CHAPTER X
THE GREAT SLOTH
You have heard of Indians shooting rapids in their birch-bark canoes?And perhaps you have yourself sailed a toy boat on a stream, and made adam of clay, and waited with more or less patience till the water rosenearly to the top, and then broken a bit of your dam out and made awaterfall and let your boat drift over the edge of it. You know how itgoes slowly at first, then hesitates and sweeps on more and morequickly. Sometimes it upsets; and sometimes it shudders and strains andtrembles and sways to one side and to the other, and at last rightsitself and makes up its mind, and rushes on down the stream, usually tobe entangled in the clump of rushes at the stream's next turn. This iswhat happened to that good yacht, the _Lightning Loose_. She shot overthe edge of that dark smooth subterranean waterfall, hung a longbreathless moment between still air and falling water, slid down like aflash, dashed into the stream below, shuddered, reeled, righted herselfand sped on. You have perhaps been down the water chute at Earl's Court?It was rather like that.
'It's--it's all right,' said Philip, in a rather shaky whisper. 'She'sgoing on all right.'
'Yes,' said Lucy, holding his arm very tight; 'yes, I'm sure she's goingon all right.'
'Are we drowned?' said a trembling squeak. 'Oh, Max, are we reallydrowned?'
'I don't think so,' Max replied with caution. 'And if we are, my dear,we cannot undrown ourselves by screams.'
'Far from it,' said the parrot, who had for the moment been renderedquite speechless by the shock. And you know a parrot is not madespeechless just by any little thing. 'So we may just as well try tobehave,' it said.
The lamps had certainly behaved, and behaved beautifully; through thewild air of the fall, the wild splash as the _Lightning Loose_ struckthe stream below, the lamps had shone on, seemingly undisturbed.
'An example to us all,' said the parrot.
'Yes, but,' said Lucy, 'what are we to do?'
'When adventures take a turn one is far from expecting, one does whatone can,' said the parrot.
'And what's that?'
'Nothing,' said the parrot. 'Philip has relieved Max at the helm and issteering a straight course between the banks--if you can call thembanks. There is nothing else to be done.'
There plainly wasn't. The _Lightning Loose_ rushed on through thedarkness. Lucy reflected for a moment and then made cocoa. This was realheroism. It cheered every one up, including the cocoa-maker herself. Itwas impossible to believe that anything dreadful was going to happenwhen you were making that soft, sweet, ordinary drink.
'I say,' Philip remarked when she carried a cup to him at the wheel,'I've been thinking. All this is out of a book. Some one must have letit out. I know what book it's out of too. And if the whole story got outof the book we're all right. Only we shall go on for ages and climb outat last, three days' journey from Trieste.'
'I see,' said Lucy, and added that she hated geography. 'Drink yourcocoa while it's hot,' she said in motherly accents, and 'what book isit?'
'It's _The Last Cruise of the Teal_,' he said. 'Helen gave it me justbefore she went away. It's a ripping book, and I used it for the roofof the outer court of the Hall of Justice. I remember it perfectly. Thechaps on the _Teal_ made torches of paper soaked in paraffin.'
'We haven't any,' said Lucy; 'besides our lamps light everything up allright. Oh! there's Brenda crying again. She hasn't a shadow of pluck.'
She went quickly to the cabin where Max was trying to cheer Brenda byremarks full of solid good sense, to which Brenda paid no attentionwhatever.
'I knew how it would be,' she kept saying in a whining voice; 'I toldyou so from the beginning. I wish we hadn't come. I want to go home. Oh!what a dreadful thing to happen to dear little dogs.'
'Brenda,' said Lucy firmly, 'if you don't stop whining you shan't haveany cocoa.'
Brenda stopped at once and wagged her tail appealingly.
'Cocoa?' she said, 'did any one say cocoa? My nerves are so delicate. Iknow I'm a trial, dear Max, it's no use your pretending I'm not, butthere is nothing like cocoa for the nerves. Plenty of sugar, please,dear Lucy. Thank you _so_ much! Yes, it's _just_ as I like it.'
'There will be other things to eat by and by,' said Lucy. 'People whowhine won't get any.'
'I'm sure nobody would _dream_ of whining,' said Brenda. 'I know I'm toosensitive; but you can do anything with dear little dogs by kindness.And as for whining--do you know it's a thing I've never been subject to,from a child, never. Max will tell you the same.'
Max said nothing, but only fixed his beautiful eyes hopefully on thecocoa jug.
And all the time the yacht was speeding along the underground stream,beneath the vast arch of the underground cavern.
'The worst of it is we may be going ever so far away from where we wantto get to,' said Philip, when Max had undertaken the steering again.
'All roads,' remarked the parrot, 'lead to Somnolentia. And besides theship is travelling due north--at least so the ship's compass states, andI have no reason as yet for doubting its word.'
'Hullo!' cried more than one voice, and the ship shot out of the darkcavern into a sheet of water that lay spread under a white dome. Thestream that had brought them there seemed to run across one side of thispool. Max, directed by the parrot, steered the ship into smooth water,where she lay at rest at last in the very middle of this greatunderground lake.
'_This_ isn't out of _The Cruise of the Teal_,' said Philip. 'They musthave shut that book.'
'I think it's out of a book about Mexico or Peru or Ingots or somegeographical place,' said Lucy; 'it had a green-and-gold binding. Ithink you used it for the other end of the outer justice court. And ifyou did, this dome's solid silver, and there's a hole in it, and underthis dome there's untold treasure in gold incas.'
'What's incas?'
'Gold bars, I believe,' said Lucy; 'and Mexicans come down through thehole in the roof and get it, and when enemies come they flood it withwater. It's flooded now,' she added unnecessarily.
'I wish adventures had never been invented,' said Brenda. 'No, dearLucy, I am not whining. Far from it. But if a dear little dog mightsuggest it, we should all be better in a home, should we not?'
All eyes now perceived a dark hole in the roof, a round hole exactly inthe middle of the shining dome. And as they gazed the dark hole becamelight. And they saw above them a white shining disk like a very largeand very bright moon. It was the light of day.
'Some one has opened the trap-door,' said Lucy. 'The Ingots alwaysclosed their treasure-vaults with trap-doors.'
The bright disk was obscured; confused shapes broke its shiningroundness. Then another disk, small and very black appeared in themiddle of it; the black disk grew larger and larger and larger. It wascoming down to them. Slowly and steadily it came; now it reached thelevel of the dome, now it hung below it; down, down, down it came, pastthe level of their eager eyes and splashed in the water close by theship. It was a large empty bucket. The rope which held it was jerkedfrom above; the bucket dipped and filled and was drawn up again slowlyand steadily till it disappeared in the hole in the roof.
'Quick,' said the parrot, 'get the ship exactly under the hole, and nexttime the bucket comes down you can go up in it.'
'This is out of the _Arabian Nights_, I think,' said Lucy, when theyacht was directly under the hole in the roof. 'But who is it that keepson opening the books? Somebody must be pulling Polistopolis down.'
'The Pretenderette, I shouldn't wonder,' said Philip gloomily. 'Sheisn't the Deliverer, so she must be the Destroyer. Nobody else can getinto Polistarchia, you know.'
'There's me.'
'Oh, you're Deliverer too.'
'Thank you,' said Lucy gratefully. 'But there's Helen.'
'She was only on the Island, you know; she couldn't come toPolistarchia. Look out!'
The bucket was descending again, and instead of splashing in the waterit bumped on the deck.
'You go first,' said Philip to Lucy.
'And you,' said
Max to Brenda.
'Oh, I'll go first if you like,' said Philip.
'Yes,' said Max, 'I'll go first if you like, Brenda.'
You see Philip felt that he ought to give Lucy the first chance ofescaping from the poor _Lightning Loose_. Yet he could not be at allsure what it was that she would be escaping to. And if there was dangeroverhead, of course he ought to be the one to go first to face it. Andthe worthy Max felt the same about Brenda.
And Lucy felt just the same as they did. I don't know what Brenda felt.She whined a little. Then for one moment Lucy and Philip stood on thedeck each grasping the handle of the bucket and looking at each other,and the dogs looked at them, and the parrot looked at every one in turn.An impatient jerk and shake of the rope from above reminded them thatthere was no time to lose.
Lucy decided that it was more dangerous to go than to stay, just at thesame moment when Philip decided that it was more dangerous to stay thanto go, so when Lucy stepped into the bucket Philip helped her eagerly.Max thought the same as Philip, and I am afraid Brenda agreed with them.At any rate she leaped into Lucy's lap and curled her long length roundjust as the rope tightened and the bucket began to go up. Brendascreamed faintly, but her scream was stifled at once.
'I'll send the bucket down again the moment I get up,' Lucy called out;and a moment later, 'it feels awfully jolly, like a swing.'
And so saying she was drawn up into the hole in the roof of the dome.Then a sound of voices came down the shaft, a confused sound; theanxious little party on the _Lightning Loose_ could not make out anydistinct words. They all stood staring up, expecting, waiting for thebucket to come down again.
'I hate leaving the ship,' said Philip.
'You shall be the last to leave her,' said the parrot consolingly; 'thatis if we can manage about Max without your having to sit on him in thebucket if he gets in first.'
'But how about you?' said Philip.
The bucket began to go up.]
A little arrogantly the parrot unfolded half a bright wing.
'Oh!' said Philip enlightened and reminded. 'Of course! And you mighthave flown away at any time. And yet you stuck to us. I say, you know,that was jolly decent of you.'
'Not at all,' said the parrot with conscious modesty.
'But it was,' Philip insisted. 'You might have---- hullo!' cried Philip.The bucket came down again with a horrible rush. They held their breathsand looked to see the form of Lucy hurtling through the air. But no, thebucket swung loose a moment in mid-air, then it was hastily drawn up,and a hollow metallic clang echoed through the cavern.
'Brenda!' the cry was wrung from the heart of the sober self-containedMax.
'My wings and claws!' exclaimed the parrot.
'Oh, bother!' said Philip.
There was some excuse for these expressions of emotion. The white diskoverhead had suddenly disappeared. Some one up above had banged the liddown. And all the manly hearts were below in the cave, and brave Lucyand helpless Brenda were above in a strange place, whose dangers thosebelow could only imagine.
'I wish _I'd_ gone,' said Philip. 'Oh, I _wish_ I'd gone.'
'Yes, indeed,' said Max, with a deep sigh.
'I feel a little faint,' said the parrot; 'if some one would make a cupof cocoa.'
Thus did the excellent bird seek to occupy their minds in that firstmoment of disaster. And it was well that the captain and crew were thussaved from despair. For before the kettle boiled, the lid of the shaftopened about a foot and something largeish, roundish and lumpish fellheavily and bounced upon the deck of the _Lightning Loose_.
It was a pine-apple, fresh, ripe and juicy. On its side was carved inlarge letters of uncertain shape the one word 'WAIT.'
It was good advice and they took it. Really I do not see what else theycould have done in any case. And they ate the pine-apple. And presentlyevery one felt extremely sleepy.
'Waiting is one of those things that you can do as well asleep as awake,or even better,' said the parrot. 'Forty winks will do us all the goodin the world.' He put his head under his wing where he sat on thebinnacle.
'May I turn in alongside you, sir?' Max asked. 'I shan't feel thedreadful loneliness so much then.'
So Philip and Max curled up together on the deck, warmly covered withthe spare flags of all nations, and the forty winks lasted for the spaceof a good night's rest--about ten hours, in fact. So ten hours' waitingwas got through quite easily. But there was more waiting to do afterthey woke up, and that was not so easy.
. . . . . . .
When Lucy, sitting in the bucket with Brenda in her lap, felt the bucketlifted from the deck and swung loose in the air, it was as much as shecould do to refrain from screaming. Brenda _did_ scream, as you know,but Lucy stifled the sound in the folds of her frock.
Lucy bit her lips, made a great effort and called out that remark aboutthe bucket-swing, just as though she were quite comfortable. It was verybrave of her and helped her to go on being brave.
The bucket drew slowly up and up and up and passed from the silver domeinto the dark shaft above. Lucy looked up. Yes, it was daylight thatshowed at the top of the shaft, and the rope was drawing her up towardsit. Suppose the rope broke? Brenda was quite quiet now. She saidafterwards that she must have fainted. And now the light was nearer andnearer. Now Lucy was in it, for the bucket had been drawn right up, andhands were reached out to draw it over the side of what seemed like awell. At that moment Lucy saw in a flash what might happen if the ownersof the hands, in their surprise, let go the bucket and the windlass. Shecaught Brenda in her hands and threw the dog out on to the dry ground,and threw herself across the well parapet. Just in time, for a shout ofsurprise went up and the bucket went down, clanging against the wellsides. The hands _had_ let go.
Lucy clambered over the well side slowly, and when her feet stood onfirm ground she saw that the hands were winding up the bucket again, andthat it came very easily.
'Oh, don't!' she said. 'Let it go right down! There are some more peopledown there.'
'Sorry, but it's against the rules. The bucket only goes down this wellforty times a day. And that was the fortieth time.'
They pulled the bucket in and banged down the lid of the well. Some onepadlocked it and put the key in his pocket. And Lucy and he stood facingeach other. He was a little round-headed man in a curious stiff redtunic, and there was something about the general shape of him and histunic which reminded Lucy of something, only she could not rememberwhat. Behind him stood two others, also red-tunicked and round-headed.
Lucy threw herself across the well parapet.]
Brenda crouched at Lucy's feet and whined softly, and Lucy waited forthe strangers to speak.
'You shouldn't do that,' said the red-tunicked man at last, 'it was agreat shock to us, your bobbing up as you did. It will keep us awake atnight, just remembering it.'
'I'm sorry,' said Lucy.
'You should always come into strange towns by the front gate,' said theman; 'try to remember that, will you? Good-night.'
'But you're not going off like this,' said Lucy. 'Let me write a noteand drop it down to the others. Have you a bit of pencil, and paper?'
'No,' said the strange people, staring at her.
'Haven't you anything I can write on?' Lucy asked them.
'There's nothing here but pine-apples,' said one of them at last.
So she cut a pine-apple from among the hundreds that grew among therocks near by, and carved 'WAIT' on it with her penknife.
'Now,' she said, 'open that well lid.'
'It's as much as our lives are worth,' said the leader.
'No it isn't,' said Lucy; 'there's no law against dropping pine-applesinto the well. You know there isn't. It isn't like drawing water. And ifyou don't I shall set my little dog at you. She is very fierce.'
Brenda was so flattered that she showed her teeth and growled.
'Oh, very well,' said the stranger; 'anything to avoid fuss.'
Whe
n the well lid was padlocked down again, Lucy said:
'What country is this?' though she was almost sure, because of thepine-apples, that it was Somnolentia. And when they had said that wordshe said:
'Now I'll tell you something. The Deliverer is coming up that well nexttime you draw water. He is coming to deliver you from the bondage of theGreat Sloth.'
'It is true,' said the red round-headed leader, 'that we are in bondage.And the Great Sloth wearies us with the singing of choric songs when welong to be asleep. But none can deliver us. There is no hope. There isnothing good but sleep. And of that we have never enough.'
'Oh, dear,' said Lucy despairingly, 'aren't there any women here? Theyalways have more sense than men.'
'What you say is rude as well as untrue,' said the red leader; 'but toavoid fuss we will lead you and your fierce dog to the huts of thewomen. And then perhaps you will allow us to go to sleep.'
The huts were poor and mean, little fenced-in corners in the ruins ofwhat had once been a great and beautiful city, with gardens and streams;but now the streams were dry and nothing grew in the gardens but weedsand pine-apples.
But the women--who all wore green tunics of the same stiff shape as themen's--were not quite so sleepy as their husbands. They brought Lucyfresh pine-apples to eat, and were dreamily interested in the cut of herclothes and the begging accomplishments of Brenda. And from the womenshe learned several things about the Somnolentians. They all wore thesame shaped tunics, only the colours differed. The women's were green,the drawers of water wore red, the attendants of the Great Sloth woreblack, and the pine-apple gatherers wore yellow.
And as Lucy sat at the door of the hut and watched the people in thesefour colours going lazily about among the ruins she suddenly knew whatthey were, and she exclaimed:
'I know what you are; you're Halma men.'
Instantly every man within earshot made haste to get away, and the womenwhispered, 'Hush! It is death to breathe that name.'
'But why?' Lucy asked.
'Halma was the great captain of our race,' said the woman, 'and theGreat Sloth fears that if we hear his name it will rouse us and we shallbreak from bondage and become once more a free people.'
Lucy determined that they should hear that name pretty often; but beforeshe could speak it again the woman sighed, and remarking 'The GreatSloth sleeps,' fell asleep then and there over the pine-apple she waspeeling. A vast silence settled on the city, and next moment Lucy alsoslept. She slept for hours.
. . . . . . .
It took her some time to find the keeper of the padlock key, and whenshe had found him he refused to use it. Nothing would move him, not eventhe threat of the fierceness of Brenda.
At last, almost in despair, Lucy suddenly remembered a word of power.
'I command you to open the well and let down the bucket,' she said. 'Icommand you by the great name of Halma.'
'It is death to speak that name,' said the keeper of the key, lookingover his shoulder anxiously.
'It is life to speak that name,' said Lucy. 'Halma! Halma! Halma! If youdon't open that well I'll carve the name on a pine-apple and send it inon the golden tray with the Great Sloth's dinner.'
'It would have the lives of hundreds for that,' said the keeper inhorror.
'Open the well then,' said Lucy.
. . . . . . .
They all held a council as soon as Philip and Max had been safely drawnup in the bucket, and Lucy told them all she knew.
'I think whatever we do we ought to be quick,' said Lucy; 'that GreatSloth is dangerous. I'm sure it is. It's sent already to say I am to bebrought to its presence to sing songs to it while it goes to sleep. Itdoesn't mind me because it knows I'm not the Deliverer. And if you'lllet me, I believe I can work everything all right. But if it knowsyou're here, it'll be much harder.'
The degraded Halma men were watching them from a distance, in whisperinggroups.
'I shall go and sing to the Great Sloth,' she said, 'and you must goabout and say the name of power to every one you meet, and tell themyou're the Deliverer. Then if my idea doesn't come off, we mustoverpower the Great Sloth by numbers and . . . . You just go about saying"Halma!"--see?'
'While you do the dangerous part? Likely!' said Philip.
'It's not dangerous. It never hurts the people who sing--never,' saidLucy. 'Now I'm going.'
And she went before Philip could stop her.
'Let her go,' said the parrot; 'she is a wise child.'
The temple of the Great Sloth was built of solid gold. It had beautifulpillars and doorways and windows and courts, one inside the other, eachpaved with gold flagstones. And in the very middle of everything was alarge room which was entirely feather-bed. There the Great Sloth passedits useless life in eating, sleeping and listening to music.
Outside the moorish arch that led to this inner room Lucy stopped andbegan to sing. She had a clear little voice and she sang 'Jockey to theFair,' and 'Early one morning,' and then she stopped.
And a great sleepy slobbery voice came out from the room and said:
'Your songs are in very bad taste. Do you know no sleepy songs?'
'Your people sing you sleepy songs,' said Lucy. 'What a pity they can'tsing to you all the time.'
'You have a sympathetic nature,' said the Great Sloth, and it came outand leaned on the pillar of its door and looked at her with sleepyinterest. It was enormous, as big as a young elephant, and it walked onits hind legs like a gorilla. It was very black indeed.
'It _is_ a pity,' it said; 'but they say they cannot live withoutdrinking, so they waste their time in drawing water from the wells.'
'Wouldn't it be nice,' said Lucy, 'if you had a machine for drawingwater. Then they could sing to you all day--if they chose.'
'If _I_ chose,' said the Great Sloth, yawning like a hippopotamus. 'I amsleepy. Go!'
'No,' said Lucy, and it was so long since the Great Sloth had heard thatword that the shock of the sound almost killed its sleepiness.
'_What_ did you say?' it asked, as if it could not believe its largeears.
'I said "No,"' said Lucy. 'I mean that you are so great and grand youhave only to wish for anything and you get it.'
'Is that so?' said the Great Sloth dreamily and like an American.
'Yes,' said Lucy with firmness. 'You just say, "I wish I had a machineto draw up water for eight hours a day." That's the proper length for aworking day. Father says so.'
'Say it all again, and slower,' said the creature. 'I didn't quite catchwhat you said.'
Lucy repeated the words.
'If that's all. . . .' said the Great Sloth; 'now say it again, veryslowly indeed.'
Lucy did so and the Great Sloth repeated after her:
'I wish I had a machine to draw up water for eight hours a day.'
'Don't,' it said angrily, looking back over its shoulder into thefeather-bedded room, 'don't, I say. Where are you shoving to? Who areyou? What are you doing in my room? Come out of it.'
Something did come out of the room, pushing the Great Sloth away fromthe door. And what came out was the vast feather-bed in enormous rollsand swellings and bulges. It was being pushed out by something so bigand strong that it was stronger that the Great Sloth itself, and pushedthat mountain of lazy sloth-flesh half across its own inner courtyard.Lucy retreated before its advancing bulk and its extreme rage.
'Push me out of my own feather-bedroom, would it?' said the Sloth, nowhardly sleepy at all. 'You wait till I get hold of it, whatever it is.'
The whole of the feather-bed was out in the courtyard now, and the GreatSloth climbed slowly back over it into its room to find out who haddared to outrage its Slothful Majesty.
Lucy waited, breathless with hope and fear, as the Great Sloth blunderedback into the inner room of its temple. It did not come out again.There was a silence, and then a creaking sound and the voice of theGreat Sloth saying:
'No, no, no, I wo
n't. Let go, I tell you.' Then more sounds of creakingand the sound of metal on metal.
She crept to the arch and peeped round it.
The room that had been full of feather-bed was now full of wheels andcogs and bands and screws and bars. It was full, in fact, of a large andcomplicated machine. And the handle of that machine was being turned bythe Great Sloth itself.
'Let me go,' said the Great Sloth, gnashing its great teeth. 'I won'twork!'
'You must,' said a purring voice from the heart of the machinery. 'Youwished for me, and now you have to work me eight hours a day. It is thelaw'; it was the machine itself which spoke.
'I'll break you,' said the Sloth.
'I am unbreakable,' said the machine with gentle pride.
'This is your doing,' said the Sloth, turning its furious eyes on Lucyin the doorway. 'You wait till I catch you!' And all the while it had togo on turning that handle.
'Thank you,' said Lucy politely; 'I think I will not wait. And I shallhave eight hours' start,' she added.
Even as she spoke a stream of clear water began to run from the pumpingmachine. It slid down the gold steps and across the golden court. Lucyran out into the ruined square of the city shouting:
'Halma! Halma! Halma! To me, Halma's men!'
And the men, already excited by Philip, who had gone about saying thatname of power without a moment's pause all the time Lucy had been in thegolden temple, gathered round her in a crowd.
'Quick!' she said; 'the Great Sloth is pumping water up for you. He willpump for eight hours a day. Quick! dig a channel for the water to runin. The Deliverer,' she pointed to Philip, 'has given you back yourriver.'
Some ran to look out old rusty half-forgotten spades and picks. Butothers hesitated and said:
'The Great Sloth will work for eight hours, and then it will be free towork vengeance on us.'
'I will go back,' said Lucy, 'and explain to it that if it does notbehave nicely you will all wish for machine guns, and it knows nowthat if people wish for machinery they have to use it. It will beawake now for eight hours and if you all work for eight hours a dayyou'll soon have your city as fine as ever. And there's one new law.Every time the clock strikes you must all say "Halma!" aloud, every oneof you, to remind yourselves of your great destiny, and that you are nolonger slaves of the Great Sloth.'
And all the while it had to go on turning that handle.]
She went back and explained machine guns very carefully to the nowhard-working Sloth. When she came back all the men were at work digginga channel for the new river.
The women and children crowded round Lucy and Philip.
'Ah!' said the oldest woman of all, 'now we shall be able to wash inwater. I've heard my grandmother say water was very pleasant to wash in.I never thought I should live to wash in water myself.'
'Why?' Lucy asked. 'What do you wash in?'
'Pine-apple juice,' said a dozen voices, 'when we _do_ wash!'
'But that must be very sticky,' said Lucy.
'It is,' said the oldest woman of all; 'very!'