The Coral Island, Robert Michael Ballantyne [inspirational novels .TXT] 📗

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after a dive. Now we were almost as much amazed at seeing him reappear, well and strong, as we had been at first at his non-appearance; for, to the best of our judgment, he had been nearly

ten minutes under water, perhaps longer, and it required no

exertion of our reason to convince us that this was utterly

impossible for mortal man to do and retain his strength and

faculties. It was therefore with a feeling akin to superstitious

awe that I held down my hand and assisted him to clamber up the

steep rocks. But no such feeling affected Peterkin. No sooner did

Jack gain the rocks and seat himself on one, panting for breath,

than he threw his arms round his neck, and burst into a flood of

tears. “Oh, Jack, Jack!” said he, “where were you? What kept you

so long?”

 

After a few moments Peterkin became composed enough to sit still

and listen to Jack’s explanation, although he could not restrain

himself from attempting to wink every two minutes at me, in order

to express his joy at Jack’s safety. I say he attempted to wink,

but I am bound to add that he did not succeed, for his eyes were so

much swollen with weeping, that his frequent attempts only resulted

in a series of violent and altogether idiotical contortions of the

face, that were very far from expressing what he intended.

However, I knew what the poor fellow meant by it, so I smiled to

him in return, and endeavoured to make believe that he was winking.

 

“Now, lads,” said Jack, when we were composed enough to listen to

him, “yon green object is not a shark; it is a stream of light

issuing from a cave in the rocks. Just after I made my dive, I

observed that this light came from the side of the rock above which

we are now sitting; so I struck out for it, and saw an opening into

some place or other that appeared to be luminous within. For one

instant I paused to think whether I ought to venture. Then I made

up my mind, and dashed into it. For you see, Peterkin, although I

take some time to tell this, it happened in the space of a few

seconds, so that I knew I had wind enough in me to serve to bring

me out o’ the hole and up to the surface again. Well, I was just

on the point of turning, - for I began to feel a little

uncomfortable in such a place, - when it seemed to me as if there

was a faint light right above me. I darted upwards, and found my

head out of water. This relieved me greatly, for I now felt that I

could take in air enough to enable me to return the way I came.

Then it all at once occurred to me that I might not be able to find

the way out again; but, on glancing downwards, my mind was put

quite at rest by seeing the green light below me streaming into the

cave, just like the light that we had seen streaming out of it,

only what I now saw was much brighter.

 

“At first I could scarcely see anything as I gazed around me, it

was so dark; but gradually my eyes became accustomed to it, and I

found that I was in a huge cave, part of the walls of which I

observed on each side of me. The ceiling just above me was also

visible, and I fancied that I could perceive beautiful glittering

objects there, but the farther end of the cave was shrouded in

darkness. While I was looking around me in great wonder, it came

into my head that you two would think I was drowned; so I plunged

down through the passage again in a great hurry, rose to the

surface, and - here I am!”

 

When Jack concluded his recital of what he had seen in this

remarkable cave, I could not rest satisfied till I had dived down

to see it; which I did, but found it so dark, as Jack had said,

that I could scarcely see anything. When I returned, we had a long

conversation about it, during which I observed that Peterkin had a

most lugubrious expression on his countenance.

 

“What’s the matter, Peterkin?” said I.

 

“The matter?” he replied. “It’s all very well for you two to be

talking away like mermaids about the wonders of this cave, but you

know I must be content to hear about it, while you are enjoying

yourselves down there like mad dolphins. It’s really too bad.”

 

“I’m very sorry for you, Peterkin, indeed I am,” said Jack, “but we

cannot help you. If you would only learn to dive - “

 

“Learn to fly, you might as well say!” retorted Peterkin, in a very

sulky tone.

 

“If you would only consent to keep still,” said I, “we would take

you down with us in ten seconds.”

 

“Hum!” returned Peterkin; “suppose a salamander was to propose to

you ‘only to keep still,’ and he would carry you through a blazing

fire in a few seconds, what would you say?”

 

We both laughed and shook our heads, for it was evident that

nothing was to be made of Peterkin in the water. But we could not

rest satisfied till we had seen more of this cave; so, after

further consultation, Jack and I determined to try if we could take

down a torch with us, and set fire to it in the cavern. This we

found to be an undertaking of no small difficulty; but we

accomplished it at last by the following means:- First, we made a

torch of a very inflammable nature out of the bark of a certain

tree, which we cut into strips, and, after twisting, cemented

together with a kind of resin or gum, which we also obtained from

another tree; neither of which trees, however, was known by name to

Jack. This, when prepared, we wrapped up in a great number of

plies of cocoa-nut cloth, so that we were confident it could not

get wet during the short time it should be under water. Then we

took a small piece of the tinder, which we had carefully treasured

up lest we should require it, as before said, when the sun should

fail us; also, we rolled up some dry grass and a few chips, which,

with a little bow and drill, like those described before, we made

into another bundle, and wrapped it up in cocoa-nut cloth. When

all was ready we laid aside our garments, with the exception of our

trousers, which, as we did not know what rough scraping against the

rocks we might be subjected to, we kept on.

 

Then we advanced to the edge of the rocks, Jack carrying one

bundle, with the torch; I the other, with the things for producing

fire.

 

“Now don’t weary for us, Peterkin, should we be gone some time,”

said Jack; “we’ll be sure to return in half-an-hour at the very

latest, however interesting the cave should be, that we may relieve

your mind.”

 

“Farewell!” said Peterkin, coming up to us with a look of deep but

pretended solemnity, while he shook hands and kissed each of us on

the cheek. “Farewell! and while you are gone I shall repose my

weary limbs under the shelter of this bush, and meditate on the

changefulness of all things earthly, with special reference to the

forsaken condition of a poor shipwrecked sailor boy!” So saying,

Peterkin waved his hand, turned from us, and cast himself upon the

ground with a look of melancholy resignation, which was so well

feigned, that I would have thought it genuine had he not

accompanied it with a gentle wink. We both laughed, and, springing

from the rocks together, plunged head first into the sea.

 

We gained the interior of the submarine cave without difficulty,

and, on emerging from the waves, supported ourselves for some time

by treading-water, while we held the two bundles above our heads.

This we did in order to let our eyes become accustomed to the

obscurity. Then, when we could see sufficiently, we swam to a

shelving rock, and landed in safety. Having wrung the water from

our trousers, and dried ourselves as well as we could under the

circumstances, we proceeded to ignite the torch. This we

accomplished without difficulty in a few minutes; and no sooner did

it flare up than we were struck dumb with the wonderful objects

that were revealed to our gaze. The roof of the cavern just above

us seemed to be about ten feet high, but grew higher as it receded

into the distance, until it was lost in darkness. It seemed to be

made of coral, and was supported by massive columns of the same

material. Immense icicles (as they appeared to us) hung from it in

various places. These, however, were formed, not of ice, but of a

species of limestone, which seemed to flow in a liquid form towards

the point of each, where it became solid. A good many drops fell,

however, to the rock below, and these formed little cones, which

rose to meet the points above. Some of them had already met, and

thus we saw how the pillars were formed, which at first seemed to

us as if they had been placed there by some human architect to

support the roof. As we advanced farther in, we saw that the floor

was composed of the same material as the pillars; and it presented

the curious appearance of ripples, such as are formed on water when

gently ruffled by the wind. There were several openings on either

hand in the walls, that seemed to lead into other caverns; but

these we did not explore at this time. We also observed that the

ceiling was curiously marked in many places, as if it were the

fret-work of a noble cathedral; and the walls, as well as the roof,

sparkled in the light of our torch, and threw back gleams and

flashes, as if they were covered with precious stones. Although we

proceeded far into this cavern, we did not come to the end of it;

and we were obliged to return more speedily than we would otherwise

have done, as our torch was nearly expended. We did not observe

any openings in the roof, or any indications of places whereby

light might enter; but near the entrance to the cavern stood an

immense mass of pure white coral rock, which caught and threw back

the little light that found an entrance through the cave’s mouth,

and thus produced, we conjectured, the pale-green object which had

first attracted our attention. We concluded, also, that the

reflecting power of this rock was that which gave forth the dim

light that faintly illumined the first part of the cave.

 

Before diving through the passage again we extinguished the small

piece of our torch that remained, and left it in a dry spot;

conceiving that we might possibly stand in need of it, if at any

future time we should chance to wet our torch while diving into the

cavern. As we stood for a few minutes after it was out, waiting

till our eyes became accustomed to the gloom, we could not help

remarking the deep, intense stillness and the unutterable gloom of

all around us; and, as I thought of the stupendous dome above, and

the countless gems that had sparkled in the torch-light a few

minutes before, it came into my mind to consider how strange it is

that God should make such wonderful and extremely-beautiful works

never to be seen at all, except, indeed, by chance visitors such