The Plant Hunters Part 30

"We can try him."

And as Caspar made this suggestion, all stood silent and listening.

They stood a long while to give the dog a fair trial, but he knew not what they wanted, and he remained patiently beside them without manifesting any disposition to leave. The experiment was a failure.

"Now," suggested Karl, "let us urge him forward and follow after-- perhaps he will lead us in that way."

Fritz was now commanded to advance, and obeyed the command--for they could hear him start off with a slight whimper; but to their chagrin they found that they could not tell in what direction he had gone. Had he been running on the scent of some animal, his occasional baying would have served to guide them, as it had done while they were chasing the bear. Now, however, the dog ran without noise; and although they could hear an occasional sc.r.a.pe of his claws, yet it was not sufficiently frequent or continuous to guide them. The experiment again failed, and Fritz was whistled back.

But it was not without result. Like many other failures, it led to reflection and a rearrangement of the machinery. A better plan soon offered itself to the quick wit of Caspar; and Ossaroo had been thinking of something similar when he cried out--

"Tie string to ee tail!"

"No," replied Caspar, "not to his tail, for then he would not go forward; but let us hold him in a leash with the string round his neck, in a regular way. That will be better, I warrant."

No sooner said than done. Thongs and belts were loosed from powder-horns and pouches; a leash was constructed and fastened round the neck of the dog, and he was then hunted forward as before.

Caspar handled the straps, and the others followed, guided by Caspar's voice.

In this order they had scrambled along for a hundred yards or more, when the dog began to whimper, and then to bay, as if going upon a trail; and in a moment or two after, he came, all of a sudden, to a stop.

Caspar felt by his strong pulling on the leash, that the dog had sprung forward and seized something. He stooped down and felt before him.

Instead of the hard cold rocks, his fingers came in contact with a ma.s.s of long s.h.a.ggy hair.

Alas! their hopes were dispelled. Instead of conducting to the mouth of the cave, Fritz had only brought them back to the carca.s.s of the bear!

CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT.

CAVERN-LIFE.

They were all filled with disappointment, and particularly that the dog, having arrived at the spot where the bear had been killed, would go no farther. Drive him as they would by commands, or coax him by words of encouragement, he would not part from the carca.s.s. Even when carried off to some distance, and let go, he always drew Caspar back to the same spot. It was very vexatious.

So thought they at first; but after a little reflection, they began to think better of it; and to recognise in this incident something more than chance. Karl especially thought so, and pointed out to his companions that the hand of Providence had to do with it; and that that same hand would yet conduct them safely out of the dismal dungeon into which they had so imprudently ventured.

Karl's words had a cheering effect; for he pointed out how fortunate it was for them that they had once more found the carca.s.s. But for that they should have had nothing to eat, and, as a matter of course, would have soon perished of hunger.

Now, however, that the bear was found, they could subsist upon his flesh for days; and during one of these days they might succeed in reaching the entrance. They would take care not to lose the knowledge of the place where the carca.s.s lay; and whatever excursion they might make from that spot, they should always arrange some clue by which they might return to it.

Fortunately for them there was water in the cavern. In many places it dripped from the rocks in sufficient quant.i.ty to give them as much as they wanted for drink; and not far off they had crossed a little rivulet that ran down the bottom of one of the great galleries. This they knew they could find again; and, consequently they felt no apprehensions on the score of water.

It was a question, then, how long they would be in finding the entrance, and how long they could live upon the flesh of the bear.

The finding of Bruin's carca.s.s had considerably bettered their prospects; and as they gathered around it to dinner, they felt more cheerful than they had done since the moment when they had laid it low.

As they ate, it was dark enough around them to have called the meal a supper; and it was long enough since they had eaten their breakfast-- though they could not guess how long--but as they had eaten nothing since breakfast, they styled this first meal upon the bear-meat their dinner.

No dinner or supper was ever cooked like that--_it was not cooked at all_! for they had no fire wherewith to cook it.

They were not squeamish. A very long interval had transpired since they had eaten their slight breakfast. Karl and Caspar had refrained from the uncooked viand until their appet.i.te could resist no longer; and then the raw flesh of the bear became palatable enough. It was supper time with Ossaroo. His stomach had more easily got over its scruples, and he had bolted his dinner long, long ago; so that when the others sat down to their first meal, Ossaroo was able to join them at his second.

Both Karl and Caspar ate heartily enough,--quite as heartily as if a chandelier with its wax-lights had been sparkling over their heads.

Perhaps the absence of light was a circ.u.mstance in their favour. The huge paws--those "t.i.tbits" of the bear's flesh--const.i.tuted their dinner; and hunters will tell you that, boiled, roasted, or _raw_, a bear's paw is not bad eating.

When they had finished their meal, all three groped their way to where they heard the trickling of water.

They found a place where it oozed in a rapid and continuous dripping through the rocks; and, applying their mouths to this subterranean fountain, they were enabled in a few moments to slake their thirst.

They then returned to where they had dined; and, being now much wearied with their long-continued exertions, they stretched themselves upon the rocks with the intention of having some sleep. Though their bed was a hard one, it was not cold; for in the interior of great caverns it is never cold. There the temperature is more equable than that of the atmosphere without--being cooler in summer and warmer in winter, so that variety is scarcely known--at all events, the extremes of heat and cold are never felt. This is the ease with the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky, and other large caverns; and on this account it has been thought that persons suffering from pulmonary complaints might derive benefit by dwelling in caves. There are many such patients who make their home in the Mammoth; and where a commodious hotel enables them to live in comfort, and even luxury! It is possible enough that the mild and equable temperature that exists under ground may enable the victim of consumption to prolong life for a considerable time: but it is doubtful whether any radical cure can be effected in this way; and the unfortunate sufferer, once he emerges from his subterranean dwelling, will be in as much danger from the insidious disease as before.

Little did Karl, Caspar, and Ossaroo, care for the mild atmosphere that surrounded them in the cavern. They would gladly have exchanged it for the hottest country in the torrid zone, or the coldest spot in all the Arctic regions. Biting mosquitos in the former, or biting frost in the latter, would have been more welcome than that mild and gentle climate that surrounded them--that gloomy atmosphere, where sun had never shone, and where snow had never fallen.

Notwithstanding their anxiety of mind, their weariness at length overcame them, and all three fell fast asleep.

CHAPTER FIFTY NINE.

EXPLORATION OF THE CAVE.

They slept a good long while, though, whether if was by night or by day, they had no means of judging. They could only guess at it, by remembering how much time had transpired since they first entered the cave; but to show how little trust can be placed in any conjectures of this sort, they differed from one another in their estimates full twelve hours!

Karl thought they had been wandering about nearly two days and a night; while the others believed the time not so long by twelve hours at least.

Karl adduced a reason for his belief--the ravenous appet.i.te which they had acquired, and which must have taken a long time to grow upon them; moreover, they had slept so long that he thought it must be in the night-time--the natural time of rest, which the nerves would understand without any clock to guide them. Karl admitted that his second reason was somewhat lame, since, having missed one night of sleep, their nerves on the day following would not be very nice about what hour they should feel inclined towards slumber.

It is probable, however, that Karl was right in his conjecture. They had been long hours wandering to and fro, and had rested many times.

The fuelling of horrid anxiety under which they had been suffering always impelled them to press on; and no wonder they had lost all definite recollection of the distance they had gone, or the time thus fruitlessly spent. It had taken them a good while to get the ladder in place; and the first day had been far spent before they were ready to penetrate the cave. It was, therefore, quite probable that their first sleep had been during the second night, after entering their gloomy chamber.

Whether or not they had slept long and soundly enough--though not without troubled dreams--in which they had encountered bears, fierce s.h.a.ggy yak-bulls, deep dangerous pits into which they were about to fall, and high cliffs they were trying in vain to climb--it was quite natural they should dream of such things.

It was the awaking that was most unnatural. Instead of a bright suns.h.i.+ne to greet their eyes, or the soft blue light of morning, they saw nought--all around was gloom. Instead of the music of birds, or even the cheering sounds of active life, they heard nought. All around was the silence of the tomb!

A tomb it might yet be to them--for a short while, perhaps, a living tomb; but, sooner or later, a tomb for their dead bodies--a sepulchre for their bones!

Such were their reflections on awaking. Their dreams while asleep were even less horrid than the reality to which they awoke!

If the sense of sleep regards not the absence of light, still less is the appet.i.te of hunger affected by it. Once more the bear's paws were drawn upon for a meal, and afforded it without boil or broil, bread or salt.

As soon as they had eaten to their satisfaction, they rose to their feet, and set about the work which Karl had already traced out in his thoughts. Of course, before going about it he had fully communicated his plans to his companions.

They were to make excursions in every direction from the spot where the bear had been killed. There were many galleries leading from the place--they had noticed that while their torches were yet burning. All these they designed to explore, one after another. The explorations were at first to be for short distances, until they had made themselves familiar with the pa.s.sage extending in some one particular direction.

This they would accomplish by _feeling_ the rocks on either side, until they became thoroughly acquainted with the protuberances, or other marks that could be used as guides. If none existed, they would make them, by piling up stones at such places, or chipping a piece from the stalact.i.tes with the hatchet. Their design, in effect, was to "blaze"

the pa.s.sages, so that they would know them again, just as a woodman marks his way through the pathless forest.

It was altogether an ingenious idea, and one that with time and patience promised success. Indeed, it seemed the only plan that held out a hope beyond mere chance--for amidst so many devious ways, to have proceeded without some plan would have been to trust to chance, and that they had tried already.

They well knew that to carry out their design would require both time and patience; but by this, all three were well drilled in the lessons of patience. The bridge-building had been a school for them. It might not take much time, but it might; and for either result had they made their minds ready.