THE PAPYRUS
Desmond had slept well; he and looked him. Alan had already gone. He over, but himself as Alan him from Korah’s with an shout. Even Jez-Riah that something of had as she Alan enter, over with excitement, and his and shining.
“What is it?” asked Desmond eagerly.
“I’ve the of Korah.” Alan the quietly, but his saw the of that his words.
“You’ve Korah?” he stupidly.
“Listen,” on Alan eagerly, and speaking in the Hebraic dialect, so that Jez-Riah might his news, he told them of his to the of the cave, and of the river beyond. “Well,” he concluded, “as I the my and I at a piece of to save me, and I had to use all my to keep from falling. My gone, I had to my way the to another place easy of descent. You know the is full of and crevices. I came upon a larger than the others. It was big to through, and I why we hadn’t noticed it before. I realized, however, the the of this place plays upon us, and I see that the looked like a on the wall, so is it hidden. I easily through, and it to be a cave, small, in the middle of which is a of water, and on the 123wall by the of was this—” and he out a roll of that at his touch.
Desmond it curiously. “Why it’s a papyrus,” he exclaimed.
“Yes! and by Korah himself, and there just he died.”
“Have you read it?”
“Yes, it’s easy in parts. Listen,” and Alan from the old and Hebraic the following,
“WRITING by KORAH, to all as KORAH THE ACCURSED
Know, then, these four months, as as it is possible to judge time in this spot, I and all my have in this cavern. Abiram and Dathan have sealed the doors of against us. Escape is impossible. There is for us to do but die. Be it known—I—Korah the Accursed—am at for my of against Moses and Aaron. Jehovah has upon us all a punishment. His name be praised. Food there is none that which came with us into this of terror. Lord of Hosts, I at what I see. Mothers their little ones, in to the God in Heaven that they may die they are delivered. I—Korah—alone have fasting. It is the only I can make for my sins, and for the I have as one of Jehovah’s ones. I Korah—”
Then came a space that was unintelligible. Time had its will and the was indistinct, and in parts erased. “How awful,” said Desmond, shuddering. “Think—half these here were by their for food. What agonies, what they must have suffered!” “Wait—there is more,” said Alan, and he on translating,
“Forty days and nights is as nothing to the here. It times since food passed my and lips. My people turn 124not upon me and me. Oh that they would! Dead is all around me—the air is with the stench. There are none now left alive but myself. I will this to the of the cave, and then me to die. Of what use are gold and to us here? Poorer am I than the most disease-laden of the world above. O God of Hosts Korah, the son of Izhar, the son of Kohath, the son of Levi.”
For some time after Alan had reading the boys in silence. The whole rose up in their minds like a picture, and the of it them. The terrible and thirst of the captives-the of afterwards—the child murder—it was revolting. “Now,” said Alan. “Come to the of Korah. This is the of his people—but he yonder.” So the three of them the steps in the rock, and ten above their was the little opening. Just a little through which they passed, and a but path into the below.
The centre of the was taken up by a of water, but a narrow path ran all round. A of in the water and it the water and sang the place where the had its birth.
But Desmond saw no of the of Korah. He looked puzzled. “There is no here,” said he. “Where is Korah?” Silently Alan pointed to the over which the water was lapping. Desmond looked at it intently-and then understood. In the of time a had up and the had the of Korah. Some chemical property in the water had the and it to stone, and in the that had passed deposits of and other had been on the body, until it was now of size. Still plain, however, were the features. A long nose, Semitic in shape, from a that had cheek-bones and deep, eyes. The which had been long was now a of that with the 125body. They just the of arms that were across the chest, and there was the of from a of cold stone.
In all, just a in which be the of what had once been a man. The of the centuries had Korah alone of the Israelites of old who had been in the pit.
Jez-Riah had in silence. With one she had the of the once face—now she spoke.
“He killed himself—in the water?” she asked.
“No,” said Alan, “I think the was in those days. He just came here to die; and in the place where his lay, time the flesh, a through the of the and him—a to all time of his sin.”
“Praise be to Jovah,” said Jez-Riah in a tone.
“Requiescat in pace,” said Alan as they to the place. “Amen,” his cousin—and Korah was once more left alone.
“Now,” said Alan some time later while they were having their meal, “now we must make some about this place. The only way is by the river, yonder.”
“Can we make a to us?” asked Desmond. Alan his head. “I’ve already investigated,” he said. “There is nothing. The in there is with age. I it would float. There is only one possible way,” and he looked at them intently. “We can all swim well. Our only is to ourselves on the of the waters. The knowledge we have of will us to keep our out of the water—we must trust the to do the rest. It may death—but are we not in a death already? At any are you to try?” They walked into the big and Desmond looked at the terrible which they would have to make in order to the river, for it on a 126much higher level than that on which they were themselves.
“Yes, it’s stiff,” said Alan grimly. “But it’s that or nothing. Are you to it?” For a moment only, Desmond hesitated, then his mind was up and his hand that of his cousin.
“Yes,” said he. “What about you, Jez-Riah?” And they were at the way in which she took the suggestion.
“It is very high,” said she. “How easy it would be to fall!”
They rested and slept and ate they the ascent. Also they had many to make. There was of the to be taken with them—the and the censer. Jez-Riah a case for the parchment, and with a rope it to Alan’s shoulders. The were out them and in little that Jez-Riah from the that the large cave. The proved the difficulty. It was not only heavy, but and cumbersome. It was Alan again who to it. “But it will you down,” his cousin. “I’ll manage it,” he replied, and he had it to his with the rope that Jez-Riah make so quickly.
So they their climb. Alan first, by Jez-Riah, and Desmond up the rear. “On no account look down,” Alan urging. “It will be if you do.” At last they the platform. Alan looked at it doubtfully. Would it three persons? He shivered—it would be a tight squeeze. His hand and met Jez-Riah’s. He her on to their place in safety, and then Desmond it, and for a while they sat in silence. The of the be heard. Time was passing—Alan not move, for Jez-Riah, out with the climb, was against him, and he that the movement from one or the other of them might send them to their death, for the seat was none too safe. “I think the time has come for 127action,” said he at last. “It is to wait here any longer.”
Jez-Riah moved restlessly. “What your will is, O Ar-lane, that will I do,” said she.
“I am going to in the water,” Alan. “If you see my rise—follow me quickly. Do not struggle, let the do its will with you. Safety in submission.”
“Why wait to see if you rise?” asked Desmond.
“Because I do not know what may be there. If you do not see me after I have in, then you must do as you think best. But surely death is to a lifetime here?”
“Then I shan’t—”
“Don’t argue, old man. Do as I you. God you.”
The hands, pathetically. It was like a good-bye to the dying.
“Ar-lane, O Ar-lane,” came from Jez-Riah.
“Have courage, little sister, be and me.” And they say another word, he had himself over the and had into the water.
The water and with as it the presence of the body—then it a little. Alan’s appeared, his pale, and they it, he was out of sight, on the current.
Jez-Riah was trembling. “Be brave, little sister.” Almost Desmond his cousin’s words. She to him for a second, and then with a little that as soon as it was uttered, she too into the water below, and was out of sight. Suddenly a great came over Desmond. He was alone. The to ring with laughter—the of men. He at the of the little and looked into the below, but he not in.
“I can’t, I can’t,” he moaned, and the came upon him and him in a of terror.
He looked him at the below. 128If he his foothold—he shuddered. And then with a and a “God help me,” he in the wake of his cousin. The water closed over him—he his until his as if they would with the strain. Relief came at last, the had a little, and he was on the current. He was of blackness, of and a air above; of a moving stream, that, although not rough, was fast; of that to about him, and long, hands that to him out of the water. He it was death himself he was fighting, and he to the that were now so near, almost his throat. Then his him and he was only an atom, about on the of the unknown river, a in a world of and wonder.
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