CHAPTER XXI
THE EARTH
Edmund's reference to the stars instantly drew my attention to theheavens. They were ablaze with amazing gems, but at first I could not seethe earth among them.
"I know what you are looking for," said Edmund. "Here, look through thepeephole in the bow. From our present position the earth appears butlittle elevated above the horizon, but when we reach the caverns, whichare in the center of the dark hemisphere, we shall see her overhead."
I knelt at the peephole, and my heart was in my throat. There was ourglorious planet, oh, so bright! and close beside her the moon. At thesight, an irrepressible longing arose in me to be once more at home. Jackand Henry took their turns at looking, and they were no less affectedthan I had been. But Edmund retained a perfect self-command:
"Do you know," he asked with an odd smile (for now the lamps wereglowing, and we had plenty of light in the car), "how long we have beenabsent from home?"
Not one of us had kept a record.
"It is just six hundred and four days," he continued, "since we left NewYork. We were sixteen days on our way to Venus; six days after ourarrival at the caverns occurred the conjunction of the earth, and theceremonies that Peter will not forget as long as he refrains from hairdye; two days later we departed for the sun lands; and since then fivehundred and eighty days have passed. Now, between one conjunction of theearth and Venus to the next, five hundred and eighty-four days elapse.Already five hundred and eighty-two of those days have passed, so thatwithin two days another conjunction will occur, and if we are then at thecaverns we shall doubtless witness another sacrifice to the earth and themoon."
"God forbid!" I exclaimed.
"I feel as you do," said Edmund. "We have seen enough of such things. Inorder, then, to hasten our arrival at the caverns, where we must buryJuba, for on that I insist, I am going to rise up out of the atmosphere,in order that we may fly with planetary speed. We can thus reach thecaverns, traversing the five thousand miles of distance that yet remain,in something like an hour, for some time must be lost in rising out ofand returning into the atmosphere, and in the meantime I must makeobservations to determine our location. Having found the caverns we willcomplete our rites at Juba's grave, and get away for good before thesacrificial ceremonies begin."
It was a programme that suited us all, and it was quickly carried out. Ihad not thought that my admiration of Edmund's ability could beincreased, but it was carried a notch higher when I saw how easily,guiding himself by the ever-visible stars, he located the caverns. Whenhe knew that he was directly over them he dropped the car swiftly, and wecould not repress a cry as we saw directly beneath us the familiar shaftsof light issuing from the ground.
"We may have to do a little searching," said Edmund, as we approached thelights, "for, of course, my observations are not accurate enough toenable me to locate the exact spot where we landed before."
But fortune favored us marvelously, and the very first opening that weapproached was at once recognized, for there stood the sacrificial altar.
We anchored the car near the shaft, and carried out Juba's coffin.
"Wait here," said Edmund, "while I descend."
"No, you're not going alone," exclaimed Jack. "I'll go with you."
Edmund made no objection and he and Jack descended the steps. Half anhour elapsed before they returned, accompanied by a dozen of the natives,stolid, and not exhibiting the signs of surprise over our return which Ihad expected to see. Edmund had now made so much progress in theirstrange means of communication that he had little difficulty in causingthem to comprehend what was wanted. They easily carried the coffin, andall of us followed down into the depths. It was the strangest funeralprocession that ever a man saw!
While the grave was being prepared in the underground cemetery where wehad witnessed the interment of the first victim of our pistols, Henry andI remained as a sort of guard of honor for Juba in the lower of the twogreat chambers which have been described in the earlier chapters of thishistory, and there a most singular thing occurred. We were startled by alow whining, and looking about saw one of the doglike creatures whichappeared to be the only inhabitants of the caverns except the nativesseated on its haunches close to the coffin, and exhibiting exactly thesigns of distress that a dog sometimes displays over its dead master.That we were taken aback by this scene I need not assure you. We hadnever observed, during our former visit, that either Juba or any of hispeople was followed by these creatures; in fact, they had always fled atour approach, and we had paid little attention to them.
But now, if the poor animal could have spoken, he could not more plainlyhave told us that, by means of the mysterious instinct which beings ofhis kind possess, he had recognized the presence of his old master, andwas mourning for him. It was truly a touching spectacle, and Henry washardly less moved by it than I. When Edmund and Jack came back, havingsuperintended the preparations, Jack was cut to the heart by the sight.Immediately he declared that the "dog" must accompany us in the car, andEdmund assented by a grave inclination of the head. The animal followedus to the grave, and remained there watching us intently. He seemed tohave dismissed his fear, as if he comprehended that we were friends ofhis master.
There were not more than twenty of the natives present at the interment,and none of them showed signs of sorrow. And when the grave was closedand we turned away, the little creature followed at our heels. Edmund hadcarved on a flat stone the word "JUBA," and left it lying on the grave,and Jack, having nothing else, threw a silver dollar on top of it. Thenatives probably regarded these things as talismans, or religioussymbols, for they treated them with the greatest deference, and no doubtthey lie there yet, and will continue to lie there through all the eons,for in those dry caverns the progress of decay can hardly be perceptibleeven after the passage of ages. It was a singular fact, noted by Edmund,that the natives exhibited not the slightest curiosity concerning theircomrades who had been lost in the crystal mountains, and I really doubtwhether they knew what the coffin contained.
When we had paid the last honors to Juba, we began to think of our finaldeparture. This place had become disagreeable to us. After the brilliantscenes that we had witnessed on the other side of the planet, the gloomhere, and the absence of all that had made the land of perpetual daylightseem a paradise of beauty, were intensely oppressive to our spirits. ButEdmund still wished to make some investigations, and we were compelled toawait his movements. What the nature of his investigations was I do notknow, for I was devoured by the desire to get away, and did not inquire.But fully twenty-four hours had elapsed before our leader was ready todepart. In the meanwhile "Juba's dog" had become firmly attached to Jack,who petted it as probably no creature of its race had ever been pettedbefore. It was a strange-looking animal; about as large as a terrier,with a big square head, covered with long black hair, while, in startlingimitation of the hirsute adornment of the natives themselves, its bodywas clothed with a golden-white pelt of silky texture. It would eatanything we offered it, and seemed immensely pleased with its new master,as it had every reason for being.
During the last hours of our stay we noticed unmistakable indications ofpreparation for the dreaded ceremonies of the conjunction, and ourdeparture was hastened on that account. The priests, whom Edmund had beencompelled to put out of the way of further mischief on the formeroccasion, had been replaced by others, and we thought that, perhaps, thisbeing the first opportunity for the display of their functions, theywould try to make it memorable--which presented a still stronger reasonwhy we should not delay. But, with one thing and another, we were heldback until the very eve of the ceremonies.
When we finally stood ready to enter the car, with Juba's dog at Jack'sheels, the procession up the steps had already begun. Edmund decided towait until the multitude had all assembled. They came trooping up intothe starlight, and I am sure that they had no idea of what we intended todo. Undoubtedly they must have recalled what had happened on the otheroccasion, but they showe
d no sign of either regret or anxiety on thataccount. They arranged themselves in a dense circle, as before, and thepriests took their place in the center. At this moment Edmund gave theword to enter the car. We sprang into it, and immediately Jack and I wentout on a window ledge in order to get a better view of the scene. Edmundstarted the car, and we rose straight toward the earth which glowed inthe zenith. Our movement was unexpected, and we at once arrested theattention even of the priests. The beginning of the ceremony was stoppedshort. All eyes were evidently drawn to us, and when they saw thedirection that we were taking a low murmur arose.
"Let me give them a parting salute," said Jack.
Edmund thought a moment, and then said:
"Very well, take a gun, but don't fire at them. If it terrifies them intoabandoning their sacrifice we shall have done one good thing in thisworld."
Jack instantly had the gun roaring, and although we were now high abovetheir heads, we could see that they were seized with consternation,rising from their knees, and running wildly about. Whether the noise andthe sight of us flying toward the earth, had the effect which Edmund hadhoped for, will never be known; but the last sight we had of livingbeings on Venus was the spectacle of those white forms darting about inthe starry gloom.
Our long journey home was interrupted by one more almost tragic episode.When we had been ten days in flight, and the earth had become like around moon of dazzling brilliance, Juba's dog, which had grown feeble andrefused to eat, died. Jack was broken-hearted, and protested when Edmundsaid that the body of the animal must be thrown out. He would have likedto try to stuff the skin, but Edmund was firm.
"But if you open a window," I said, "the air will escape."
"Some of it will undoubtedly escape," Edmund replied. "But, luckily, thisis the air of Venus which we are carrying, and being very dense, we canspare a little of it without serious results. I shall be quick, and therewill be no danger."
It was as he had said. When the window was partially opened, for only asecond or two, we distinctly felt a lowering of the atmospheric pressurethat made us gasp for a moment, but instantly Edmund had the windowclosed again, and we were all right. As we shot away we saw the littlewhite body gleaming in the sunlight like a thistledown, and then itdisappeared forever.
"It is a new planet born," said Edmund, "and the law of gravitation willpay it as much attention as if it were a Jupiter. It may wander in spacefor untold ages, and sometime it may even fall within the sphere of theearth's attraction, and then Jack's wish will have been fulfilled; but itwill be but a flying spark, flashing momentarily in the heavens as itshoots through the air."
* * * * *
Our home-coming was a strange one. For some reason of his own Edmund didnot wish to take the car to New York. He landed in the midst of theAdirondack woods, far from any habitation, and there, concealed in aswamp, he insisted upon leaving the car. We made our way out of thewilderness to the nearest railway station, and our first care was tovisit a barber and a clothing merchant. Probably, as we carried some ofthe guns, they took us for a party of hunters who wished to furbish upbefore revisiting civilization.
On reaching New York, we went, in the evening, straight to the OlympusClub, where our arrival caused a sensation. We found Church in the oldcorner, staring dejectedly at a newspaper. He did not see who wasapproaching him. Jack slapped him on the shoulder, and as he looked upand recognized us he fell back nearly fainting, and with mouth open,unable to utter a word.
"Come, old man," said Jack, "so we've found you! What did you run awayfor? Let me introduce you to the Columbus of Space, and don't you forgetthat I'm one of his lieutenants."
I don't think that Church has ever fully believed our story. He thinks,to this day, that we lost our "balloon," as he calls it, and invented therest. We purposely allowed the newspaper reporters to take the same viewof the case, but when we four were alone we unburdened our hearts, andrelived the marvelous life of Venus. I use the past tense, because I haveyet to tell you most disquieting news.
Edmund has disappeared.
Within three months after our return he bade us good night at anunusually early hour and we have never seen him since, although more thana year has now elapsed since he went out of the room at the Olympus. Jackand I have made every effort to find a trace of him, without avail. Ledby a natural suspicion, we have ransacked the Adirondack woods, but wecould never satisfy ourselves that we had found the place where the carwas left. Henry persists in the belief that Edmund is trying in secret todevelop his invention, with the intention of "revolutionizing industryand making himself a multibillionaire." But Jack and I know better!Wherever he may be, whatever may occupy his wonderful powers, we feelthat the ordinary concerns of the earth have no interest for him. Yet weare sure that if he is alive he often thinks of us.
Last night as Jack and I were walking to the club with my completedmanuscript under my arm, a falling star shot across the sky.
"Do you know what that recalls to me?" asked Jack, with a far-offexpression in his eyes.
"What?"
"Juba's dog."
Neither of us spoke again before we reached the clubhouse steps, but I amcertain that through both our minds there streamed a glitteringprocession of such memories as life on this planet could never give birthto. And they ended with a sigh.
THE END
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