by Mark Twain
theirquest. They wound this way and that, far down into the secret depths ofthe cave, made another mark, and branched off in search of novelties totell the upper world about. In one place they found a spacious cavern,from whose ceiling depended a multitude of shining stalactites of thelength and circumference of a man's leg; they walked all about it,wondering and admiring, and presently left it by one of the numerouspassages that opened into it. This shortly brought them to a bewitchingspring, whose basin was incrusted with a frostwork of glitteringcrystals; it was in the midst of a cavern whose walls were supported bymany fantastic pillars which had been formed by the joining of greatstalactites and stalagmites together, the result of the ceaselesswater-drip of centuries. Under the roof vast knots of bats had packedthemselves together, thousands in a bunch; the lights disturbed thecreatures and they came flocking down by hundreds, squeaking anddarting furiously at the candles. Tom knew their ways and the danger ofthis sort of conduct. He seized Becky's hand and hurried her into thefirst corridor that offered; and none too soon, for a bat struckBecky's light out with its wing while she was passing out of thecavern. The bats chased the children a good distance; but the fugitivesplunged into every new passage that offered, and at last got rid of theperilous things. Tom found a subterranean lake, shortly, whichstretched its dim length away until its shape was lost in the shadows.He wanted to explore its borders, but concluded that it would be bestto sit down and rest awhile, first. Now, for the first time, the deepstillness of the place laid a clammy hand upon the spirits of thechildren. Becky said:
"Why, I didn't notice, but it seems ever so long since I heard any ofthe others."
"Come to think, Becky, we are away down below them--and I don't knowhow far away north, or south, or east, or whichever it is. We couldn'thear them here."
Becky grew apprehensive.
"I wonder how long we've been down here, Tom? We better start back."
"Yes, I reckon we better. P'raps we better."
"Can you find the way, Tom? It's all a mixed-up crookedness to me."
"I reckon I could find it--but then the bats. If they put our candlesout it will be an awful fix. Let's try some other way, so as not to gothrough there."
"Well. But I hope we won't get lost. It would be so awful!" and thegirl shuddered at the thought of the dreadful possibilities.
They started through a corridor, and traversed it in silence a longway, glancing at each new opening, to see if there was anythingfamiliar about the look of it; but they were all strange. Every timeTom made an examination, Becky would watch his face for an encouragingsign, and he would say cheerily:
"Oh, it's all right. This ain't the one, but we'll come to it rightaway!"
But he felt less and less hopeful with each failure, and presentlybegan to turn off into diverging avenues at sheer random, in desperatehope of finding the one that was wanted. He still said it was "allright," but there was such a leaden dread at his heart that the wordshad lost their ring and sounded just as if he had said, "All is lost!"Becky clung to his side in an anguish of fear, and tried hard to keepback the tears, but they would come. At last she said:
"Oh, Tom, never mind the bats, let's go back that way! We seem to getworse and worse off all the time."
"Listen!" said he.
Profound silence; silence so deep that even their breathings wereconspicuous in the hush. Tom shouted. The call went echoing down theempty aisles and died out in the distance in a faint sound thatresembled a ripple of mocking laughter.
"Oh, don't do it again, Tom, it is too horrid," said Becky.
"It is horrid, but I better, Becky; they might hear us, you know," andhe shouted again.
The "might" was even a chillier horror than the ghostly laughter, itso confessed a perishing hope. The children stood still and listened;but there was no result. Tom turned upon the back track at once, andhurried his steps. It was but a little while before a certainindecision in his manner revealed another fearful fact to Becky--hecould not find his way back!
"Oh, Tom, you didn't make any marks!"
"Becky, I was such a fool! Such a fool! I never thought we might wantto come back! No--I can't find the way. It's all mixed up."
"Tom, Tom, we're lost! we're lost! We never can get out of this awfulplace! Oh, why DID we ever leave the others!"
She sank to the ground and burst into such a frenzy of crying that Tomwas appalled with the idea that she might die, or lose her reason. Hesat down by her and put his arms around her; she buried her face in hisbosom, she clung to him, she poured out her terrors, her unavailingregrets, and the far echoes turned them all to jeering laughter. Tombegged her to pluck up hope again, and she said she could not. He fellto blaming and abusing himself for getting her into this miserablesituation; this had a better effect. She said she would try to hopeagain, she would get up and follow wherever he might lead if only hewould not talk like that any more. For he was no more to blame thanshe, she said.
So they moved on again--aimlessly--simply at random--all they could dowas to move, keep moving. For a little while, hope made a show ofreviving--not with any reason to back it, but only because it is itsnature to revive when the spring has not been taken out of it by ageand familiarity with failure.
By-and-by Tom took Becky's candle and blew it out. This economy meantso much! Words were not needed. Becky understood, and her hope diedagain. She knew that Tom had a whole candle and three or four pieces inhis pockets--yet he must economize.
By-and-by, fatigue began to assert its claims; the children tried topay attention, for it was dreadful to think of sitting down when timewas grown to be so precious, moving, in some direction, in anydirection, was at least progress and might bear fruit; but to sit downwas to invite death and shorten its pursuit.
At last Becky's frail limbs refused to carry her farther. She satdown. Tom rested with her, and they talked of home, and the friendsthere, and the comfortable beds and, above all, the light! Becky cried,and Tom tried to think of some way of comforting her, but all hisencouragements were grown threadbare with use, and sounded likesarcasms. Fatigue bore so heavily upon Becky that she drowsed off tosleep. Tom was grateful. He sat looking into her drawn face and saw itgrow smooth and natural under the influence of pleasant dreams; andby-and-by a smile dawned and rested there. The peaceful face reflectedsomewhat of peace and healing into his own spirit, and his thoughtswandered away to bygone times and dreamy memories. While he was deep inhis musings, Becky woke up with a breezy little laugh--but it wasstricken dead upon her lips, and a groan followed it.
"Oh, how COULD I sleep! I wish I never, never had waked! No! No, Idon't, Tom! Don't look so! I won't say it again."
"I'm glad you've slept, Becky; you'll feel rested, now, and we'll findthe way out."
"We can try, Tom; but I've seen such a beautiful country in my dream.I reckon we are going there."
"Maybe not, maybe not. Cheer up, Becky, and let's go on trying."
They rose up and wandered along, hand in hand and hopeless. They triedto estimate how long they had been in the cave, but all they knew wasthat it seemed days and weeks, and yet it was plain that this could notbe, for their candles were not gone yet. A long time after this--theycould not tell how long--Tom said they must go softly and listen fordripping water--they must find a spring. They found one presently, andTom said it was time to rest again. Both were cruelly tired, yet Beckysaid she thought she could go a little farther. She was surprised tohear Tom dissent. She could not understand it. They sat down, and Tomfastened his candle to the wall in front of them with some clay.Thought was soon busy; nothing was said for some time. Then Becky brokethe silence:
"Tom, I am so hungry!"
Tom took something out of his pocket.
"Do you remember this?" said he.
Becky almost smiled.
"It's our wedding-cake, Tom."
"Yes--I wish it was as big as a barrel, for it's all we've got."
"I saved it from the picnic for us to dream on, Tom, the way grown-uppeople do with wedd
ing-cake--but it'll be our--"
She dropped the sentence where it was. Tom divided the cake and Beckyate with good appetite, while Tom nibbled at his moiety. There wasabundance of cold water to finish the feast with. By-and-by Beckysuggested that they move on again. Tom was silent a moment. Then hesaid:
"Becky, can you bear it if I tell you something?"
Becky's face paled, but she thought she could.
"Well, then, Becky, we must stay here, where there's water to drink.That little piece is our last candle!"
Becky gave loose to tears and wailings. Tom did what he could tocomfort her, but with little effect. At length Becky said:
"Tom!"
"Well, Becky?"
"They'll miss us and hunt for us!"
"Yes, they will! Certainly they will!"
"Maybe they're hunting for us now, Tom."
"Why, I reckon maybe they are. I hope they are."
"When would they miss us, Tom?"
"When they get back to the boat, I reckon."
"Tom, it might be dark then--would they notice we hadn't come?"
"I don't know. But anyway, your mother would miss you as soon as theygot home."
A frightened look in Becky's face brought Tom to his senses and he sawthat he had made a blunder. Becky was not to have gone home that night!The children became silent and thoughtful. In a moment a new burst ofgrief from Becky showed Tom that the thing in his mind had struck hersalso--that the Sabbath morning might be half spent before Mrs. Thatcherdiscovered that Becky was not at Mrs. Harper's.
The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of candle and watchedit melt slowly and pitilessly away; saw the half inch of wick standalone at last; saw the feeble flame rise and fall, climb the thincolumn of smoke, linger at its top a moment, and then--the horror ofutter darkness reigned!
How long afterward it was that Becky came to a slow consciousness thatshe was crying in Tom's arms, neither could tell. All that they knewwas, that after what seemed a mighty stretch of time, both awoke out ofa dead stupor of sleep and resumed their miseries once more. Tom saidit might be Sunday, now--maybe Monday. He tried to get Becky to talk,but her sorrows were too oppressive, all her hopes were gone. Tom saidthat they must have been missed long ago, and no doubt the search wasgoing on. He would shout and maybe some one would come. He tried it;but in the darkness the distant echoes sounded so hideously that hetried it no more.
The hours wasted away, and hunger came to torment the captives again.A portion of Tom's half of the cake was left; they divided and ate it.But they seemed hungrier than before. The poor morsel of food onlywhetted desire.
By-and-by Tom said:
"SH! Did you hear that?"
Both held their breath and listened. There was a sound like thefaintest, far-off shout. Instantly Tom answered it, and leading Beckyby the hand, started groping down the corridor in its direction.Presently he listened again; again the sound was heard, and apparentlya little nearer.
"It's them!" said Tom; "they're coming! Come along, Becky--we're allright now!"
The joy of the prisoners was almost overwhelming. Their speed wasslow, however, because pitfalls were somewhat common, and had to beguarded against. They shortly came to one and had to stop. It might bethree feet deep, it might be a hundred--there was no passing it at anyrate. Tom got down on his breast and reached as far down as he could.No bottom. They must stay there and wait until the searchers came. Theylistened; evidently the distant shoutings were growing more distant! amoment or two more and they had gone altogether. The heart-sinkingmisery of it! Tom whooped until he was hoarse, but it was of no use. Hetalked hopefully to Becky; but an age of anxious waiting passed and nosounds came again.
The children groped their way back to the spring. The weary timedragged on; they slept again, and awoke famished and woe-stricken. Tombelieved it must be Tuesday by this time.
Now an idea struck him. There were some side passages near at hand. Itwould be better to explore some of these than bear the weight of theheavy time in idleness. He took a kite-line from his pocket, tied it toa projection, and he and Becky started, Tom in the lead, unwinding theline as he groped along. At the end of twenty steps the corridor endedin a "jumping-off place." Tom got down on his knees and felt below, andthen as far around the corner as he could reach with his handsconveniently; he made an effort to stretch yet a little farther to theright, and at that moment, not twenty yards away, a human hand, holdinga candle, appeared from behind a rock! Tom lifted up a glorious shout,and instantly that hand was followed by the body it belonged to--InjunJoe's! Tom was paralyzed; he could not move. He was vastly gratifiedthe next moment, to see the "Spaniard" take to his heels and gethimself out of sight. Tom wondered that Joe had not recognized hisvoice and come over and killed him for testifying in court. But theechoes must have disguised the voice. Without doubt, that was it, hereasoned. Tom's fright weakened every muscle in his body. He said tohimself that if he had strength enough to get back to the spring hewould stay there, and nothing should tempt him to run the risk ofmeeting Injun Joe again. He was careful to keep from Becky what it washe had seen. He told her he had only shouted "for luck."
But hunger and wretchedness rise superior to fears in the long run.Another tedious wait at the spring and another long sleep broughtchanges. The children awoke tortured with a raging hunger. Tom believedthat it must be Wednesday or Thursday or even Friday or Saturday, now,and that the search had been given over. He proposed to explore anotherpassage. He felt willing to risk Injun Joe and all other terrors. ButBecky was very weak. She had sunk into a dreary apathy and would not beroused. She said she would wait, now, where she was, and die--it wouldnot be long. She told Tom to go with the kite-line and explore if hechose; but she implored him to come back every little while and speakto her; and she made him promise that when the awful time came, hewould stay by her and hold her hand until all was over.
Tom kissed her, with a choking sensation in his throat, and made ashow of being confident of finding the searchers or an escape from thecave; then he took the kite-line in his hand and went groping down oneof the passages on his hands and knees, distressed with hunger and sickwith bodings of coming doom.