CHAPTER VI
LOST IN THE CRYSTAL MOUNTAINS
If we had seen the danger earlier, and had not been so tumbled about bythe pitching of the car, it is possible that Edmund would have preventedthe collision, in spite of the partial disablement of his apparatus. Theblow against the precipice of ice was not as severe as it had seemed tome, and the car was not smashed; but the fall was terrible! There wasonly one thing which saved us from destruction. At the base of the mightycliff against which the wind had hurled the car an immense deposit ofsnow had collected, and into this we plunged. We were all thrown togetherin a heap, the car and the sleds being entangled with the wire ropes.
Fortunately the stout glass windows were not broken, and after we hadstruggled to our feet Edmund managed to open the door. Before emerging hebade us put on our furs, but even with them we found the cold outside allbut unendurable. Yet the natives paid no attention to it. Not one of themwas seriously hurt, although they were firmly attached to the sleds, andunable to undo their fastenings. We set them loose, and then beganseriously to examine the situation.
Above us towered the vertical precipice disappearing in the whirlingclouds, and the wind drove square against it with the roar of Niagara.The air was filled with snow and ice dust, and at intervals we could notsee objects three feet away from our noses. Our poor furry companionshuddled together, and being of no use to themselves or us, suffered morefrom the noise, and from the terror inspired by the snow than from anyinjuries that they had received.
"We've got to get out of this mighty quick," shouted Edward. "Hustle nowand repair ship."
We got to work at once, Juba aiding us a little under Edmund's direction,and soon we had the sleds out of the tangle and properly attached. Thenwe replaced the natives on their seats, and entered the car. Edmund beganto fumble with his apparatus. After some ten minutes' work he said, in anevasive way, that the damage was not serious enough to prevent theworking of the car, but I thought I caught an expression of extremeanxiety in his face. Still, his manner indicated that he consideredhimself master of the situation.
"You notice," he said, "that this wind is variable, and there lies ourchance. When the blasts weaken, the air springs back from the face of thecliff and then whirls round to the right. I've no doubt that there is apassage in that direction through which the wind finds its way behindthis icy mountain, and if we can get there, too, we shall undoubtedlyfind at least partial shelter. I'm going to take advantage of the firstlull."
It worked out just as he had predicted. As the wind surged back after aparticularly vicious rush against the great blue cliff, we cut loose andwent sailing up into it, rushing past the glittering wall so swiftly thatit made our heads swim. In two or three minutes we rounded a corner, andthen found ourselves in a kind of atmospheric eddy, where the car simplyspun round and round, with the sleds whirling below it.
"Now for it!" shouted Edmund. "Hang on!"
He touched a knob, and instantly we rose with immense speed. We must haveshot up a couple of thousand feet, when the wind, coming over the top ofthe icy barrier we had just flanked, caught us again, and swept us off ona horizontal course. Then, suddenly, the air cleared all round about, asif a magic broom had swept away the clouds. The spectacle that wasrevealed--but why try to describe it! No language could do it. Yet I musttell you what we saw.
We were in the heart of the _Crystal Mountains!_ They towered round us onevery side, and stretched away in interminable ranges of shiningpinnacles. Such shapes! Such colors! Such flashing and blazing ofgigantic rainbows and prisms! There were mountains that looked to myamazed eyes as lofty as Mont Blanc, and as massive, every solid mile ofwhich was composed of crystalline ice, refracting and reflecting thesunbeams with iridescent splendor. For now we could begin to see a partof the orb of the sun itself, prodigious in size, and poised on the edgeof the gem-glittering horizon, where the jeweled summits split its beamsinto a thousand haloes.
There was one mighty peak, still ahead of us, but toward which we wererushed sidewise by the wind, which surpassed all the others inmarvelousness. It towered majestically above our level--a superb,stupendous, coruscating _Alp of Light_! On every side it darted blindingrays of a hundred splendid hues, as if a worldful of emeralds, rubies,sapphires, and diamonds had been heaped together in one gigantic pile andtransfused with a sunburst. Even Edmund was for a moment speechless withastonishment at this wildly magnificent sight. But presently he spoke,very calmly, though what he said changed our amazement to terror.
"The trouble with the apparatus is very serious. I am unable to make thecar rise higher. It will no longer react against an obstacle. We areentirely at the mercy of the wind. If it carries us against thatglittering devil no power under heaven can save us."
If my hair had not whitened before it surely would have whitened now!
"We were in the heart of the _Crystal Mountains_!"]
When we were swept against the first icy precipice the danger had comeunexpectedly, out of a concealing cloud, and anticipation was swallowedup in the event. But now we had to bear the fearful strain ofexpectation, with the paralyzing knowledge that nothing that we could docould aid us in the least. I thought that even Edmund's face paled withfear.
On we rushed, still borne sidewise, so that the spectacle was burned intoour eyes, as, with the fascination of impending death, we gazed helplessout of the window. Now we were upon it! Instinctively I threw myselfbackward; but the blow did not come. Instead there was a wild rush of icecrystals sweeping the thick glass.
"Look!" shouted Edmund. "We are safe! See how the particles of ice areswept from the face of the peak by the tempest. They leap toward us, andare then whirled round the mountain. The compacted air forms a buffer. Wemay yet touch the precipice, but the wind, having free vent on bothsides, will carry us one way or the other without a serious shock."
He had hardly finished speaking, in a voice that had risen to a shriekwith the effort to make himself heard, when the crisis came. We did justtouch a projecting ridge, but the wind, howling past it, carried us in aninstant round the obstruction.
"Scared ourselves for nothing," said Edmund, in a quieter voice, as theroar died down. "We were really as safe all the time as a boat in a deeprapid. The velocity of the current sheered us off."
Our hearts beat more steadily again, but there was a greater danger, ofwhich he had warned us, but which we had not had time to contemplate. I,at least, began to think of it with dismay when the scintillant peak wasleft behind, and I saw Edmund again working away at his machinery.Presently it was manifest that we were rapidly sinking.
"What's the matter?" I cried. "We seem to be going down."
"So we are," he replied quietly, "and I fear that we shall not go upagain very soon. The power is failing all the time. It will be prettyhard to have to stop indefinitely in this frightful place, but I amafraid that that is our destiny."
Lost and helpless in these mountains of ice and this world of gloom andstorm! The thought was too terrible to be entertained. Yet it was forcedinto our minds even more by our leader's manner than by his words. Notone of us failed to comprehend its meaning, and it was characteristicthat, while talkative Jack now said not a word, uncommunicative Henryburst into a brief fury of denunciation. I was startled by the energy ofhis words:
"Edmund Stonewall," he cried, agitating his arms, "you have brought me tomy death with your infernal invention! May you be--"
But he never finished the sentence. His face turned as white as a sheet,and he sank in a heap upon the floor.
"Poor fellow," said Edmund, pityingly. "Would to God that he instead ofChurch had remained at home. But I'll get him and all of us out of thistrouble; only give me a little time."
In a few minutes Jack and I had restored Henry to his senses, but he wasas weak as a child, and remained lying on one of the cushioned benches.In the meantime the car descended until at last it rested upon the snowin a deep valley, where we were protected from the wind. In this profounddepression a kind o
f twilight prevailed, for the sun, which we hadglimpsed when we were on the level of the peaks, was at least thirtydegrees below our present horizon. Henry having recovered his nerve, weall got out of the car, unloosed the natives, and began to look about us.
The scene was more disheartening than ever. All about towered the crystalmountains, their bases leaden-hued and formless in the ghostly gloom,while their middle parts showed deep gleams of ultramarine, brighteningto purple higher up, and a few aspiring peaks behind us sparkledbrilliantly where the sunlight touched them. It was such a spectacle asthe imagination could not have conceived, and I have often tried in vainto reproduce it satisfactorily in my own mind.
Was there ever such a situation as ours? Cast away in a place wild andwonderful beyond description, millions of miles from all human aid andsympathy, millions of miles from the world that had given us birth! Icould, in bitterness of spirit, have laughed at the suggestion that therewas any hope for us. And yet, at that very moment, not only was therehope, but there was even the certainty of deliverance. But, unknown tous, it lay in the brain of the incomparable man who had brought ushither.
I have told you that it was twilight in the valley where we lay. Butwhen, as frequently happened, tempests of snow burst over the mountains,and choked the air about us, the twilight turned to deepest night, and wehad to illumine the lamps in the car. By great good fortune, Edmund said,enough power remained to furnish us with light and heat, and now I lookedupon those mysterious black-tusked muzzles in the car with a newsentiment, praying that they would not turn to mouths of death.
The natives, being used to darkness, needed no artificial illumination.In fact, we had observed that whenever the sunlight had streamed overthem their great eyes were almost blinded, and they suffered cruelly froman affliction so completely outside of all their experience. Edmund nowbegan to speak to us of this, saying that he ought to have foreseen andprovided against it.
"I shall try to find some means of affording protection to their eyeswhen we arrive in the sunlit hemisphere," he said. "It must be my firstduty."
We heard these words with a thrill of hope.
"Then you think that we shall escape?" I asked.
"Of course we shall escape," he replied cheerfully. "I give you my wordfor it, but do not ask me for any particulars yet. The exact means I havenot yet found, but find them I will. We may have to stay where we are fora considerable time, and our companions must be made comfortable. Evenunder their furry skins they'll suffer from this kind of weather."
Following his directions we took a lot of extra furs from the car, andconstructed a kind of tent, under which the natives could huddle on thesleds. There being but little wind in the valley, this was not sodifficult an undertaking as it may seem. And the poor fellows were veryglad of the shelter, for some of them were shivering, since, not knowingwhat to do, they were less active than ourselves. No sooner were theyhoused than they fell to eating ravenously. Both the car and the sledshad been abundantly provisioned, so that there was no immediate fear of afamine among us.
Inside the car we soon had things organized very much as they were duringour voyage from the earth. We read, talked, and smoked to our hearts'content, almost forgetting the icy mountains that tottered over us, andthe howling tempest which, with hardly an intermission, tore through thecloud-choked air a thousand or two thousand feet above our heads. Wetalked of our adventure with the meteors, which seemed an event of longago, and then we talked of home--home twenty-six million miles away! Infact, it may have been thirty millions by this time, for Edmund had toldus that Venus, having passed conjunction while we were at the caverns,was now receding from the earth.
But while we thus strove to kill the time and banish thoughts of ouractual situation, Edmund sat apart much of the time absorbed in thought,and we respected his privacy, knowing that our only chance of escape layin him. One day (I speak always of "days," because we religiously countedthe passage of time by our clock) he issued alone from the car and wasabsent a long time, so that we began to be concerned, and, going outsidelooked everywhere for signs of him. At length, to our infinite relief, heappeared stumbling and crawling along the foot of an icy mountain. As hedrew nearer we saw that he was smiling, and as soon as he was within easyearshot he called out:
"It's all right. I've found the solution."
Then upon joining us he continued:
"We'll get out all right, but we shall have to be patient for a whilelonger."
"What is it?" we asked eagerly. "What have you found out?"
"Peter," he said, turning to me, "you know what libration means; well,it's libration that is going to save us. As Venus travels round the sunshe turns just once on her axis in making a complete circuit, theconsequence being, as you already know, that she has one side on whichthe sun never rises while the other half is in perpetual daylight. But,since her orbit is not a perfect circle, she travels a little faster thanthe average during about half of her year and a little slower during theother half, but, at the same time, her steady rotation on her axis nevervaries. This produces the phenomenon that is called libration, the resultof which is that, along the border between the day and night hemispheresthere is a narrow strip where the sun rises and sets once in each of heryears, which are about two hundred and twenty-five of our days in length.Within this strip the sun shines continuously for about sixteen weeks,gradually rising during eight weeks and sinking during the followingeight. Then, during the next sixteen weeks, the strip lies in unceasingnight.
"Now the kind fates have willed that we should fall just within thislucky strip. By the utmost good fortune after we passed the blazing peakwhich so nearly wrecked us, we were carried on by the wind so far, beforethe ascensional power of the car gave out, that we descended on thesunward side of the crest of the range. The sun is now just beginning torise on the part of the strip where we are, and it will get higher forseveral weeks to come. The result will be that a great melting of ice andsnow will occur here, and in this deep valley a river will form, flowingoff toward the sunward hemisphere, exactly where we want to go. I shalltake advantage of the torrent that will flow here and float down with ituntil we are out of the labyrinth. It's our only chance, for we couldn'tpossibly clamber over the hummocky ice and drag the car with us."
"Why not leave the car here?" asked Henry.
Edmund looked at him and smiled.
"Do you want to stay on Venus all your life?" he asked. "I thought youdidn't like it well enough for that. How could we ever get back to theearth without the car? I can repair the mechanism as soon as I can findcertain substances, which I am sure exist on this planet as well as onthe earth. But it is no use looking for them in this icy wilderness. No,we can never abandon the car. We must take it with us, and the onlypossible way to transport it is with the aid of the coming river."
"But how will you manage to float?" I asked.
"The car, being air-tight, will float like a buoy."
"But the natives, will you abandon them?"
"God forbid. I'll contrive a way for them."
The effects of libration on Venus were not new to me, but they were toJack and Henry, who had never studied such things, and they expressedmuch doubt about Edmund's plan, but I had confidence in it from thebeginning, and it turned out just as he had predicted, as things alwaysdid. Every twenty-four hours we saw, with thankful hearts, that the sunhad perceptibly risen, and as it rose, the sky gradually cleared, whilethe sunbeams, falling uninterruptedly, grew hotter and hotter. Soon we nolonger had any use for furs, or for artificial heat. At the same time themelting of the ice began. It formed, in fact, a new danger, by bringingdown avalanches into the valley, yet we watched the process joyously,since it fell so entirely within Edmund's program. While we were awaitingthe flood, Edmund had prepared screens to protect the eyes of thenatives.
We were just at the bottom of the trough of the valley, near its head. Itwound away before us, turning out of sight beyond an icy bulwark. Streamswere soon pouring down from the hei
ghts all around, and uniting, theyformed a little torrent, which flowed swiftly over the smooth, hard ice.Edmund now completed his plan.
"I'll take Juba in the car with us," he said. "There's just room for him.As for the others, we'll fasten the sleds on each side of the car, whichwill be buoyant enough to float them, and they'll have to take theirchances outside."
We made the final arrangements while the little torrent was swelling to ariver. Before it became too broad and deep we managed to place the caracross the center of its course, the sleds forming outriders. Then alltook their places and waited. Higher and higher rose the waters, whileavalanches, continually increasing in size and number, thundered down theheights, and vast cataracts leaped and poured from the precipices. It wasa mercy that we were so situated that the avalanches could not reach thecar. But we received some pretty hard knocks before the stream becamedeep and steady enough to float us off. Shall I ever forget that moment?
There came a sudden wave, forced onward by a great slide of ice, whichlifted car and sleds on its crest, and away we went! The car proved morebuoyant than I had believed possible. The sleds, fastened on each side,tended to give it extra stability, and it did not sink deeper than themiddle of the windows. The latter, though formed of very thick glass,might have been broken by the tossing ice if they had not been dividedinto small panes separated by bars of steel, which projected a few inchesoutside.
"I made that arrangement for meteors," said Edmund, "but I never thoughtthat they would have to be defended against ice."
The increasing force of the current sent us spinning down the valley withaccelerated speed. We swept round the nearest ice peak on the left, andas we passed under its projecting buttresses a fearful roar aboveinformed us that an avalanche of unexampled magnitude had been unchained.We could not withdraw our eyes from the window on that side of the car,and almost instantly immense masses of ice appeared crashing into thewater, throwing it over us in floods and half drowning the unfortunatewretches on the sleds. Still, they clung on, fastened together, and wecould do nothing to aid them. The uproar grew worse, and the ice cameplunging down faster and faster, accompanied with a deluge of water fromthe heights above. The car pitched and rolled until we were all flung offour feet. Poor Juba was a picture of abject terror. He hung moaning to abench, his huge eyes aglow with fright.
Suddenly the car seemed to be lifted clear from the water, and then itfell back again and was submerged, so that we were buried in night.Slowly we rose to the surface, and Edmund, springing to a window,shouted:
"They're gone! Heaven have pity on them--and on me!"
In spite of their fastenings the water had swept every living soul fromthe sled on the left. We rushed to the other window. It was the samestory there--the sled on that side was also empty. I saw a furry bodytossed in the torrent alongside, but in a second it disappeared beneaththe raging water. At the same time Edmund exclaimed:
"God forgive us for bringing those poor creatures here only to meet theirdeath!"