The Givreuse Enigma

by J. -H. Rosny aîné

  When the Sun was ready to disappear into the occidental waters, the expedition stopped in a broad defile, a granite causeway dividing two marshes. The Amdavas and the Sumatrans cleared the ground along a length of 200 meters, felling some clusters of small trees, and a few bushes and tall ferns. The relatively low-lying plants and the taller trees were left. Then they made up the camp fires.

  The rapid dusk was beginning when Rak and the dog Vos appeared. “They’re 500 paces away, over there, in the reeds, and a little further on, in the banyans, and they’re more numerous than before.”

  “Might they risk an attack?” said Karel.

  “I doubt it,” murmured Louise de Gavres. “The sky’s clear; no storm is near. Only a cyclone and a storm like the one that permitted the abduction could tempt them. Nevertheless, they aren’t concentrating their forces without reason. Do you think there are more than 100 of them, Rak?”

  Rak raised his arms to signal his ignorance. “How can one count them, Mistress? The banyans and the reeds could hide more than 1000.”

  The fires crackled; high flames, springing out of the smoke, became brighter as the darkness increased. When night had fallen—a night white with stars—a coppery gleam swept the causeway for some distance

  “At 100 meters one could hit a target as easily as in broad daylight,” Dirk remarked, raising his eyes toward the scintillating Southern Cross.

  Myriads of giant frogs were croaking madly; one might have thought that a herd of fabulous beasts, aquatic buffaloes, was hidden among the marsh plants. Clouds of insects precipitated themselves toward the flames—a snow of moths, a rain of mosquitoes and vertiginous beetles falling into the red braziers—while dozens of bats somersaulted through the air in pursuit of hypnotized prey.

  Inconceivable nature! thought Frédéric. “So much foresight, such subtle instincts, prodigious organisms, from the tiniest flies to tigers and cachalots…all of it sacrificed to absurd and baroque hazards!

  Meanwhile, the Grafina, Dirk, Karel and the Amdava chief made their rounds in order to render the camp safe from surprises.

  “The dogs are restless,” Louise remarked.

  “Yes…increasingly so,” the planter agreed.

  Rak stuck his ear to the ground, while the dog Vos scratched the earth. The Jufvrouw did not hesitate to imitate the tracker. She heard muffled sounds in the ground: hammering sounds or imprecise noises suggestive of digging.

  “Something’s happening down there.”

  Already, Dirk and Karel were taking account of it for themselves. The dog Vos scratched the soil more excitedly and sniffed urgently.

  “Isn’t it, Rak?” asked Louise.

  “Yes, Mistress. They’re underground.”

  “Do you think they’re Carabao-Men?”

  “I think so—and Vos is sure of it.”

  Louise knew the dog too well not to be convinced. She put a hand on Vos’s head, saying: “Enemies, Vos?”

  The dog growled dully, raising his eyes—which shone with intelligence—toward Louise.

  “No doubt,” said Dirk, then. “The Carabao-Men are here. Either they’re planning to attack us unexpectedly, or they’re going to try to make us fall into their caverns—for I think that there are caverns beneath our feet.”

  “We need to know whether the caverns extend across the entire causeway,” Louise continued.

  “If that’s not the case, I imagine that only a part of the ground will collapse.”

  “There’s hard stone almost everywhere,” Karel remarked.

  “Granite. So I presume they’re attempting to knock down the walls or columns supporting it. Let’s try to figure out exactly where they’re working…and command the men to disperse.”

  When the orders had been given, Rak, the Grafina, the Dutchmen and several Amdavas listened attentively to the subterranean noises. The noises were not always produced in the same places. There were neutral zones, and others where the activity was concentrated. By cross-checking, they were able to identify those zones fairly clearly.

  “Nothing’s certain, though,” Dirk remarked. “The collapses won’t necessarily be limited to the places where they’re working.”

  The most suspect zones were evacuated; supplementary fires were lit at various distances, to avoid the darkness advantageous to the Carabao-Men—although the glare of the stars provided an ashen light in which men accustomed to the savage life could see to fight and to shoot—albeit less precisely than by firelight. The Moon would not rise for another three hours.

  The wait, with its procession of frightful images, anguish and impatience, seemed long—but was less fatiguing for men of adventure and nature than for nervous city-dwellers. Intermittently, the work ceased. The zones were now very localized. Even so, noises were heard elsewhere, though never for a long time, raising the suspicion of feints intended to disorientate the listeners.

  Everything was ready for a complete evacuation, which had been delayed until now for fear of traps, which the enemies might have had time to prepare under cover of darkness. Beyond 300 meters, it was impossible to discern anything, except scattered vegetation and occasional large blocks of stone.

  “The Earth trembled,” Rak declared.

  He pointed westwards. Amdavas, lying on the ground, confirmed the indication. The Grafina, Dirk and Karel decided to evacuate that zone, and then to mount a general retreat eastwards. They were then about 75 meters from a thick curtain of plants, which overlapped the two sides of the causeway and might hide 100 men. It would have been dangerous to retreat any further.

  In that part of the causeway the subterranean noises were less distinct, as the whites and the indigenes both observed.

  Abruptly, the Earth shook. Several detonations were heard, and the fires died down. Four Sumatrans and two Amdavas disappeared, uttering loud cries.

  In the place where the encampment had formerly been located, there was no more than a vast hole, a chaos of fallen rocks from which long flames and thick smoke were escaping.

  “Let’s try to save the poor devils!” said the Grafina.

  Two of the buried Sumatrans were in her service, the other two had come with Dirk. Shouts—ominous plaints—rose up from the depths. Louise did not hesitate to precipitate herself into the debris, quickly followed by Dirk, Frédéric and several Amdavas.

  “No one else must come down!” ordered Louise.

  “Karel, Hendrik, go back up!” said the giant imperiously. “The camp can’t be left without commanders!”

  Louise and Frédéric were the first to pull out a wounded man. Another was moaning lamentably, pinned beneath a block of stone that four ordinary men could only have lifted with great difficulty. Dirk threw it back without apparent effort. The other victims could not be found for some time. In the end, the Amdavas discovered two mangled bodies, with their skulls split and their entrails hanging out.

  “A bad night!” said the giant, in a melancholy tone, when he got back to the causeway with the Grafina. “If the retreat had been ordered ten minutes later, the whole expedition would have been annihilated. And now…”

  Amdavas and Sumatrans formed a confused mass beneath the constellations. Here and there, a jet of flame lit their faces more brightly, and then everything fell back into the gloom. There was no point thinking about building fires; all their remaining combustible material was buried.

  The sinister darkness extended over the marshes. The clamor of giant frogs, the furtive apparitions of reptiles in the starlight and the flight of enormous bats were suggestive of a subterranean world, stifling and phantasmagoric. Invisible enemies, who had just shown themselves to be even more redoubtable than anyone imagined, were watching the expedition. Death floated in the atmosphere.

  It’s terrible, Frédéric thought, that all these people are risking their lives for us!

  His gaze settled on the silhouette of Louise de Gavres. At intervals, he glimpsed her white face, imprecise but nonetheless full of charm; the thought of what this marvelous
creature was doing for him and for Corisande made his heart swell with gratitude and affection.

  Meanwhile, the leaders disposed the men, in anticipation of an abrupt attack. To the west, and to the east, lines of Amdavas who would stand up immediately in response to a signal, covered by their shields; in the center, the Sumatrans. It did not matter much what positions the Grafina, Dirk and Karel took up; in a flash, they would be ready for battle.

  If we aren’t attacked before moonrise, all will be well,” said Karel.

  “It’s especially necessary to beware of the debris,” the Grafina remarked.

  A space of 50 meters separated the collapse from the curtain of aquatic vegetation but it was evident that the Carabao-Men might surge forth from underground, so the Amdavas advance-guard was doubled on that side.

  Pensively, Louise glimpsed a subterranean existence, doubtless very ancient. From now on, nothing was more probable than a ramification of the caverns, which would become increasingly numerous once they approached the base. The shelters identified by Frédéric, those habitations in the bosom of the rocks, appeared revelatory. Everything became more redoubtable; it would be necessary to advance one step at a time—but as always, the young woman wondered whether it might even be possible to derive some advantage from the situation.

  When the half-full Moon appeared in the west, no attack had occurred.

  “I presume,” said the planter, “that they were counting on inflicting heavier losses upon us, throwing everything into disorder and sowing panic among the survivors.”

  “All in all, their coup has failed,” said Karel. “We were lucky.”

  “Yes—but luck wouldn’t have been enough. We were able to retreat from the most dangerous zone.”

  “They’ll try again, though.”

  “It’s not impossible, Karel—although it’s not very probable that a similar opportunity will present itself. I presume that we’re camping on terrain that has been mined for a long time…and which would have ended up collapsing of its own accord. That must be quite rare; it would require singularly bad luck for us to camp in similar conditions for a second time.”

  “That’s true!” the Grafina interjected. “I anticipate further pitfalls, though, favored by their subterranean life. We probably have nothing to fear tonight.”

  “I think so too,” replied the giant, placidly lighting his pipe. “So it’s necessary that the men sleep. They’ll need all their strength. Give the order to the Amdavas, Karel, and you and I, Jufvrouw, will take care of the Sumatrans.”

  The Moon, initially immense, red and dull, shrank and became paler as it climbed into the sky. Gradually, a brighter light spread over the marshes. The Amdavas and the Sumatrans began to feel safer, although a superstitious anxiety persisted in their primitive souls. That anxiety was especially keen in the Amdavas, who were always ready to risk their lives in combat but fearful in confrontation with mysterious dangers, which they attributed to superhuman interventions. It was important to reassure them. When the sentries had been disposed and the majority of men had lain down, Karel summoned the chief of the Amdavas and the warrior who attended to the wounded.

  The chief was a sturdy 40 year-old of medium height, with a triangular face, prominent cheekbones and hard yellow eyes. He listened impassively to the eulogy of the dead and said: “We are born for few seasons. Those who die young are less unhappy than those who die weighed down by days…and the best fate of all is that of those who die in battle.” Then, turning his eyes away and lowering his head, he said: “Our dead have not been in battle, and we came to do battle.”

  “Glorious chief of the forest,” said Karel, gravely, “on the warpath, it is necessary to expect all perils.”

  “All those that come from men, beasts, water, air and earth, yes,” replied the Amdava, “but not those that come from hidden things.”

  “No peril has come from hidden things,” the giant affirmed then. “The Carabao-Men live under the ground and in the earth. Many others live thus!”

  The chief bowed respectfully. He had seen the colossus lift up the stone that had resisted the efforts of four men, and he also knew that his rifle, like that of Louise’s, never missed its target. His heart was full of mystical admiration.

  “Lambda, son of Sorgoi, has only one thing to say,” the chief replied. “He will follow you until death.”

  The other Amdava, his face reticent and his eyes oblique, remained silent. The Grafina fixed her eyes of black flame upon him. “Our enemies have only one redoubtable secret,” she said, “and that is their poison. You know that we have a remedy stronger than their poison. What can they oppose to our rifles and your bows? If they had great sorcerers, would they still be armed with axes, clubs and assegais?”

  These words, the Grafina’s gaze, perhaps her beauty and the mystery of her presence impressed the Amdava. He lowered his head and replied: “The Amdavas will follow their chief!”

  The night passed without any alarm. When the Sun rose above the marshes, the men were rested and the scenes of the previous night were already becoming blurred in the insouciant brains of the Amdavas and the Sumatrans.

  The Grafina, Dirk and Rak examined the debris. Heaps of rocks lay in a large hole, without any obvious breach having been opened to the waters—which, nevertheless, were filtering in slowly and would end up attaining the level of the causeway. Already it would have been difficult to pass through.

  The opening of a subterranean passage was visible to the west. There could be no thought of exploring it; in addition to the invading water, the Carabao-Men might be lying in ambush therein—but the passage gave rise to a host of possibilities and sketchy projects in Louise de Gavres’ mind.

  When the expedition had finished the first meal of the day resolutions had been made. They would cross the gap with the aid of Amdavas canoes. The crossing was promptly executed, in spite of the marsh plants that formed obstacles in places similar to those that travelers have observed in the Sargasso Sea.

  There was no trace of the enemy.

  “How did they get underground?” asked Karel. “Perhaps there’s an opening nearby.”

  “We’ve thought of that,” said Louise. “Rak, Karel and the other scouts will receive orders.”

  No fissure and no evidence of any cavern were discovered on the causeway and the plain that followed. Nor was there the slightest indication of the proximity of Marsh-dwellers. Vos and the other dogs remained calm.

  “I believe that they’re following us and preceding us, though,” said Louise, when the expedition called a halt at midday.

  The march had been difficult, over terrain that was alternately rocky and boggy, beneath a blazing Sun. The protective clouds had disappeared. From a harsh blue sky, the solar furnace poured torrents of heat.

  Sometimes, thickets of hectic and suspect vegetation barred the way; it was necessary to go around them—and the deadly legions of insects never ceased to assail the humans.

  They had reached a granite outcrop where overhanging rocks provided shade.

  “Do you think we’re close to the objective now?” the Grafina asked Frédéric.

  “A few more miles at most,” the young man replied. “Although I followed another, more direct route, I noticed these rocks on my arrival.” He pointed to the south-west. “The Carabao-Men’s caverns are in that direction. I think we could see them from the top of one of these rocks.” He pointed at the highest part of the outcrop, a steep red rock with black veins, which must have risen up to an elevation of 100 or 120 meters. “Anyway, I’d like to know,” he added.

  Dirk, for whom Hendrik had translated the conversation, murmured: “Let’s examine the terrain first.”

  Two clefts separated the tall rock from the others and permitted them to make a tour around it. The scouts having observed nothing suspect, Frédéric rapidly scaled the less awkward of the declivities. Apart from one section, where he had to raise himself up by his arms, the young man executed the ascent without any great
difficulty. During the climb, he noticed a rather large fissure, which he resolved to explore on the way back.

  When he stood on the slanting narrow platform that formed the summit, he distinctly recognized the rocky circle that sheltered the enemy tribe, three or four kilometers away.

  The air, which was very pure at that moment, permitted him to see everything precisely.

  Frédéric’s heart was beating violently. Was she still alive? Funereal thoughts and frightful visions crowded his mind tumultuously. If she was still alive, how could they reach her? And even if they reached her, would not the savages cut her throat at the final moment?

  In spite of his agitation, he carefully observed the details of the location. By the time he began the descent, he knew enough to guide the expedition.

  The fissure stopped him. It seemed to be deep; he could not resist the temptation to go into it, groping his way. After a few steps on rocky terrain he perceived a slope. Passing from gloom into obscurity, it soon became invisible. He advanced with extreme prudence, but was soon obliged to stop by the increasing darkness.

  Who knows? he said to himself, thinking about the previous night’s episode.

  The Grafina, Dirk and Karel were waiting for him down below, ready to climb the rock in their turn.

  “Their lair is close by,” said Frédéric. He gave a summary description of the access routes and told them about the fissure.

  Louise listened with keen interest. “We need to explore it!” she said.

  “Shouldn’t we fear a trap?” said Karel.

  “It’s possible—but if there are men in there, the dogs won’t fail to warn us in time…and it’s very difficult to take Rak by surprise. Monsieur de Rouveyres and I will go together, with Rak and a few natives.” As Dirk manifested a desire to go with them, she added: “The men must not be left without a leader.”

  Dirk acquiesced. In addition to Karel, Rak and Kalava, they chose six Amdavas from among the best trackers of humans and animals, and the dog Vos was joined by the little Bornean dog and three others with sharp noses.