Vulmea was after it, his berserk fury fully roused. He did not wish the wounded reptile to crawl away and hide, perhaps to return later and take them by surprise. Through chamber after chamber the chase led, in a direction neither of the men had followed in his former explorations, and at last into a room almost choked by tangled vines. Tearing these aside Vulmea stared into a black aperture in the wall, just in time to see the monster vanishing into its depths. Wentyard, trembling in every limb, had followed, and now looked over the pirate-- shoulder. A reptilian reek came from the aperture, which they now saw as an arched doorway, partly masked by thick vines. Enough moonlight found its way through the roof to reveal a glimpse of stone steps leading up into darkness.
-- missed this,--muttered Vulmea.--hen I found the stair I didn't look any further for an exit. Look how the door-sill glistens with scales that have been rubbed off that brute-- belly. He uses it often. I believe those steps lead to a tunnel that goes clear through the cliffs. There-- nothing in this bowl that even a snake could eat or drink. He has to go out into the jungle to get water and food. If he was in the habit of going out by the way of the ravine, there-- be a path worn away through the vegetation, like there is in this room. Besides, the Indians wouldn't stay in the ravine. Unless there-- some other exit we haven't found, I believe that he comes and goes this way, and that means it lets into the outer world. It-- worth trying, anyway.----ou mean to follow that fiend into that black tunnel?--ejaculated Wentyard aghast.
--hy not? We--e got to follow and kill him anyway. If we run into a nest of them--well, we--e got to die some time, and if we wait here much longer the Cimarroons will be cutting our throats. This is a chance to get away, I believe. But we won't go in the dark.-- Hurrying back to the room where they had cooked the monkey, Vulmea caught up a fagot, wrapped a torn strip of his shirt about one end and set it smouldering in the coals which he blew into a tiny flame. The improvised torch flickered and smoked, but it cast light of a sort. Vulmea strode back to the chamber where the snake had vanished, followed by Wentyard who stayed close within the dancing ring of light, and saw writhing serpents in every vine that swayed overhead.
The torch revealed blood thickly spattered on the stone steps. Squeezing their way between the tangled vines which did not admit a man't body as easily as a serpent--, they mounted the steps warily. Vulmea went first, holding the torch high and ahead of him, his cutlass in his right hand. He had thrown away the useless, empty pistols. They climbed half a dozen steps and came into a tunnel some fifteen feet wide and perhaps ten feet high from the stone floor to the vaulted roof. The serpent-reek and the glisten of the floor told of long occupancy by the brute, and the blood-drops ran on before them.
The walls, floor and roof of the tunnel were in a much better state of preservation than were the ruins outside, and Wentyard found time to marvel at the ingenuity of the ancient race which had built it.
Meanwhile, in the moonlit chamber they had just quitted, a giant black man appeared as silently as a shadow. His great spear glinted in the moonlight, and the plumes on his head rustled as he turned to look about him. Four warriors followed him.
--hey went into that door,--said one of these, pointing to the vine-tangled entrance.--saw their torch vanish into it. But I feared to follow them, alone as I was, and I ran to tell you, Bigomba.----ut what of the screams and the shot we heard just before we descended the shaft?--asked another uneasily.
-- think they met the demon and slew it,--answered Bigomba.--hen they went into this door. Perhaps it is a tunnel which leads through the cliffs. One of you go gather the rest of the warriors who are scattered through the rooms searching for the white dogs. Bring them after me. Bring torches with you. As for me, I will follow with the other three, at once. Bigomba sees like a lion in the dark.-- As Vulmea and Wentyard advanced through the tunnel Wentyard watched the torch fearfully. It was not very satisfactory, but it gave some light, and he shuddered to think of its going out or burning to a stump and leaving them in darkness. He strained his eyes into the gloom ahead, momentarily expecting to see a vague, hideous figure rear up amidst it. But when Vulmea halted suddenly it was not because of an appearance of the reptile. They had reached a point where a smaller corridor branched off the main tunnel, leading away to the left.
--hich shall we take?-- Vulmea bent over the floor, lowering his torch.
--he blood-drops go to the left,--he grunted.--hat-- the way he went.--
--ait!--Wentyard gripped his arm and pointed along the main tunnel.--ook! There ahead of us! Light!-- Vulmea thrust his torch behind him, for its flickering glare made the shadows seem blacker beyond its feeble radius. Ahead of them, then, he saw something like a floating gray mist, and knew it was moonlight finding its way somehow into the tunnel. Abandoning the hunt for the wounded reptile, the men rushed forward and emerged into a broad square chamber, hewn out of solid rock. But Wentyard swore in bitter disappointment. The moonlight was coming, not from a door opening into the jungle, but from a square shaft in the roof, high above their heads.
An archway opened in each wall, and the one opposite the arch by which they had entered was fitted with a heavy door, corroded and eaten by decay. Against the wall to their right stood a stone image, taller than a man, a carven grotesque, at once manlike and bestial. A stone altar stood before it, its surface channeled and darkly stained. Something on the idol-- breast caught the moonlight in a frosty sparkle.
--he devil!--Vulmea sprang forward and wrenched it away. He held it up--a thing like a giant-- necklace, made of jointed plates of hammered gold, each as broad as a man't palm and set with curiously-cut jewels.
-- thought I lied when I told you there were gems here,--grunted the pirate.--t seems I spoke the truth unwittingly! These are not the Fangs of Satan, but they--l fetch a tidy fortune anywhere in Europe.----hat are you doing?--demanded Wentyard, as the Irishman laid the huge necklace on the altar and lifted his cutlass. Vulmea's reply was a stroke that severed the ornament into equal halves. One half he thrust into Wentyard-- astounded hands.
--f we get out of here alive that will provide for the wife and child,--he grunted.
--ut you--stammered Wentyard.--ou hate me--yet you save my life and then give me this--
--hut up!--snarled the pirate.---- not giving it to you; I-- giving it to the girl and her baby. Don't you venture to thank me, curse you! I hate you as much as I--
He stiffened suddenly, wheeling to glare down the tunnel up which they had come. He stamped out the torch and crouched down behind the altar, drawing Wentyard with him.
--en!--he snarled.--oming down the tunnel, I heard steel clink on stone. I hope they didn't see the torch. Maybe they didn't. It wasn't much more than a coal in the moonlight.-- They strained their eyes down the tunnel. The moon hovered at an angle above the open shaft which allowed some of its light to stream a short way down the tunnel. Vision ceased at the spot where the smaller corridor branched off. Presently four shadows bulked out of the blackness beyond, taking shape gradually like figures emerging from a thick fog. They halted, and the white men saw the largest one--a giant who towered above the others--point silently with his spear, up the tunnel, then down the corridor. Two of the shadowy shapes detached themselves from the group and moved off down the corridor out of sight. The giant and the other man came on up the tunnel.