THE ORIGIN OF THE PEOPLE
For some time after the met again so strangely, they only each other’s hands—their were too full for words.
“I’m like a woman,” said Desmond at last “but oh! Alan, I to have been in this Hell a lifetime.”
“Poor old boy.”
“No one to speak to but Kaweeka—no one to look at but Kaweeka—always Kaweeka—until I I should go mad.”
“How did you here?” asked Alan at last. “We were able to the of the Light. Oh,” he shuddered, “I shall you off—whirling through space—it was terrible.”
Then Desmond his in a quick way, as if to it done. “The Light came upon me so suddenly, I didn’t what had happened. All I was—that I had a my waist—and that I was being through space. Then came a through which to last a lifetime. I to be going on and on—and then I myself in the presence of the high in the temple here. I have no of how I it—I think I must have and then—”
“Well?”
“Well I so after the that the all hazy. I know I in some of their religious ceremonies. I was into the of Mzata—”
66“Is that the idol?”
“Yes. I the was overpowering. Then I anything else, Kaweeka came and me. She me here, and—well, old chap, the isn’t pleasant. The woman is a fiend. Down here there is no one for her to allure, and as I I was the white man to here alive, she gave me the of her powerful wiles. She me into a of harem, in which I am”—he laughed bitterly—“her husband.”
“My God,” said Alan hoarsely, “You have married her, Desmond?”
Desmond nodded. “I that’s what it is—but I don’t much of what she says. At any I was taken to the temple and after a long ceremony, she came and me the congregation. Time after time I’ve been an of killing myself, for the is unbearable. But she has and every has been taken from me.”
“Can you her tongue?”
“No, up to now I have only managed a very words. I know her name. I know that Mzata is the god of their temple,—but I cannot than that.”
“What do you do all day?”
“Nothing! What is there to do? I go out and Kaweeka me, me the whole time. Should she not come—then I am by her spies. The watch me with suspicion; they to their, as I pass, and long to upon me and me to the flames. I’ve since I’ve been here, and that would make the man tremble. Alan,” solemnly, “I’ve beings—human beings that we in Marshfielden—people we and loved—thrown to the fire through the medium of Mzata. I saw Mrs. Skeet here—shrieking—sobbing—crying—and I saw her into the of the idol. I was in the temple and to save her, if death had been my reward—but Kaweeka gave a and I was and and to her 67tortures. She saw me and me, and as she was sent nearer and nearer the she to me to her. ‘Mr. Desmond! Save me! Save me!’ she shrieked, and do you know, Alan, as the closed over her body, I ‘Mr. Desmond! Save me!’ come up through the fire.”
“Then that is the of all the ones from Marshfielden?”
“I am so.”
“What is the ‘Light’?”
“I don’t know—I’ve to out—but it is some power of their own that they have learnt to control. I think it is some force—something to do with the natural light that this place. It is sent through the earth itself by the of some mechanism, and when it the world above, it a which it and back—a living, to this here.”
“It is a very terrible to our world.”
“Indeed it is! Some of the arrive and burnt, and welcome the fire to deliver them from their pains. In some way I was by it—at least I was very slightly, and soon recovered. But, Alan! How did you here? Did the Light you too?”
“No, Desmond!” And Alan told the of the mine and how he the river that him to his cousin.
Suddenly their met, and a quick passed through their simultaneously. Alan was the to it.
“It’s no good, Desmond, we couldn’t possibly the way I came. We not with the that me here. The water is too to attempt to wade, and there isn’t so much as a on either to which we cling.”
“What are we going to do then?”
“Of we must try and escape—but how? As as I can judge we must be near the centre of the earth. How can we to cut our way again—and if we did, how long 68would it take us to do it? No, we are in a position, and there isn’t a or telephone wire to us.”
Their was by the entrance of Kaweeka. Unannounced and without to she entered the room, and men rose to their hurriedly.
Alan with arms and a upon his face. The moment’s of the yesterday had passed. He the woman, siren, devil, call her what you will, to be and foul—and his had passed, him in his and with power to her.
Like a she up to them, and touched them on their cheeks, and then, Desmond entirely, she out her arms to Alan. Sickened he away, but she came up him, and put her arms about his neck. Brutally he them and her from him with a very British “damn”—which, though the word might be to her, left the meaning clear and plain. A look of fury, by one of hatred, passed over her features, and she from Alan to Desmond, and in a low in her own language to him.
Desmond against her powerful for some time, but he was frail, and her all power him nearer and nearer. Once more her arms were open, and Desmond was into them as a fish is into a net.
Kaweeka gave a low chuckle, and in to Alan. With a step he his hand as though he would her, then in time, and left them alone. Up and the room he and from the opening the of people walking up and the street—men, and children, all on work or pleasure. In a way they to be civilized, yet it was a unknown to the upper world. An came over him and he to the door and it. It was unlocked. That was more than he had for, and he the stairs to the 69outer door. But there his progress was impeded, for a on a of and his passing.
Alan and at him, and then more pacific to his way; but the man was to everything, and Alan his steps and took in a little not from the main entrance. Suddenly a hand on his him, and he saw Desmond looking at him in a manner.
“We can go out, Kaweeka says,—at least that is what I her to mean. Will you come now, Lanny?”
As he used the old name, Alan a in his and he Desmond’s hand.
“Come on! old boy,” said he, “I want to talk to you.”
Kaweeka was near the door as they it, and she to them to they were free to go out—but as they passed her they her issue a to the at the door who them, and although they that he was for them a protection among the wild people of the underworld, yet it them of all of escape.
“Dez,” said Alan at last, “Do you love Kaweeka?”
“No,” in a low voice.
“Old chap, cut from her. When we to the world again—don’t let our here have us. The life is enough, God knows, but don’t let us be sordid.”
“She has such power, Lanny.”
“I know, Dez, but it down, boy, I’ll help you.”
“Thanks, old chap.” Then suddenly, “Do you think we shall away from here?”
“I to have a try, how, when, or where I don’t know yet, but there are two of us now and we must hard for our freedom.”
“I we ought to try and the and trust of some of the natives?”
70“That won’t be easy, but we must make the most of any opportunity that may come our way.”
Then they into as they looked about them in at the places they passed. The and like a maze, and the boys how the their way about. There were no shops to be seen—the whole to live on that everywhere, that in on low by the water’s side, and fruits. Fish too was at times, but it as if it was only allowed to be when religious were being kept.
Every home to all the for the into for wear. There was little in the men’s and women’s dress—a that was wide open at the and a skirt on the male was all that them, of course, the of the hair.
The families to live in happiness, but them of their neighbours, and members of the of the high and Kaweeka were called in to check the and that were always taking place.
Alan and Desmond walked on of time; their came up them, and in no manner to them that it was time they returned.
Their life very monotonous, but they were together—that was their only comfort. Kaweeka had and silent. She to that her power was now that Alan had appeared on the scene, and she over the he had put upon her when he her.
They still in her house, but saw her. Food was them at regular intervals. Sometimes days passed and they were not allowed to go out. At other times Kaweeka would soft and and would send them out in her chariot, and they would take their food and be away all day, by the 71underground and lakes, or fruits in the copses, where the tree was not more than four high.
Time very on their hands, and there no of their being able to themselves from their terrible position.
They learnt to the into for themselves, and they and for their apartments. Grasses they into belts—and that the whole of their and work.
Their personal guard, Wolta, was a particularly individual, who had from his of the white strangers. What services he did for them he did grudgingly, and their food was often ill-served and through his spite.
Then came the day when a new man appeared to wait on them. They not what he said, but Okwa to them that they were to him. He them to the and out into a the house.
There in a coffin, of cloth on poles, Wolta—dead. The boys in interest, for this was the death they had since they had been in the underworld.
No was over the man, no religious was over the form. The and its was the dark by two bearers. On they until they came to a dark were black and evil-looking. Without any the was out into the water. It for a minutes, the open wide and the mouth into a grin. Then there was the of a and a large appeared, by another and another. There was the of teeth and the of jaws—and an on the top of the lake.
The boys away at from the sight—and when they did look again—all of Wolta had vanished—there only the same on the of the water. The two 72folded up the and it across their shoulders;—it was for the next that death might claim.
“It’s horrible,” said Desmond with a shudder. “I wonder they give all their to those man-eating fish?”
“I should think so,” answered Alan. “Their idea of than some of the of the South Sea Islanders.”
Their days passed in monotony, and their for fresh air and salt breezes. They spoke to no one, saw no one but Okwa, and they were into such a of nerves, they one with the other. Okwa came in one day and that they go out. Moodily they walked the and their way to a river near by—a guard, as usual, close behind. They sat on the banks that to the water’s edge; and they and silent. Suddenly there came the of a them—a and a splash. A little girl had stumbled, and the bank was in the water. The was very strong, and the little maid, though she was, was unable to with the rapids. Twice her had from sight.
In a second Alan was in the river after her, and down, her to the surface; but the were and and the water deep, and it was only with the that he succeeded in the bank, where Desmond was waiting, in arms he the now child. But the he had proved almost too much for him, and as he saw the child into safety, he into the river and the closed over his head. He rose again to the surface and with an almost to the bank, and Desmond and their him ashore.
His was for the child who was on the ground. He the of aid, and moved her little 73arms above her head, and then pressed them well against her ribs. Gradually the air was into her lungs, she opened her eyes, smiled, and in a very moments was able to stand.
“There, along, little one,” said Alan, kindly—but the child put her to his and to him, and he had to her to his and home with her, there like a little queen. The himself them, and and the ground.
“You’ve a conquest,” laughed Desmond. “I wonder who she is.” As they the of the city they the of and the of drums. A religious was in progress. Alan and Desmond to allow it to pass. A long of temple the way, by and and children, at birth to the temple, who on the ground. Then an in sight, on a with a of gold.
The little girl excited. “Abbi! Abbi!” she shrieked, and to free from her on Alan’s shoulder. The priest’s livid. He a of and gave a to two by his side. Instantly the of the was broken, and Alan and Desmond were with rope and away. It was all done so that they had no time to resist.
The little girl had the with eyes, and when she the whole purport, herself into Alan’s arms. The another quick command, and with the little one fast to her rescuer’s hand, she told the of her escape.
When she had the her tenderly, and then low the two boys and their feet. Then they were places in a the high and were taken to the temple—this time as guests.
They were to the altar, and very and seated themselves on the steps, one on either 74side, which the high to them. The service was very long and tedious, but was by any rites, much to the of the two boys.
Then the the people, and out a hand to each of the boys who and him. There an address, and the boys it was the being told to the people of the by Alan.
When the had speaking, he and their hands, and the to the rail to his example. They were by the whole as friends. Their were no longer in jeopardy. Then the boys their seats and the of the temple was concluded.
During the service Alan’s were on some that were on the walls, at intervals, as as reach. It was a group of over and over again, and there was something familiar about them—yet he was unable to what it was. Then the people’s voice rose in song—he intently. Again and again were the like a and almost he the to memory.
Soon the service was ended and in they were to Kaweeka’s house. She met them with and charm, but the boys were and she left them alone with in her heart. They ate the food that was them in silence, a which Alan by saying abruptly, “Could you make out anything of the last the people over and over again in the temple, Dez?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you it?”
Desmond looked surprised. “Of not,” he laughed. “Could you?”
Alan did not answer the question, but asked another.
“Well, they it over a good many times—didn’t you the sounds?”
75Desmond a minute, “I think I did,” he replied. “It something like:
“Har-Ju-Jar! Har-Ju-Jar! Kar-Tharn.”
“Har-Ju-Jar! Har-Ju-Jar! Kar-Tharn.”
Alan a of paper out of his pocket and it to his cousin. He had the exact of the Desmond had said.
“All the same, I don’t see what you are at,” he demurred, “you look pleased over something.”
“I’ve been out a theory, and I don’t think I am in the I have at. Now look at that,” and he him another piece of paper on which were the signs:
Desmond looked at it for a moment, and then said, “Why, you’ve the that are painted all around the of the temple—in the great Fire Hall.”
“Right. Now can you it?”
Desmond laughed. “Of not. Can you?”
“I think so,” said Alan confidently.
“What?” almost Desmond in amazement.
“Now,” on Alan. “You got your in Theology at Cambridge—translate this”—and he passed Desmond a third of paper with other on it:
Desmond looked at it carefully. “I’ve almost forgotten,” he commenced. Then—“why it’s Hebrew—Hebrew for Abiram and Dathan!”
76“Now I want you to think carefully, Dez,” and Alan the two of paper on which were the characters, him. “Now would you not that this,” pointing to the from the temple, “is a of that?”—pointing to the Hebrew.
“Well it looks as if it might easily be so,” Desmond.
“Now think of the we up of that to-day. Isn’t it the of possibility that Har-ju-jar is a of Hallelujah, or Alleluia?”
“Ye-e-es.”
“And Har-Barim and Kar-Tharn a of Abiram and Dathan?”
“Ye-es.”
“Well,” Alan triumphantly, “this is the I have come to. The language of these people is a of Hebrew.”
“What?”
“I’m of it, and I am we of it before. Of it was our visit to the temple to-day since I came here, and I noticed those before—but to-day as I looked at them they familiar, and it on me in a flash. Now we ought to it very easy to up the they speak—we used to know something of Hebrew in the old days at college.”
They were almost too to say much more, when Alan his hand on the table with a that Desmond start.
“I’ve got it, Dez old boy,” said he.
“Got what?”
“Why think of your Bible. In the—let me see—oh mind—somewhere in Numbers, I think, we the of Korah, Abiram and Dathan.”
“Oh my dear Alan, I am I have it long ago.”
“Never mind,” on Alan excitedly. “It’s the sixteenth chapter, if I rightly. I’ll you of it—Don’t you the Chosen People rose up against Moses—”
“Well?”
77“I can’t the exact but in the chapter it tells you that the ‘earth was asunder, and up the three men with their houses and that them, and they alive into the pit, and the earth closed over them.’”
Desmond looked and silent.
“Don’t you see the connection, Dez?”
“No! I do not.”
“Well, here are people in the of the earth, and in their temple they have in Hebrew, if I may so put it, the names of Abiram and Dathan. What more likely than that these people are the of those of the Old Testament who some fourteen hundred and ninety years Christ?”
“Is it possible?” asked Desmond breathlessly.
“Why not?” answered his cousin. “The Bible ends there. We’re told that they into the alive—we are told that they died! Now we are that they speak a Hebrew, we ought to it very easy to learn to speak to them, and then we will for freedom.”
“Alan,” said Desmond suddenly. “I wonder your is correct. We’ve got Abiram and Dathan right enough, but what about Korah? He was the and yet there is no of his name.”
“I his name has been the of time,” said Alan. “At any I am now, and I shan’t any more about it for the present. Let’s go to sleep,” and the two boys into their and were soon fast asleep.
There was no night in this terrible underworld; the lights out; and were unknown. The place was into entire darkness—true, the to sleep, but they pleased themselves as to when they slept and for how long. The whole world was at at the same time—truly, indeed, it was an place of unrest!
The two men were fast asleep, the light 78across their, faces, and Alan moved restlessly, for his were ones.
Suddenly the door opened and a appeared—it was Kaweeka. Softly she across their room, and by the of their couches. A light came into her as she the and of Alan’s as he heavily. She over him, his lips, and as she did so—
“So desired—so desirable—yet I so undesired!”
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