CHAPTER XVI
The Lake of Darkness
Rick sat with his back against the cold surface of a stalagmite column.His head drooped with weariness and his throat ached from yelling. Hehad retraced his steps a dozen times or more. He had lost count. Butnone of the passages took him back to his friends, nor had his yellingof their names brought a response.
He forced himself into a semblance of calmness and tried to think. Whatwas he to do? He eyed the beam of his flashlight and realized that heought to conserve the batteries. He turned it off, and dead, silentblackness closed in about him.
True blackness is rare. It cannot be found by closing shutters orcurtains in a room, even at night. Some light always penetrates man-maderooms unless they are designed, as very few are, for total darkness.Rick never had experienced it before, and it was frightening. He had totake a firm grip on himself to keep from getting panicky.
But if the underground caverns were completely without light, they werenot completely without sound. As Rick sat quietly he began to hear theslow drip of water. It was the slow drip of centuries that had producedthe weird limestone formations of the caves.
He began to talk quietly to himself, and the sound of his own voice wasbetter than listening to the slow dripping of water.
"I can't stay here. The others wouldn't have any more chance of findingme than I have of finding them. But if I leave here, I'm taking achance. I might go so deep into the caves that I'd never find my way outagain, or see any of the others again."
He had visited some of the limestone caverns of Virginia, and he hadread of the New York and Kentucky caverns. He knew that even in Americathere were endless series of caves that never had been fully explored.This fabled Tibetan place might extend on forever.
"On the other hand," he continued to himself, "if I keep moving, I mightstumble on the big cave under the Black Buddha again. It's less than afifty-fifty chance. A whole lot less. But it's a chance and I'd bettertake it."
He didn't let himself think of what would happen if he failed to findhis way back. He got to his feet and switched on his light again. Bycontrast with the total darkness, the reflection of the beam on thelimestone walls was brilliant sunlight. He had to wait while his eyesadjusted themselves to the light. Then he flashed the beam around. Therewere passages going in every direction.
"Which way do I go?" he asked himself.
It was a tossup. He remembered an old trick and spat into the palm ofhis hand. Then, with the forefinger of his other hand, he slapped thespittle sharply. The biggest drop flew between two limestonehour-glasses that formed one passage. He hitched up the camera case onhis shoulder, picked up his rifle, and started forward.
The caverns were endless. Walking slowly, to conserve his strength, hewandered through countless incredible rooms of gleaming stone. Thedripping water had formed all manner of things. He saw animals, ships,mountain scenes, waterfalls, and cataracts, fairy grottoes, fish,distant houses ... all carved of shining stone by millions uponcountless millions of water drops over centuries past number. He was socompletely enthralled by the unearthly beauty of the place that he evenforgot his predicament for a few moments.
And then he noticed that his flashlight was growing so weak that it nolonger threw a clearly defined beam. It must have been getting weakerfor some time, he thought, but his eyes had adjusted themselves to thefailing light.
He looked at his watch, wondering that the flashlight batteries had rundown so soon. The watch had run down, too, and had stopped. He couldn'tremember. Had he wound it before coming to the cave? He was chilled now.It was cold and damp in the limestone passages. He shivered and pulledup his collar.
The panic rose up again. He didn't know how long he had been in thecave. Had it been only a short while, or so many hours that his watchhad run down? He said to himself as calmly as he was able, "I'll have toget where I'm going before the light fails altogether."
He began to run.
The illusion grew that he was trying to overtake the end of theflashlight's beam. When he did catch up with it, that would be the end.He had completely forgotten the infrared light on the camera, eventhough the case banged against his side as he ran. He had been carryingit for so long it had become a part of him.
He dodged through passages, rounded turns, leaped over stalagmites. Oncehe had to crawl on his hands and knees under water-smooth limestone,pushing his rifle ahead of him.
And all the time he was catching up to the end of the light. The radiusof illumination narrowed as the batteries failed, increasing the dangerof stumbling into a sudden crevice. Outside, the flashlight would havebeen rejected long ago as a source of light. But far underground, withno other light of any kind, it was still useful.
Running more slowly now, at a stumbling dogtrot, he broke into a cavelarger than any he had seen since the first one, at the end of thepassage from the Black Buddha. The feeble light failed to reach theopposite wall.
Rick stopped, panting for breath. He knew he had to rest. He found anatural seat next to a twisted pillar of limestone and sat down.
The light slowly faded until there was only the dimmest of red tints tothe bulb, and then that vanished too, and he was again in totaldarkness. As he watched the light fade, he remembered the infrared. Nowhe got the glasses from the case and put them on. He took the camera outand adjusted the handstrap so it could be carried like a satchel. But hedidn't turn on the light just yet. The battery had to be conserved atall costs. Because....
He swallowed hard. Because when the battery for the infrared light randown, there would be nothing but darkness. Darkness would mean feelinghis way through the limestone tangle, and he realized fully that hewould not get far before death claimed him in the form of a yawningcanyon in the limestone rock. He had passed many of them.
He set his jaw. That was ten hours away, because the battery would lastthat long. Ten hours was a long time if used wisely.
He closed his eyes and leaned back, dead tired. He dozed off.
* * * * *
Rick was never sure what awakened him, because there was no noise. Itmay have been the light on eyes made sensitive by ultimate blackness.But could a single candle have that much effect?
The candle was carried by a man. A Tibetan. The candle was in a tincontainer, punched full of holes. That was to keep it from being blownout in case of a draft, although there was little or no draft in thecaverns.
When Rick opened his eyes the man was walking straight across the floorof the big cave, noiseless as a cat in feet wrapped in quilted cloth.The miracle was that Rick didn't cry out on seeing another human.
He sat frozen, watching the man. Then, as the stranger reached the farside of the cave, Rick came to life. If he lost this man, who obviouslyknew his way around, he was finished! Working at top speed he untied hisshoelaces and slipped off his shoes. Then, in stocking feet, he paddedsilently across the floor.
The candle was his guide. He didn't need the infrared beam yet. He wouldfollow the candle, and if it led him right into the hands of the enemy,that was better than perishing alone of hunger in the blackness of theinner caves.
As he went, wary of a backward look by his quarry, he put his rifleunder his arm and fumbled to tie a knot in his laces. It took time,since he was carrying the camera in one hand now. When he finallymanaged, he draped the shoes around his neck.
A dozen times he had been on the verge of abandoning the rifle asuseless extra weight. Now he was glad he had held onto it.
Ahead, the candlelight bobbed and turned as the Tibetan, unaware that hewas being followed, made his way through the caverns. Rick followed at asafe distance, close enough to avoid being left behind by a sudden turn.
There was a new feeling in the air suddenly, a feeling of space and ofwetness. Rick sniffed. There was an odor, too, like decaying leaves,although much weaker. His hopes brightened. Was the Tibetan leading himout of the caves?
Then, so suddenly that he almost slipped from the edge
, the path tookhim to a narrow ledge above a body of water of some kind.
The Tibetan was making his way along the ledge, candle held high in asearch for something. When Rick switched on the infrared light for amoment, the incredible scene leaped to his eyes from the darkness. Fromunder his feet a lake stretched away, its farther shore beyond theeight-hundred-yard range of the infrared light. He turned the light backand forth, seeking the end of the amazing body of water. But there wasnothing except the shore on which he stood.
The water was dead calm. Not a ripple disturbed the glassy surface. Heshot the invisible light straight down, and the water was so deep itlooked black.
With a sudden start he realized he might lose the Tibetan candle bearer.He hurried after him, using the infrared light because the candle wastoo far away now to show him the path. With the glasses on, using theinfrared light was just like using a powerful searchlight.
Far ahead, the candle stopped moving. Rick now proceeded morecautiously, and he switched off the infrared light in case the Tibetanshould look back and possibly spy the glowing filament of the lamp.
The man was stooping over something, the candle resting on the stonenext to him. Rick switched the light on, then off again. And he brokeinto a silent run. During the second the light had been on he had seenthat the Tibetan was untying a boat!
He had an instant to make a decision. He reached a spot a few feetbehind the preoccupied stranger, who was having trouble with the ropeknot, and put the infrared camera down on the stone. Then, gripping therifle firmly, he walked right up to the man.
"Hands up," he growled.
The Tibetan screamed.
He whirled, eyes wide with astonished fright, and he didn't even see therifle. He swept an enormous knife from his belt and leaped!
Rick stumbled backward, and as he did, he realized that he couldn'tshoot. He still needed the man for a guide. He swung the rifle, barrelfirst.
It was just as effective as it had been when he swung on Worthington Ko.The barrel connected with an audible _thunk_. The Tibetan fell forwardon his face.
Frightened out of his wits, Rick rolled him over, pulled aside thesheepskin coat he wore and put his ear on the man's chest. Then hesighed with relief. He hadn't swung too hard. For a moment he had fearedthat the blow had killed the man. And that would have been almost aseffective as holding the rifle barrel to his own head, because he stillhad no idea of where to go without the guide.
He debated for a moment, then lifted the Tibetan, dragged him to theboat and dumped him in. It was a flat-bottomed craft with blunt ends andprimitive oar-locks. The oars were poles with round disks of wood on theends.
He collected the candle and the camera, placed them on a thwart, andwent to work on the rope. It was reeved through an iron ring that juttedfrom the stone. The sight gave him heart. Where there was iron, men cameoften. At least he was sure that held true in this case. But his victoryhad spurred him on and he didn't want to sit quietly and wait. He wantedto keep going.
He untied the knot, blew out the candle, shipped the oars and pushedoff. Something was on the other side of this Lake of Darkness. Hecouldn't imagine what, but he intended to find out!