Chapter 32 | Another Serpent | Yussuf the Guide

The professor uttered a groan, and covered his eyes.

But only for a moment. The next he was descending from his horse, and beginning to clamber down the side of the precipice, but a cry from Yussuf stopped him.

“No, no, effendi. We must go back down to the side of the river and climb up. We cannot descend.”

It was so plain that the professor said nothing; but, as if yielding to the command of a superior officer, clambered back to the pathway, and all stood gazing down to where the slope ended and the perpendicular wall began.

There was nothing to see but the top of the wall of rock: nothing to hear but the hissing, roaring rush of the water far below.

“Come,” said Yussuf, turning his horse, and taking the lead in the descent along the path they had just reascended, down which, scrambling and slipping over the thawing ice, they crept slowly, looking in the midst of the stupendous chasm little bigger than flies.

The old lawyer trembled, while the professor’s cheeks looked sunken, his eyes hollow. No one spoke, and as they went on, the crunching of the half-melted hailstones and the click of the horses’ hoofs against the loosened stones sounded loudly in the clear air.

It was a perilous descent, for the horses were constantly slipping; but at last the bottom of the defile was reached, and the steeds being left in charge of Hamed, Yussuf turned sharply to the right, closely followed by Mr Preston and Mr Burne, to climb along the steep stone-burdened slope, where the flooded mountain torrent was just beneath them and threatening to sweep them away.

Yussuf turned from time to time to look at his companions, half expecting that they would not follow, for the way he took was extremely perilous, and he fully expected to see Mr Preston give up in despair. But, experienced as he was in the ways of Englishmen, he did not quite understand their nature, for not only was the professor toiling on over the mossy stones just behind him, but Mr Burne, with his face glistening in perspiration and a set look of determination in his features, was clambering up and sliding down with unwonted agility, but with a piteous look in his eyes which told how painfully he felt the position in which they were placed.

No one spoke, every effort being needed for the toilsome task, as they clambered along, now down in narrow rifts, now dragging themselves painfully over the rugged masses of rock which lay as they had fallen from the side of the defile, a couple of thousand feet above them. The scene would have appeared magnificent at another time; the colours of the rocks, the tufts of verdant bushes, the gloriously-mossed stones, the patches of white hail, and the glancing, rushing, and gleaming torrent, which was here deep and dark, there one sheet of white effervescing foam. But the hearts of all were too full, and their imaginations were painting the spectacle upon which they soon expected to gaze, namely, the terribly mutilated body of poor Lawrence, battered by his fall out of recognition.

One moment Mr Preston was asking himself how he could make arrangements for taking the remains of the poor lad home. At another he was thinking that it would be impossible, and that he must leave him sleeping in this far-off land. While, again, the course of his thoughts changed, and he found himself believing that poor Lawrence would have fallen and rolled on, and then, in company with the avalanche of loose stones set in motion by his horse’s hoof’s, have been plunged into the furious torrent, and been borne away never to be seen again.

A curious dimness came over the professor’s eyes, as he paused for a moment or two upon the top of a rock, to gaze before him. But there was nothing visible, for the defile at the bottom curved and zigzagged so that they could not see thirty yards before them, and where it was most straight the abundant foliage of the trees growing out of the cliffs rendered seeing difficult.

“It must have been somewhere here, effendi,” said Yussuf at last, pausing for the others to overtake him, and pointing upwards. “Let us separate now, and search about. You, Mr Burne, keep close down by the river; you, Mr Preston, go forward here; and I will climb up—it is more difficult—and search there. I will shout if I have anything to say.”

The professor looked up to find that he was at the foot of a mass of rock, high up on whose side there seemed to be a ledge, and then another steep ascent, broken by shelves of rock and masses which seemed to be ready to crumble down upon their heads.

Each man felt as if he ought to shout the lad’s name, and ask him to give some token of his whereabouts, but no one dared open his lips for the dread of the answer to the calls being only the echoes from the rocks above, while beneath there was the dull, hurrying roar of the torrent which rose and fell, seeming to fill the air with a curious hissing sound, and making the earth vibrate beneath their feet.

They were separating, with the tension of pain upon their minds seeming more than they could bear, when, all at once, from far above, there was a cry which made them start and gaze upward.

“Ahoy–y–oy!”

There was nothing visible, and they remained perfectly silent—listening, and feeling that they must have been mistaken; but just then a stone came bounding down, to fall some fifty feet in front, right on to a mass of rock, and split into a score of fragments.

Then again:

“Ahoy! Where are you all?”

“Lawrence, ahoy!” shouted the professor, with his hands to his mouth.

“Ahoy!” came again from directly overhead. “Here. How am I to get down?”

All started back as far as they could to gaze upward, and then remained silent, too much overcome by their emotion to speak, for there, perched up at least a thousand feet above them, stood Lawrence in an opening among the trees, right upon a shelf of rock. They could see his horse’s head beside him, and the feeling of awe and wonder at the escape had an effect upon the party below as if they had been stunned.

“How—am—I—to—get—down?” shouted Lawrence again.

Yussuf started out of his trance and answered:

“Stay where you are. I will try and climb up.”

“All right,” cried Lawrence from his eyrie.

“Are you hurt, my boy?” cried Mr Preston; and his voice was repeated from the face of the rock on the other side.

“No, not much,” came back faintly, for the boy’s voice was lost in the immensity of the place around.

“We will come to you,” cried the professor, and he began to follow Yussuf, who was going forward to find the end of the mass of rock wall, and try to discover some way of reaching the shelf where the boy was standing with his horse.

“Are you coming too, effendi?” said Yussuf at the end of a few minutes’ walking.

“Yes,” said the professor. “You will wait here, will you not, Burne?”

“Of course I shall—not,” said the old lawyer. “You don’t suppose that I am going to stand still and not make any effort to help the boy, do you, Preston? Hang it all, sir! he is as much interest to me as to you.”

It was evident that Mr Burne was suffering from exhaustion, but he would not give in, and for the next two hours he clambered on after his companions, till it seemed hopeless to attempt farther progress along the defile in that direction, and they were about to go back in the other, to try and find a way up there, when Yussuf, who was ahead, suddenly turned a corner and uttered a cry of delight which brought his companions to his side.

There was nothing very attractive to see when they reached him, only a rushing little torrent at the bottom of a rift hurrying to join the stream below; but it was full of moment to Yussuf, for it led upward, and it was a break in the great wall of rock.

Yussuf explained this clearly, and, plunging down, he was in a few minutes holding out his hand to his companions, and pointing out that the path was easier a few yards on.

So it proved, for the stream grew less, and they were able to climb up its bed with ease, finding, too, that it led in the direction they wanted to take, as well as upward, till, at the end of an hour, they were able to turn off along a steep slope with a wall of rock above them and another below.

The obstacles they met with were plentiful enough, but not great; and at last, when they felt that they were fully a thousand feet above the torrent, and somewhere near the spot on which they had hailed Lawrence, Yussuf stopped, but no one was to be seen.

“That must be the shelf below us yonder, effendi,” said the guide. “I seem to know it because of the big tree across the valley. Yes; that must be the shelf.”

He led the way to try and descend to it, but that proved impossible, though it was only some fifty feet below.

Retracing their steps they were still defeated, but, upon going forward once more, Yussuf found what was quite a crack in the rocks, some huge earthquake split which proved to be passable, in spite of the bushes and stones with which it was choked, and after a struggle they found themselves upon an extensive ledge of the mountain, but no Lawrence.

“The wrong place, Yussuf,” said the professor, as Mr Burne seated himself, panting, upon a block of stone, and wiped his face.

“No, effendi; but I am sure it was here,” said the Turk quietly. “Hush! what is that?”

The sound came from beyond a mass of rock, which projected from the shelf over the edge of the precipice, the perpendicular rock seeming to fall from here sheer to the torrent, that looked small and silvery now from where they stood.

“It is a horse feeding,” said Yussuf smiling. “They are over yonder.”

The next minute they were by the projecting rock which cut the shelf in two.

Yussuf went close to the edge, rested his hand upon the stone, and peered over.

“Only a bird could get round there,” he said, shaking his head, and going to the slope above the ledge. “We must climb over.”

Mr Burne looked up at the place where they were expected to climb with a lugubrious expression of countenance; but he jumped up directly, quite willing to make the attempt, and followed his companions.

The climb proved less difficult than it seemed, and on reaching the top, some fifty feet above where they had previously stood, there below them stood Ali Baba, cropping the tender shoots of a large bush, and as soon as he caught sight of them he set up a loud neigh.

There was no sign of Lawrence, though, until they had descended to the shelf on that side, when they found him lying upon the short growth fast asleep, evidently tired out with waiting.

“My dear boy!” was on the professor’s lips; and he was about to start forward, but Yussuf caught him roughly by the shoulder, and held him back.

“Hist! Look!” he whispered.

Both the professor and Mr Burne stood chilled to the heart, for they could see the head of an ugly grey coarsely scaled viper raised above its coil, and gazing at them threateningly, after having been evidently alarmed by the noise which they had made.

The little serpent had settled itself upon the lad’s bare throat, and a reckless movement upon the part of the spectators, a hasty waking on the sleeper’s part might end in a venomous bite from the awakened beast.

“What shall we do, Yussuf?” whispered, the professor in a hoarse whisper. “I dare not fire.”

“Be silent, effendi, and leave it to me,” was whispered back; and, while the two Englishmen looked on with their hearts beating anxiously, the Turk slowly advanced, taking the attention of the serpent more and more.

As he approached, the venomous little creature crept from the boy’s neck on to his chest, and there paused, waving its head to and fro, and menacingly thrusting out its forked tongue.

The danger to be apprehended was a movement upon the part of Lawrence, who appeared to be sleeping soundly, but who might at any moment awaken. Yussuf, however, was ready to meet the emergency, for he slowly continued to advance with his staff thrown back and held ready to strike, while, as he came nearer, the serpent seemed to accept the challenge, and crawled slowly forward, till it was upon a level with the lad’s hips.

That was near enough for Yussuf, who noted how Lawrence’s hands were well out of danger, being beneath his head.

He hesitated no longer, but advanced quickly, his companions watching his movements with the most intense interest, till the serpent raised itself higher, threw back its head, and seemed about to throw itself upon its advancing enemy.

The rest was done in a flash, for there was a loud whizz in the air as Yussuf’s staff swept over Lawrence, striking the serpent, rapid as was its action, low down in the body, and the virulent little creature, broken and helpless, was driven over the edge of the precipice to fall far away among the bushes below.

“Hallo! what’s that?” cried Lawrence, starting up. “Oh, you’ve got here, then.”

“Yes; we are here, my lad,” cried the professor, catching one hand, as the old lawyer took the other. “Are you much hurt?”

“Only stiff and shaken. Ali made such a tremendous leap—I don’t know how far it was; and then he came down like an india-rubber ball, and bounded again and again till he could find good foothold, and then we slipped slowly till we could stop here, and it seemed as if we could go no farther.”

“What an escape!” muttered Mr Burne, looking up.

“Oh, it wasn’t there,” said Lawrence patting his little horse’s neck. “It must have been quite a quarter of a mile from here. But how did you come?”

Yussuf explained, and then Mr Preston looked aghast at the rock they had climbed over.

“Why, we shall have to leave the pony,” he said.

“Oh, no, effendi,” replied Yussuf; “leave him to me. He can climb like a goat.”

And so it proved, for the brave little beast, as soon as it was led to the task by the rein passed over its head, climbed after Yussuf, and in fact showed itself the better mountaineer of the two, while, after the rock was surmounted, and a descent made upon the other side, it followed its master in the arduous walk, slipping and gliding down the torrent-bed when they reached it, till at last they reached the greater stream, which to their delight had fallen to its regular summer volume, the effects of the storm having passed away, and the sandy bed being nearly bare.

Theirs proved quite an easy task now, in spite of weariness; and as evening fell, they reached Hamed, camped by the roadside, with the horses grazing on the bushes and herbage, all being ready to salute Ali Baba with a friendly neigh.

They had a long journey before them still; but there was only one thing to be done now—unpack the provisions, light a fire, make coffee, and try to restore some of their vigour exhausted by so many hours of toil.