried a head bending over. —— :-- J - "libhl on that catawarlitjg," shouted the voice from above, which 1 recognized at once as old Peter's. T toticliied Psyche's arm an<Tshe ceased to sing. “Barnard, you cussed roared Peter. "Well." I answered. " You—Hamed—w a r men t, you're—begunto kick up that hammerin' row down there,-are you?” "What's that to you?” I replied. “Why, it’s nothin’ tfr-nte-txwe-to that. ■ But Ben's here -your grandfather—and he can't go to sleep, according tor the doctor's orders, while you're a kickin’ up that racket.” Now this seemed to me as naive a reason as my . grandfather him self might have offered—coming from the lips of a man who all his life had observed a* Spartan indifference to-the sufferings of others. However, it was sufficient to - know that —the nowe -was objectionable, and therefore a possible means of obtaining relief. "You're got to stefp it: do you understand that, there?" he shout'd, his wicked old voice breaking from a hoarse bass to a squeaking treble. “You’re got to stop it.” —— “I shall make just as much noise as I please, and go on just as long as_ I choose,” I replied. “No you won't, blame you. About three days' starvation would do you. Half a doieh would do me. so I know. In three days you'd be quiet enough. But I ain't goin’.i to have my boy, Ben, tormented on his bed o' sickness. I ain’t. If it warn't for leaving of him all alone I'd come down and knock your head off: do you understand that there? I’m no more afeared of you than I am of a blowfly on a bum'll o' lights. But to please my boy Ben. and just for the sake of peace and quietness, I'm. going to send you down a loaf of bread and mebtte a lump o' pork, an preaps a tater or *wo. But it’s all perwising you take your dyin’ oath you won't kick up no more racket, you understand that there. 3 * As 1 had resolved not to work upon the cliff again, it .was no great hardship to agree to these terms—though 1 did so without apjiearing to jump at ids offer, and ratlier as if to oblige n.y grandfather than myself. In fact, we wasted some minutes in mutual bullyuig before He withdrew, during >'hieh time I trembled with fear lest he should go from his offer. When he came again >nto sight, he had a basket in his nand. "Here's witties a-comin’ down, and they'll come down pretty regular if you behave yourself as a grandson : but mark my words, if there’s any more hammerin' I shall not only stop the xvtII es. but I'i 1 come down han 1 over ha nd. and knock you.' head off your sltouhlers. so you understand that there.” We waited to hear n<? more when the., basket reached us. but seizing the contents ran back to the great cave, and there we devoured the food with such laughing gladness and fervent gratitude as very rarely attends the richest of repasts. And to crown Psyche's delight, while there was still bread and meat to spare, we were hailed by t lusty “caw,” and the jackdaw fluttered down in the very rniSst of our good things.,.

CHAPTER X. Though I hail given my iremise to cease cutting at the cliff. and intended to keep it. 1 was by no means deterred from thinking of escape. It would have needl'd more than the pangs of hunger lo’kniake me accept perpetual imprisonment. And now that we might depend with tolerable certainty on receiving a daily supply food, the jrassibUity of escape was greater than before. We could afford to sjielld months in the effort. My thoughts turned again to burrowing un“ der the rock. “Come along. Psyche, let us go back to the place and see what we can make of it." said I when we had put away iu our store all that was left of the food. She ran at once and fetched the ax. and seemed rather sorry than glad when 1 signaled that we were not going to use it again, , , • ••Rut' there w ill be plenty c' work for you by.and by. you helpful Title friend." said I. "Only what we have to settle tntow is Jhieh way.we are to employ ourselves to the beat advantage, and not rush into a bopelesa tnjk .as wv did in our desphlf. Jr.st itand -juicily by my side while I thitik it out. Now, there’s ’thAt mass of fallen <«Uff'ha: stands between us and freedoin.; and there's the sapd nirt' shingle 'ton which .it rests. Where’s the 1/etK place trt S&op out a tunpel,and creep under the cliff? 'At first slghl it would see:uj,hnt nature done a' good dAal fbr. - in” making a great ctfvfty down there for its to start from, ivtufil no* begin to think-luat the Idea is v«rp 'misleading. I thiuk that muss be ilu'jnost nit |»art ty l-gi.i ’ipom ju*' <tid iiot a.! gre-,1 *dity ‘ther# and. present* if'obstacle, it would hare been fitted up before now by

the sand silting up every' time the water rises. Where the sand is|highest, Psyche, there the fallen cliff must have opposed the least resistance to the inwash of the •tide. Now there's a .little water at the bottom there; we’ll scoop it out, and/then see on which side the water Cows in most quickly. Rtyt and fetch me the crock, I’svehe —Crock.” I Sb.e looked at me an instant, and then remembering the words I had taught her, ran off swiftly, and returned with ’he crock, hugely delighted, I lescpnded into the hollow and baled out the water-, and watched what followed keenlv. “There,”' said I in triumph, “look at ..the little-thread—of—water-gliatenir.g in the light. That comes from the right hand, and there exactly as it should be the shingle and sand are highest.” Acting upon this theory', I founTUte highest jaiint of ground, and, digging ddWn with the ax against the face of the fallen cliff, made a beginning of this long job. As soon its Psyche perceive! what I was about, she fell oh her kne-s and dug out the loose san<T,nusi:ig her najids for a tool. ” • “Wait a bit, little one,” sa : d I. “you have blisters on your hands; come with me, and let us see if we can’t find something in the shflpe of .gloves to cover them." Among the things she had hung about her alcove were some-pairs of thick knitted stockings, for whien sh ■ had found ‘no use, I made her slip her .rms intoa pair, and the feet covering her hands, served as a very good protection to them, They excited her ipirth immensely, and though they seemed at first io tickle he? well content to wetir them when I s'gnifled my approval of their use. Digging in the sand .waajTar jess laborious" than cliff, anTwe"worked" on without 'fei'liuc fatigue un'il I decided that we should take our dinner hour. By that time we were standing in a hole as high as my armpits, but we had not yet reached water, though the tide had risen its highest, as one could see by the pool in the hollow. 1 was very well satisfied, however, with the progress -we had- made.- and. stat id ing otj the edge when 1 nodded approvingly to Psyche, she look' d down and codded approvingly to me. After our meal we set Io work again, and kept on'till the fight faded, only pausing for half an hour nr the afternoon to rest and refresh ourselves with some bread and water. How we relished this simple fare no one can imagine who has not suffered privation and done a long spell of good hard work. We had made less progress in the afternoon than in. the morning, for not only was the sand and shingle ; lore compact and difficult to work as we get lower, but the throwing it up out of the pit was far greater; and for that reason I gave Psyche the ax to loosen the ground, while I scooped ft up with a piece of the broken crock and shot it out. However, we had every reason to be content with our day's work, for we had sunk the pit to a depth of seven feet, and the tide rising again at the time we struck work showed ‘fiat we had come to the level of high 'vatir, if not below ft. - (To be continued.)