End of the world -- Fiction; Epidemics -- Fiction; Science fiction; Twenty-first century -- Fiction
I signified my readiness to proceed, but our guides protested against
such a measure. With great volubility, in their native Neapolitan
dialect, with which we were not very familiar, they told us that there
were spectres, that the roof would fall in, that it was too narrow to
admit us, that there was a deep hole within, filled with water, and we
might be drowned. My friend shortened the harangue, by taking the man’s
torch from him; and we proceeded alone.
The passage, which at first scarcely admitted us, quickly grew narrower
and lower; we were almost bent double; yet still we persisted in making
our way through it. At length we entered a wider space, and the low
roof heightened; but, as we congratulated ourselves on this change, our
torch was extinguished by a current of air, and we were left in utter
darkness. The guides bring with them materials for renewing the light,
but we had none—our only resource was to return as we came. We groped
round the widened space to find the entrance, and after a time fancied
that we had succeeded. This proved however to be a second passage,
which evidently ascended. It terminated like the former; though
something approaching to a ray, we could not tell whence, shed a very
doubtful twilight in the space. By degrees, our eyes grew somewhat
accustomed to this dimness, and we perceived that there was no direct
passage leading us further; but that it was possible to climb one side
of the cavern to a low arch at top, which promised a more easy path,
from whence we now discovered that this light proceeded. With
considerable difficulty we scrambled up, and came to another passage
with still more of illumination, and this led to another ascent like
the former.
After a succession of these, which our resolution alone permitted us to
surmount, we arrived at a wide cavern with an arched dome-like roof. An
aperture in the midst let in the light of heaven; but this was
overgrown with brambles and underwood, which acted as a veil, obscuring
the day, and giving a solemn religious hue to the apartment. It was
spacious, and nearly circular, with a raised seat of stone, about the
size of a Grecian couch, at one end. The only sign that life had been
here, was the perfect snow-white skeleton of a goat, which had probably
not perceived the opening as it grazed on the hill above, and had
fallen headlong. Ages perhaps had elapsed since this catastrophe; and
the ruin it had made above, had been repaired by the growth of
vegetation during many hundred summers.
The rest of the furniture of the cavern consisted of piles of leaves,
fragments of bark, and a white filmy substance, resembling the inner
part of the green hood which shelters the grain of the unripe Indian
corn. We were fatigued by our struggles to attain this point, and
seated ourselves on the rocky couch, while the sounds of tinkling
sheep-bells, and shout of shepherd-boy, reached us from above.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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