The Road to Science Fiction

by James Gunn

  Today the kind of romantic conviction that made the lost-race stories possible is hard to find. Perhaps it goes into other kinds of works—heroic fantasies, perhaps, or UFO experiences, or books about ancient mysteries in the Erich von Däniken tradition.

  From She

  BY H. RIDER HAGGARD

  CHAPTER XXIV

  WALKING THE PLANK

  Next day the mutes woke us before the dawn. By the time that we had rubbed the sleep out of our eyes, and refreshed ourselves by washing at a spring which still welled up into the remains of a marble basin in the centre of the north quadrangle of the vast outer court, we found She standing near the litter ready to start, while old Billali and the two bearer-mutes were busy collecting the baggage. As usual, Ayesha was veiled like the marble Truth, and it struck me then that she might have taken the idea of covering up her beauty from that statue. I noticed, however, that she seemed very depressed, and had none of that proud and buoyant bearing which would have betrayed her among a thousand women of the same stature, even if they had been veiled like herself. She looked up as we came—for her head was bowed—and greeted us. Leo asked her how she had slept.

  “Ill, my Kallikrates,” she answered, “ill! This night strange and hideous dreams have come creeping through my brain, and I know not what they may portend. Almost do I feel as though some evil overshadowed me; and yet, how can evil touch me? I wonder,” she went on with a sudden outbreak of womanly tenderness, “I wonder, should aught happen to me, so that I slept awhile and left thee waking, if thou wouldst think gently of me? I wonder, my Kallikrates, if thou wouldst tarry till I came again, as for so many centuries I have tarried for thy coming?”

  Then, without waiting for an answer, she went on: “Let us be setting forth, for we have far to go, and before another day is born in yonder blue we should stand in the place of Life.”

  In five minutes we were once more on our way through the ruined city, which loomed on either side through the grey dawning in a fashion at once grand and oppressive. Just as the first ray of the rising sun shot like a golden arrow athwart this storied desolation we gained the further gateway of the outer wall. Here, having given one more glance at the hoar and pillared majesty through which we had journeyed, and—with the exception of Job, for whom ruins had no charms—breathed a sigh of regret that we lacked time to explore it, we passed through the encircling moat, and on to the plain beyond.

  As the sun rose so did Ayesha’s spirits, till at length they had regained their normal level, and she laughingly attributed her sadness to the associations of the spot where she had slept.

  “These barbarians swear that Kôr is haunted,” she said, “and of a truth I believe their saying, for never did I know so ill a night save once. I remember it now. It was on that very spot, when thou didst lie dead at my feet, Kallikrates. Never will I visit it again; it is a place of evil omen.”

  After a very brief halt for breakfast we pressed on with such good will that by two o’clock in the day we were at the foot of the vast wall of rock forming the lip of the volcano, which at this point towered up precipitously above us for fifteen hundred or two thousand feet. Here we halted, certainly not to my astonishment, for I did not see how it was possible that we should advance any farther.

  “Now,” said Ayesha, as she descended from her litter “our labours but commence, for here we part with these men, and henceforward must we bear ourselves.” Then she added, addressing Billali, “Do thou and these slaves remain here, and abide our return. By to-morrow at the midday we shall be with thee—if not, wait.”

  Billali bowed humbly, and said that her august bidding should be obeyed if they stopped there till they grew old.

  “And this man, O Holly,” said She, pointing to Job; “it is best that he should tarry also, for his heart be not high and his courage great, perchance some evil might overtake him. Also, the secrets of the place whither we go are not fit for common eyes.”

  I translated this to Job, who instantly and earnestly entreated me, almost with tears, not to leave him behind. He said he was sure that he could see nothing worse than he had already seen, and that he was terrified to death at the idea of being left alone with those “dumb folk,” who, he thought, would probably take the opportunity to “hot-pot” him.

  I translated what he said to Ayesha, who shrugged her shoulders, and answered, “Well, let him come, it is naught to me; on his own head be it. He will serve to bear the lamp and this,” and she pointed to a narrow board, some sixteen feet in length, which had been bound above the long bearing-pole of her hammock, I had thought to give the curtains a wider spread, but, as it now appeared, for some unknown purpose connected with our extraordinary undertaking.

  Accordingly the plank, which, though tough, was very light, was given to Job to carry, and also one of the lamps. I slung the other on to my back, together with a spare jar of oil, while Leo loaded himself with the provisions and some water in a kid’s skin. When this was done She bade Billali and the six bearer-mutes to retreat behind a grove of flowering magnolias about a hundred yards away, and there to remain under pain of death till we had vanished. They bowed humbly, and went. As he departed, old Billali gave me a friendly shake of the hand, and whispered that he had rather that it were I than he who was going on this wonderful expedition with “She-who must-be-obeyed” a view with which I felt inclined to agree. In another minute they were gone; then, having briefly asked us if we were ready, Ayesha turned and gazed at the towering cliff.

  “Great heavens, Leo,” I said, “surely we are not going to climb that precipice!”

  Leo, who was in a state of half-fascinated, half-expectant mystification, shrugged his shoulders, and at that moment Ayesha with a sudden spring began to scale the cliff, whither of course we must follow her. It was almost marvellous to see the ease and grace with which she sprang from rock to rock, and swung herself along the ledges. The ascent, however, was not so difficult as it seemed, although we passed one or two nasty places where it was unpleasant to look back; for here the rock still sloped, and was not absolutely precipitous, as it became above.

  In this way, with no great toil—for the only troublesome thing to manage was Job’s board—we mounted to the height of some fifty feet beyond our last standing-place, and in so doing drew sixty or seventy paces to the left of our starting-point, for we ascended as crabs walk, sideways. Presently we reached a ledge, narrow enough at first, but which widened as we followed it, and sloped inwards, moreover, like the petal of a flower, so that we sank gradually into a kind of rut or fold of rock that grew deeper and deeper, till at last it resembled a Devonshire lane in stone, and hid us perfectly from the gaze of persons on the slope below, had anybody been there to gaze. This lane, which appeared to be a natural formation, continued for some thirty or forty yards, then suddenly ended in a cave, also natural, running at right angles to it. That it was not hollowed by the labour of man I am sure, because of its irregular, contorted shape and course, which gave it the appearance of having been blasted in the thickness of the mountain by some frightful eruption of gas following the line of the least resistance. All the caverns hollowed by the ancients of Kôr, on the other hand, were cut out with a symmetrical and perfect regularity.

  At the mouth of this cave Ayesha halted, and bade us light the two lamps, which I did, giving one to her and keeping the other myself. Then, taking the lead, she advanced down the cavern, picking her way with great care, as indeed it was necessary to do, for the floor was most irregular—strewn with boulders like the bed of a stream, and in some places pitted with deep holes, in which it would have been easy to break a limb.

  This cavern we pursued for twenty minutes or more. It was about a quarter of a mile long, so far as I could form a judgment, which, owing to its numerous twists and turns, was not an easy task.

  At last, however, we halted at its farther end, and whilst I was still trying to accustom my eyes to the twilight without a great gust of air came tearing down the cave, and extingu
ished both the lamps.

  Ayesha called to us, and we crept up to her, for she was a little in front, to be rewarded with a view that was positively appalling in its gloom and grandeur. Before us was a mighty chasm in the black rock, jagged, torn, and splintered through it in a far past age by some awful convulsion of Nature, as though it had been cleft by stroke upon stroke of the lightning. This chasm, which was bounded by precipices, although at the moment we could not see that on the farther side, may have measured any width across, but from its darkness I do not think it can have been very broad. It was impossible to make out much of its outline, or how far it ran, for the simple reason that the point where we were standing was so far from the upper surface of the cliff, at least fifteen hundred or two thousand feet, that only a very dim light struggled down to us from above. The mouth of the cavern that we had been following gave on to a most curious and tremendous spur of rock, which jutted out through mid air into the gulf before us for a distance of some fifty yards, coming to a sharp point at its termination, and in shape resembling nothing that I can think of so much as the spur upon the leg of a cock. This huge spur was attached only to the parent precipice at its base, which was, of course, enormous, just as the cock’s spur is attached to its leg. Otherwise it was utterly unsupported.

  “Here must we pass,” said Ayesha. “Be careful lest giddiness overcome you, or the wind sweep you into the gulf beneath, for of a truth it has no bottom”; and, without giving us further time to grow frightened, she began to walk along the spur, leaving us to follow her as best we might. I was next to her, then came Job, painfully dragging his plank, while Leo brought up the rear. It was a wonderful sight to see this intrepid woman gliding fearlessly along that dreadful place. For my part, when I had gone but a very few yards, what between the pressure of the air and the awful sense of the consequences that a slip would entail, I found it necessary to drop on to my hands and knees and crawl, and so did the others.

  But Ayesha never condescended to this humble expedient. On she went, leaning her body against the gusts of wind, not seeming to lose either her head or her balance.

  In a few minutes we had crossed some twenty paces of this awful bridge, which grew narrower at every step, when of a sudden a great gust tore along the gorge. I saw Ayesha lean herself against it, but the strong draught forced itself beneath her dark cloak, wrenching it from her and away it went down the wind flapping like a wounded bird. It was dreadful to see it go, till it was lost in the blackness.

  I clung to the saddle of rock, and looked about me, while, like a living thing, the great spur vibrated with a humming sound beneath us. The sight was truly awesome. There we were poised in the gloom between earth and heaven. Beneath us stretched hundreds upon hundreds of feet of emptiness that gradually grew darker, till at last it was absolutely black; and at what depth it ended is more than I can guess. Above were measureless spaces of giddy air, and far, far away a line of blue sky. And down this vast gulf in which we were pinnacled the great draught dashed and roared, driving clouds and misty wreaths of vapour before it, till we were nearly blinded, and utterly confused.

  Indeed the position was so tremendous and so absolutely unearthly, that I believe it actually lulled our sense of terror; but to this hour I often see it in my dreams, and at its mere phantasy wake up dripping with cold sweat.

  “On! on!” cried the white form before us, for now that her cloak had gone She was robed in white, and looked more like a spirit riding down the gale than a woman; “On, or ye will fall and be dashed to pieces. Fix your eyes upon the ground, and cling closely to the rock.”

  We obeyed her, and crept painfully along the quivering path, against which the wind shrieked and wailed as it shook it, causing it to murmur like some gigantic tuning-fork. On we went, I do not know for how long, only gazing round now and again when it was absolutely necessary, until at last we saw that we had reached the very tip of the spur, a slab of rock, but little larger than an ordinary table, that throbbed and jumped like any over-engined steamer. There we lay, clinging to the stone, and stared round us, while, absolutely heedless of the hideous depth that yawned beneath, Ayesha stood leaning out against the wind, down which her long hair streamed, and pointed before her. Then we saw why the narrow plank had been provided, which Job and I had borne so painfully between us. In front yawned an empty space, on the other side of which was something, as yet we could not see what, for here either—owing to the shadow of the opposite cliff, or from some other cause—the gloom was that of a cloudy night.

  “We must wait awhile,” called Ayesha; “soon there will be light.”

  At the moment I could not imagine what she meant. How could more light than there was ever come to this dreadful spot? While I was still wondering, suddenly, like a great sword of flame, a beam from the setting sun pierced the Stygian gloom, and smote upon the point of rock whereon we lay, illuminating Ayesha’s lovely form with an unearthly splendour. I only wish I could describe the wild and marvellous beauty of that sword of fire, laid across the darkness and rushing mist-wreaths of the gulf. How it came there I do not to this moment know, but I presume that there was some cleft or hole in the opposing cliff, through which light flowed when the setting orb was in a direct line with it. All I can say is, the effect was the most wonderful that I ever saw. Right through the heart of the darkness that flaming sword was stabbed, and where it lay the light was surpassingly vivid, so vivid that even at a distance we could see the grain of the rock, while outside of it—yes, within a few inches of its keen edge—was naught but clustering shadows.

  And now, by this vast sunbeam, for which She had been waiting, and timed our arrival to meet, knowing that at this season for thousands of years it had always struck thus at eve, we saw what was before us. Within eleven or twelve yards of the very tip of the tongue-like rock whereon we stood there arose, presumably from the far bottom of the gulf, a sugarloaf-shaped cone, of which the summit was exactly opposite to us. But had there been a summit only it would not have helped us much, for the nearest point of its circumference was some forty feet from where we were. On the lip of this summit, however, which was circular and hollow, rested a tremendous flat boulder, something like a glacier stone—perhaps it was one, for all I know to the contrary—and the end of the boulder approached to within twelve feet of us. This huge mass was nothing more nor less than a gigantic rocking-stone, accurately balanced upon the edge of the cone or miniature crater, like a half-crown set on the rim of a wine-glass; for, in the fierce light that played upon it and us, we could see it oscillating in the gusts of wind.

  “Quick!” said Ayesha; “the plank—we must cross while the light endures; presently it will be gone.”

  “Oh, Lord, sir! surely she don’t mean us to walk across this here place on that there thing,” groaned Job, as in obedience to my directions he thrust the long board towards me.

  “That’s it, Job,” I holloaed in ghastly merriment, though the idea of walking the plank was no pleasanter to me than to him.

  I passed the board to Ayesha, who ran it deftly across the yards of the very tip of the tongue-like rock whereon we stood there arose, presumably from the far bottom of the gulf so that one end of it rested on the rocking-stone, the other remaining upon the extremity of the trembling spur. Then, placing her foot upon it to prevent it from being blown away, she turned to me.

  “Since last I was here, O Holly,” she called, “the support of the moving stone hath lessened somewhat, so that I am not sure whether it will bear our weight. Therefore I must cross the first, because no hurt will overtake me,” and, without further ado, she trod lightly but firmly across the frail bridge, and in another second had gained the heaving stone.

  “It is safe,” she called. “See, hold thou the plank! I will stand on the farther side of the rock, so that it may not over balance with your greater weights. Now come, O Holly, for presently the light will fail us.”

  I struggled to my knees, and if ever I felt terrified in my life it was then; i
ndeed, I am not ashamed to say that I hesitated and hung back.

  “Surely thou art not afraid,” cried this strange creature, in a lull of the gale, from where she stood poised like a bird on the highest point of the rocking-stone. “Make way, then, for Kallikrates.”

  This decided me; it is better to fall down a precipice and die than be laughed at by such a woman! so I clenched my teeth, and in another instant I was on that narrow, bending plank, with bottomless space beneath and around me. I have always hated a great height, but never before did I appreciate the full horrors of which such a position is capable. Oh, the sickening sensation of that yielding board resting on the two moving supports. I grew dizzy, and thought that I must fall; my spine crept; it seemed to me that I was falling, and my delight at finding myself stretched upon the stone, which rose and fell beneath me like a boat in a swell, cannot be expressed in words. All I know is that briefly, but earnestly enough, I thanked Providence for preserving me thus far.

  Then came Leo’s turn, and, though he looked rather white, he ran across like a rope-dancer. Ayesha stretched out her hand to clasp his own, and I heard her say, “Bravely done, my love—bravely done! The old Greek spirit lives in thee yet!”

  And now only poor Job remained on the farther side of the gulf. He crept up to the plank, and yelled out, “I can’t do it, sir. I shall fall into that beastly place.”

  “You must,” I remember answering with inappropriate facetiousness—”you must, Job, it’s as easy as catching flies.” I suppose that I must have said this to satisfy my conscience, because, although the expression conveys a wonderful idea of facility, as a matter of fact I know no more difficult operation in the whole world than catching flies—that is, in warm weather, unless, indeed, it is catching mosquitoes.

  “I can’t, sir—I can’t indeed.”