A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper CylinderDe Mille, James
Philosophy
A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder
De Mille, James
Science fiction
The boat drifted on. The light given by the aurora and the low moon
seemed to grow fainter; and as I looked behind I saw that the distant
glow from the volcanic fires had become more brilliant in the
increasing darkness. The sides of the channel grew steeper, until at
last they became rocky precipices, rising to an unknown height. The
channel itself grew narrower, till from a width of two miles it had
contracted to a tenth of those dimensions; but with this lessening
width the waters seemed to rush far more swiftly. Here I drifted
helplessly, and saw the gloomy, rocky cliffs sweep past me as I was
hurled onward on the breast of the tremendous flood. I was in despair.
The fate of Agnew had prepared me for my own, and I was only thankful
that my fate, since it was inevitable, would be less appalling. Death
seemed certain, and my chief thought now was as to the moment when it
would come. I was prepared. I felt that I could meet it calmly,
sternly, even thankfully; far better was a death here amid the roar of
waters than at the hands of those abhorrent beings by whose treachery
my friend had fallen.
As I went on, the precipices rose higher and seemed to overhang, the
channel grew narrower, the light grew fainter, until at last all
around me grew dark. I was floating at the bottom of a vast chasm,
where the sides seemed to rise precipitously for thousands of feet,
where neither watery flood nor rocky wall was visible, and where, far
above, I could see the line of sky between the summits of the cliffs,
and watch the glowing stars. And as I watched them there came to me
the thought that this was my last sight on earth, and I could only
hope that the life which was so swiftly approaching its end might live
again somewhere among those glittering orbs. So I thought; and with
these thoughts I drifted on, I cannot tell how long, until at length
there appeared a vast black mass, where the open sky above me
terminated, and where the lustre of the stars and the light of the
heavens were all swallowed up in utter darkness.
This, then, I thought, is the end. Here, amid this darkness, I must
make the awful plunge and find my death I fell upon my knees in the
bottom of the boat and prayed. As I knelt there the boat drew nearer,
the black mass grew blacker. The current swept me on. There were no
breakers; there was no phosphorescent sparkle of seething waters, and
no whiteness of foam. I thought that I was on the brink of some
tremendous cataract a thousand times deeper than Niagara; some fall
where the waters plunged into the depths of the earth; and where,
gathering for the terrific descent, all other movements--all dashings
and writhings and twistings--were obliterated and lost in the one
overwhelming onward rush. Suddenly all grew dark--dark beyond all
expression; the sky above was in a moment snatched from view; I had
been flung into some tremendous cavern; and there, on my knees, with
terror in my heart, I waited for death.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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