Hidden World (In Caverns Below) Stanton A. Coblentz 1935 Contents I. Cave-In II. The Battle III. The Chalk-Faces IV. His Abysmal Excellency, Thuno Flatum V. The People of the Caverns VI. The Way of Wu VII. The Oath of Fidelity VIII. Loa IX. Flight X. Victory Parade XI. The Phonoscope XII. Company Hero XIII. The Examination XIV. The Ventilation Throw-Down XV. To Dream upon the 1 krone ... XVI. The Ultimatum XVII. Luma the Illustrious XVIII. The Last Refuge XIX. Ra the Righteous XX. Toppling Thrones I. Cave-In It is now six years since Clay and I were given up by the world as lost. One fact in the case, and one only, may be remembered by the public. In the autumn of 1951, newspapers throughout the country reported that Philip Clay and Frank Comstock, mining engineers, had disappeared in the depths of a silver mine in Nevada. I shall not linger over the preliminaries, ex?cept to state that Philip Clay and I had been partners ever since our graduation from Western Institute of Mining in 1939. We had spent all our time in experiments and enterprises in the back regions of Montana, Idaho, and other states of the mountain belt. In September, 1951, we were called to pass judgment on the old Carlson Flat Silver Mine, which an Eastern syndicate was just reopening. The mine was located in a par?ticularly inaccessible section of central Nevada, Carlson Flat?as desolate a spot as you could imagine. We were at the edge of a narrow bar?ren plateau, just beneath a stony ridge that beetled a thousand feet above. No matter; we spent most of the time in that long-abandoned mine, whose shafts were not only unusually dank and narrow, but exceptionally deep. It was on the third day that we decided to in?spect the farthest and deepest section of the dig?gings. Accompanied by two or three workmen, and an official of the company, we made our way tortuously through galleries that seemed miles long, and accomplished the dim descent hun?dreds of feet beneath the desert floor. Every now and then, as we groped and fumbled silently downward, I seemed to feel a sudden faint trem?bling of the earth. ?Feel that?? I demanded of Clay, after one tremor. But he merely snapped, ?Feel what?? ?Seemed like an earthquake to me!? I mut?tered. ?Earthquake? How the devil could it be? We?re out of the earthquake belt, aren?t we?? I mumbled in the affirmative, but was not re?assured. A few minutes later, we had reached the mine?s lowest limits. I pushed on with Clay, ahead of our companions, and was just turning my flashlight on an ore-producing ledge at the bottom of the gallery when ... it happened. Like many of life?s crises, it was all over in a minute. The earth gave a convulsive lurch, like a ship?s deck during a storm at sea. I heard Clay?s sharp exclamation, and the startled shout of our companions, down the tunnel. I heard the crunching, grinding, and groaning of the earth, and a low rumbling from far subterranean depths; then I was pitched headlong to the floor as the ground heaved beneath us. I could see a gleam of panic in Clay?s eyes as he tried to clutch a projecting spike of rock; then, as the commo?tion momentarily subsided, I almost regained my feet?only to be hurled down again. As I tried to get up, my ears rang with the thunder of falling rock. The roof of the gallery had collapsed; by the wavering rays of a flash?light, we saw ourselves entombed. But even as this realization swept across our minds, there was a fresh roaring in our ears. A huge rock crashed down from the roof, and then, at our feet, the earth groaned and opened, and a broad black fissure spread out beneath us. Desperately, like mountain climbers on a crumbling precipice, we tried to hold our bal?ance on the narrow floor of our prison. We could see the fissure widening, spreading out; then the light in Clay?s flashlight flickered and died.... In the darkness, clutching instinctively at the overhanging rocks, we felt ourselves slipping. I heard Clay?s cry; I heard the uproar of sliding earth and rock; I felt my arms and shoulders bruised. There was a sense of suffocation, of being buried beneath tons of dead matter; then ... quietness. * * * I have always marveled that Clay and I lived through the cataclysm. Probably we owe our sur?vival to the fact that the fissure, far from being perpendicular, sloped at an angle of thirty or forty degrees, so that, while rolling over and over in our descent, we were spared a direct drop. It may have been minutes, or it may have been hours later; but when I came to myself, it was with a dull aching in the head, and a sensation of soreness in every limb and muscle. ?Where are we?? I gasped. ?Where are we? I wish I knew,? came in mum?bled accents from an unseen figure. ?Much hurt, Phil?? I jerked out, striving to locate Clay amid the blackness as I started to ex?tricate myself from the stones and dust. ?No, not hurt much!? came Clay?s drawled reply. ?A few little cuts and bruises, more or less, and one black eye. But I couldn?t use the eye down here, anyway! How about you, Frank?? ?I?m all right,? I said, as cheerfully as I could, considering that I felt as if I had been through a threshing machine. ?We?ll sure be able to collect big damages! Don?t know where we are, Frank, but I wouldn?t mind being anywhere else. Where are you?? It took us several minutes to find each other. At length, guided by the sound of our voices, we brushed shoulders in the darkness. Thereafter, we clasped hands to keep together. After a few minutes, we passed the debris-lit?tered area, and found a smooth stone floor slant?ing beneath our feet. And, a yard or two to each side of us, our groping fingers discovered a pol?ished stone wall. Clay whistled. ?Who?d have thought the mine reached this far down?? ?Mine?? I returned derisively. ?When did you ever see a mine with polished walls?? ?Well, what is it if not a mine? Just tell me that!? Not being able to answer, I remained silent, as we continued on down those uncanny cor?ridors. For another ten or fifteen minutes we plodded on without a word. The walls were still as pol?ished and regular as ever, the blackness as ab?solute and unbroken; now we felt an occasional jarring of the earth at uneven intervals. It grew a little more pronounced, but was less disturbing as we became used to it. Then, unexpectedly, the gallery curved, turn?ing almost at right angles. And as we felt our Way around the bend, the tunnel curved again even more sharply; then curved once more; while, adding to our bewilderment, we dis? covered several side-galleries branching off in various directions. At the same time, the thuddings of the earth grew more pronounced, accompanied by rum?blings and reverberations of terrifying force and insistency. Crash after crash burst upon us, as if from some remote storm center. What could it be? Some volcanic disturbance in the depths of the earth? So we were inclined to believe as, sweating with fear, we halted for a consultation. In another moment, might we not feel the reek of sulphur in our nostrils? Groping around another turn in the gallery, we were startled to see an indistinct patch of light far ahead. Vaguely rectangular in shape, and of an unearthly greenish hue, it wavered and flickered strangely, at times almost disappearing, at times flaring to a hectic, momentary brilliance, shot through with flashes of red, orange, and violet. Simultaneously, the far-off thunders grew more deep-throated. ?Lord,? muttered Clay, ?you could almost be?lieve the old yarns about Old Nick and his court of devils!? ?Court of devils?? I tossed back. ?The only devils are in your imagination, Phil! It?s clear enough what?s wrong. The earth is going through a little fit of indigestion. Most likely it?ll clear up any moment.? These words were barely out of my mouth when the earth gave a lurch that knocked us both off our feet. And for an instant the light from down the gallery became a sunlike glare, by which I caught a glimpse of Clay?s harried face, one eye half closed and a long gash across his forehead. Probably I did not present a more inviting sight, for, as we both picked ourselves up, he exclaimed, ?Say, old fellow, I ought to have your picture now!? I didn?t bother to reply, but started away again along the gallery, whose walls were now and then dimly visible by the flickering light ahead. To our astonishment, we saw that the ceil?ing formed a perfect triangle, an inverted V like the roof of a house. Here was the handiwork of man?yet what man before us had penetrated these labyrinths? But it was useless to speculate. We had to go forward and find out. As we approached the light, we were relieved to find that the earth trembled less violently and less often, and that the illumi?nation down the passageway grew more steady and distinct. ?See, Phil, I told you the earthquakes would be over soon!? I told my companion. But Clay didn?t reply; he merely quickened his footsteps. At last we were drawing near the mysterious light. It had now ceased to flicker, and shone with a steady greenish-yellow glare, so bright as to fill the gallery with a weird radiance, wherein we could clearly distinguish each other?s features. The source of the light, however, remained an enigma. In a few minutes we had reached the corridor?s end, and, turning sharply, found ourselves in a wider passageway penetrated by scores of cross-galleries and terminating, about a hundred yards beyond, in a perfect blaze of greenish light. ?Lord in heaven!? exclaimed Clay, as we reached the new thoroughfare. ?Are we dream?ing? Or am I simply crazy?? ?Guess we?re both crazy!? I muttere...
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