"Help me, it's stuck!" Sarah jumped down beside her, and grabbed the tail of the rope.
"The Shana have found us." She heaved on the rope.
"Yes. We heard you."
"What shall we do, Pendula?"
"Let's get Craig out of here first. He will think of something." Suddenly the rope gave, as forty feet below Craig managed to force himself through the narrow opening in the wall) and the two girls hauled him upwards hand over hand.
Oxygen bubbles burst in a seething rash on the surface of the pool, and they saw Craig coming up through the gin-clear water, the masking transforming him into some grotesque sea monster. He reached the surface and ripped the mask off his head, snorting and coughing at the fresh air.
"What is it?" he choked as he splashed to the edge of the rock slab.
"The Shana are here." Both girls together, in English and Sindebele.
"Oh GaR Craig collapsed weakly onto the slab. "Oh GaR "What shall we do, Craig?" They were both staring at him piteously, and the cold and the pain in his head seemed to paralyse him.
Abruptly the air around their heads reverberated as d-lough they were within the sounding body of a kettledrum beaten at a furious tempo.
"Gunfire!" Craig whispered, covering his ears to protect them. "Sam has made contact."
"How long can he hold them
"Depends if they use grenades, or gas-" he left it hanging and straightened up, shivering violently. He stared back at them. They seemed to sense his despair, and looked away.
"Where is the pistol?" Sarah asked fearfully, glancing up at the twist of goat-skin in the crack of the rock wall.
"No," Craig snapped. "Not that." He reached out and caught her arm. He pulled hi mse If together, shaking off despair as he shook the water from his hair.
"Have you ever used an aqualung?" he demanded of Sally-Anne. She shook her head.
"Well, now is as good a time-"
"I couldn't go in the reP Fearfully Sally' Anne stared into the pool.
"You can do anything you have to do," he snarled at her.
"Listen, I have found another branch of the shaft that comes up above surface. It will take three or four minutes-"
No, "Sally-Anne cringed away from him.
"I'll take you through first," he said. "Then I will come back for Sarah."
"I would rather die here, Pupho," the black girl whispered.
"Then you'll get your wish." Craig was already changing the oxygen bottle, screwing on one of the fresh cylinders, and he turned his attention back to Sally-Anne.
"You put your arms around me and breathe slowly and easily. Hold each breath as long as you can, then let it out carefully. The hole in the wall is narrow, but you are smaller than I am, you'll make it easily." He lifted the oxygen set over her head and lowered it onto her shoulders. "I will go through first, and pull you behind me. Once we are through it is straight up. As we go up just remember to exhale as the oxygen in your lungs expands again or you will pop likea paper bag. Come on.
"Craig, I'm afraid."
"Never thought I'd hear you say that." Waist-deep in the pool he fitted the mask over the lower half of her face.
"Don't fight it," he told her. "Keep your eyes closed and relax. I will tow you. Don't struggle, for God's sake, don't struggle." She nodded at him, gagged by the mask, and again the gallery echoed to the deafening roar of automatic rifle-fire from above.
"Closer, Craig muttered. "Sam is being driven back." Then he called to Sarah on the slab above them.
"Give me my leg!" Sarah handed it down to him. He strapped it to his belt. "While I'm away, pack all the food you can find into the canvas bags. The spare lamps and batteries also I'll be back for you inside ten minutes." He began to hyperventilate, holding to his chest the boulder that would weigh them down. He gestured to Sally-Anne and she waded up behind him and put her arms around him under his armpits.
"Take a good breath and play dead," he ordered, and filled his own lungs for the last time. He fell forward with ally-Anne clinging to his back and they dropped together down towards the tomb entrance.
Halfway down Craig heard the click of the valves in her mask, and felt Sally-Anne's chest subside and swell as she breathed, and he tensed for her coughing fit. There wasn't one.
They reached the entrance and he dropped the stone and drew her up to the wall. Gently he disentangled her hands, trying to make his movements calm and unhurried.
He backed into the aperture, holding both her hands, and pulled her in after him. Unencumbered by the oxygen gear he slid through easily.
He heard her hr e again. "Good girlP he applauded th silently. "Good brave girl!" For a moment her gear jammed in the aperture, but he reached forward and freed it, then eased her towards him.
She was through. Thank you, God, she was through.
Now up! They were accelerating, pressure squeaking in his ears. He prodded her sharply in the ribs, and heard the rush of bubbles as she released the expanding oxygen from her lungs.
PeT "Clever girl." He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.
The ascent took so long that he began to fear he had lost his way, and taken a false branch of the tunnel, and then suddenly they broke out through the surface and he pumped for air.
Gasping, he reached across and switched on her lamp.
"You're not good," he panted. "You are simply bloody marvelous!" He towed her to the foot of the ladder and began stripping off her oxygen gear.
"Get up the ladder, out of the water," he grunted. "Here, strap my leg to the rung. I'll be back soonest." He did not waste time on the difficult task of donning the gear while treading water, instead he tucked the canisters under his arm.
He had no stone to weight himself down so he depressed the valve and emptied the oxygen bag. The set was now negatively buoyant starting to pull him under.
He could not use oxygen so he would have to free-dive again. He hung onto a rung of the ladder work while he pumped his lungs with air, and then duck-dived.
At the wall he slid backwards through the opening and pulled the empty set after him. With the bag deflated, it came through readily enough. At the entrance to the grand gallery, he opened the tap of the oxygen cylinder. Gas hissed into the bag, swelling it, and immediately it was buoyant again. It drew Craig rapidly up to the surface of the pool.
Sarah was perched on the edge of the slab, but she had the canvas bags packed and ready.
"Come on!" Craig gasped.
Tupho, I cannot."
"Get your little black arse down here! he rasped hoarsely.
"Here, take the bags, I will stay."
Craig reached up and caught her ankle. He yanked her off the slab, and she splashed into the water and clung to him.
"Do you know what the Shana will do to you?" Roughly he pulled the yoke of the set over her head, and there was another burst of machine-gun fire above them, the ricochets wailing off the upper walls of the gallery.