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d ever been in more deadly danger。
At the entrance to the gorge the guards ceased and I went on alone。 Here there was no moonlight； and I had to feel my way by the sides。 I moved very slowly； wondering how soon I should find the end my folly demanded。 The heat of the ride had gone； and I remember feeling my shirt hang clammily on my shoulders。
Suddenly a hand was laid on my breast； and a voice demanded； 'The word？'
'Immanuel；' I said hoarsely。
Then unseen hands took both my arms； and I was led farther into the darkness。 My hopes revived for a second。 The
password had proved true； and at any rate I should enter the cave。
In the darkness I could see nothing； but I judged that we stopped before the stone slab which； as I remembered； filled the extreme end of the gorge。 My guide did something with the right…hand wall； and I felt myself being drawn into a kind of passage。 It was so narrow that two could not go abreast； and so low that the creepers above scraped my hair。 Something clicked behind me like the turnstile at the gate of a show。
Then we began to ascend steps； still in utter darkness； and a great booming fell on my ear。 It was the falling river which had scared me on my former visit； and I marvelled that I had not heard it sooner。 Presently we came out into a gleam of moonlight； and I saw that we were inside the gorge and far above the slab。 We followed a narrow shelf on its left side （or 'true right'； as mountaineers would call it） until we could go no farther。 Then we did a terrible thing。 Across the gorge； which here was at its narrowest； stretched a slab of stone。 Far； far below I caught the moonlight on a mass of hurrying waters。 This was our bridge； and though I have a good head for crags； I confess I grew dizzy as we turned to cross it。 Perhaps it was broader than it looked； at any rate my guides seemed to have no fear； and strode across it as if it was a highway； while I followed in a sweat of fright。 Once on the other side； I was handed over to a second pair of guides； who led me down a high passage running into the heart of the mountain。
The boom of the river sank and rose as the passage twined。 Soon I saw a gleam of light ahead which was not the moon。 It grew larger； until suddenly the roof rose and I found myself in a gigantic chamber。 So high it was that I could not make out anything of the roof； though the place was brightly lit with torches stuck round the wall； and a great fire which burned at the farther end。 But the wonder was on the left side； where the floor ceased in a chasm。 The left wall was one sheet of water； where the river fell from the heights into the infinite depth； below。 The torches and the fire made the sheer stream glow and sparkle like the battlements of the Heavenly City。 I have never seen any sight so beautiful or so strange； and for a second my breath stopped in admiration。
There were two hundred men or more in the chamber； but so huge was the place that they seemed only a little company。 They sat on the ground in a circle； with their eyes fixed on the fire and on a figure which stood before it。 The glow revealed the old man I had seen on that morning a month before moving towards the cave。 He stood as if in a trance； straight as a tree； with his arms crossed on his breast。 A robe of some shining white stuff fell from his shoulders； and was clasped round his middle by a broad circle of gold。 His head was shaven； and on his forehead was bound a disc of carved gold。 I saw from his gaze that his old eyes were blind。
'Who comes？'he asked as I entered。
'A messenger from the Inkulu；' I spoke up boldly。 'He follows soon with the white man； Henriques。'
Then I sat down in the back row of the circle to await events。 I noticed that my neighbour was the fellow 'Mwanga whom I had kicked out of the store。 Happily I was so dusty that he could scarcely recognize me； but I kept my face turned away from him。 What with the light and the warmth； the drone of the water； the silence of the folk； and my mental and physical stress； I grew drowsy and all but slept。
CHAPTER XI THE CAVE OF THE ROOIRAND
I was roused by a sudden movement。 The whole assembly stood up； and each man clapped his right hand to his brow and then raised it high。 A low murmur of 'Inkulu' rose above the din of the water。 Laputa strode down the hall； with Henriques limping behind him。 They certainly did not suspect my presence in the cave； nor did Laputa show any ruffling of his calm。 Only Henriques looked weary and cross。 I guessed he had had to ride my pony。
The old man whom I took to be the priest advanced towards Laputa with his hands raised over his head。 A pace before they met he halted； and Laputa went on his knees before him。 He placed his hands on his head； and spoke some words which I could not understand。 It reminded me； so queer are the tricks of memory； of an old Sabbath…school book I used to have which had a picture of Samuel ordaining Saul as king of Israel。 I think I had forgotten my own peril and was enthralled by the majesty of the place … the wavering torches； the dropping wall of green water； above all； the figures of Laputa and the Keeper of the Snake； who seemed to have stepped out of an antique world。
Laputa stripped off his leopard skin till he stood stark； a noble form of a man。 Then the priest sprinkled some herbs on the fire； and a thin smoke rose to the roof。 The smell was that I had smelled on the Kirkcaple shore； sweet； sharp； and strange enough to chill the marrow。 And round the fire went the priest in widening and contracting circles； just as on that Sabbath evening in spring。
Once more we were sitting on the ground； all except Laputa and the Keeper。 Henriques was squatting in the front row； a tiny creature among so many burly savages。 Laputa stood with bent head in the centre。
Then a song began； a wild incantation in which all joined。 The old priest would speak some words； and the reply came in barbaric music。 The words meant nothing to me； they must have been in some tongue long since dead。 But the music told its own tale。 It spoke of old kings and great battles； of splendid palaces and strong battlements； of queens white as ivory； of death and life； love and hate； joy and sorrow。 It spoke； too； of desperate things； mysteries of horror long shut to the world。 No Kaffir ever forged that ritual。 It must have come straight from Prester John or Sheba's queen； or whoever ruled in Africa when time was young。
I was horribly impressed。 Devouring curiosity and a lurking nameless fear filled my mind。 My old dread had gone。 I was not afraid now of Kaffir guns； but of the black magic of which Laputa had the key。
The incantation died away； but still herbs were flung on the fire； till the smoke rose in a great cloud； through which the priest loomed misty and huge。 Out of the smoke…wreaths his voice came high and strange。 It was as if some treble stop had been opened in a great organ； as against the bass drone of the cataract。
He was asking Laputa questions； to which came answers in that rich voice which on board the liner had preached the gospel of Christ。 The tongue I did not know； and I doubt if my