I got in the tractor to find Scarsdale already at the chart- table, making notes.
'This is a great day, Plowright, is it not?' he said enthusiastically, his eyes burning in a way I had never seen before. 'In a few minutes we shall be at the spot where I was finally forced to turn back. From here on in we shall be embarked upon a modern voyage of discoveries.'
It was difficult not to be affected by his enthusiasm but I still had my inward misgivings; though I disguised them as best I could and went instead to the control seat and awaited his orders. I asked him what course to steer.
'North, of course,' he said impatiently. Then he added, with a softening glance at me, 'I'm sorry, Plowright, I'm forgetting my manners. Excitement, you know, and pressure. We've only a mile of beach to cross and then we make permanent camp.'
The tractor treads bit softly into the yielding sand and the noise of the motors was now lost in the vastness of the great domed cave as we set off on the last stage of our extraordinary journey through the shimmering, misty light of that underground domain. Van Damm's machine pulled up alongside us and I saw that he had once again raised his pennants which were slightly agitated by the faint wind and that generated by the tractor's passage, which for a moment or so gave me the illusion that we were travelling in the open air.
We had now lost sight of the sides of the cave and were travelling across a wide sandy plain into a shimmering haze which obscured our vision, so that we might have been advancing toward some distant horizon. Indeed, the illusion was so complete that there were times when I completely forgot that we were not still upon the surface. Scarsdale had not forgotten our place or purpose, however, as I noticed he had his revolver out and beside him on the chart-table. Van Damm maintained the radio link and apart from our taking station abreast and the fact that we had no artificial lighting switched on, all seemed as normal as our habitual routine underground.
And yet it was not normal, could not be normal, and for the first time since we had been beneath the surface of the mountains, I began to experience a fueling of tingling excitement; I put this down to the illusion of being on the surface. Truth to tell I could not have maintained my morale had we continued much longer within the eternal darkness of the tunnel. The mileage recorder registered a little over eighty-six miles when we at last came to the extreme limit of our journey, at least so far as the tractors were concerned.
I had for some minutes been conscious of a humidity in the atmosphere and a slight disturbance in the middle distance which resembled the lazy breathing of a restless giant. As we advanced over suddenly wet sand I then saw what appeared to be a thin line of surf which flowed and receded before us, leaving a glistening iridescence upon the sloping surface of what, for want of a better term, I will call the beach. I was already slackening the tractor's speed and at the executive signal both machines turned to port together and we drew back up the shore-line to a commanding position where the water was unlikely to penetrate.
Curiously, now that we were nere Scarsdale seemed to nave lost all interest in the scene before us. To my mild astonishment 1 heard him give radio orders to Van Damm that no-one was to leave the tractors; that as soon as engines were switched off we were to start battery re-charging procedures, clear up the interiors, check rubber boats, weapons and ammunition. Looking back now, this routine and somewhat dull programme made excellent sense. We did not know what we would be facing and there would be all the time in the world for examination of our surroundings later.
Our survival would depend upon the efficiency of our equipment and if anything happened to the tractors it seemed, despite the Professor's previous experience, unlikely that so large a party would get back on foot without some major disaster. Scarsdale was an exceptional man and one built for survival under adverse conditions, but I did not see myself as being cast from that heroic mould and the remainder of our companions, though exceptional men in their fields, were probably not of sufficient physical calibre, though these things are always difficult to ascertain with any degree of accuracy.
So we spent the remainder of the morning on our allotted tasks, without going outside and even lunched within the tractors, until our leader was satisfied that things were as far forward as they could possibly be. Then he set us all to dragging out the rubber boats, military stores and other equipment on to the foreshore; it was not until late afternoon, when we had set a guard, inflated the two large rubber boats and set up two machine-guns on tripods that he announced his plans. To our astonishment he said that it would be a further two days before we would embark upon the underground lake; he called it a lake but it was like a small tidal sea. He did not know its limits but despite the vast length of the tunnel we had traversed, he would guess it to be fairly small, even though it had a minute tidal movement. He had ascertained on his previous visit that the water was brackish and it did not seem to contain any marine life of any sort.
His plan was to continue to steer almost due north and hope to hit another beach on the far side of the lake. The party would then explore onwards, always leaving good margins for food, water and stores in order that we could return. The boats would be left on the far shore and we would then proceed with tents. The time spent at the present site, which Scarsdale had designated Camp Two, to distinguish it from the spot where we had left the reserve tractor at the tunnel entrance, would be employed in training and exploration.
As I saw it Scarsdale intended us to concentrate on our weapon training; and we would also be taught how to handle the somewhat cumbersome rubber boats, which were of bright red material, which stood out well under the dim phosphorescence of the atmosphere. We would try to explore the limits of the beach; take samples of sand, rock and water for analysis; perform life-jacket and life-saving drill; practise filling the special packs in which we would have to transport our belongings; and also pitch tents and strike camp, all things we would have to get used to on the other side of the lake.
Scarsdale, somewhat jokingly, had suggested naming the tunnel along which we had so laboriously travelled, the Van Damm Passage, in honour of our companion; the doctor had flushed scarlet at this and had stammeringly disclaimed the distinction but Scarsdale insisted on pencilling it on the large- scale maps that were being drawn by our companions. Now, as we walked briefly on our first reconnoitre towards the shore, Van Damm reciprocated by suggesting that we dub the lake the Scarsdale Sea, a suggestion which found favour with the whole party.
It was in this amiable state of mind that we all set to after lunch, only Prescott's movements being conscribed, as he was on the first guard-duty, having to remain by the tractors and within easy reach of the klaxon and machine-gun. The remainder of us then walked slowly down towards the water's edge, three of us at least marvelling at the unearthly vista before us. Before I describe our surroundings, one action of the Professor's drew audible comment from Holden; oblivious to the weird beauty of the scene he seated himself on a spur of black, basaltic rock which thrust itself out of the sand before us and buried himself in The Ethics of Ygor, occasionally humming to himself as he consulted his columns of figures.
We waited politely until he had finished his calculations before moving on; when he was ready Scarsdale jumped up with a muttered apology and came towards us. He then acted as our guide, setting off along the shore at a brisk pace, the rest of us falling into step. I do not think I shall ever forget the spectacle that was spread before us that afternoon, in a place which had no dawn, day, night or sunset and in which all sense of time was lost; a region of other-worldly beauty which we were forced to subordinate to our man-made notions of time, order and routine.