When the World Shook: Being an Account of the Great Adventure of Bastin, Bickley and ArbuthnotHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Science
When the World Shook: Being an Account of the Great Adventure of Bastin, Bickley and Arbuthnot
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Adventure stories; Science fiction
Therefore, none of us cared: Bastin because his faith was equal to any
emergency and there was always that white-robed heaven waiting for him
beyond which his imagination did not go (I often wondered whether he
pictured Mrs. Bastin as also waiting; if so, he never said anything
about her); Bickley because as a child of the Present and a servant of
knowledge he feared no future, believing it to be for him non-existent,
and was careless as to when his strenuous hour of life should end; and
I because I felt that yonder lay my true future; yes, and my true past,
even though to discover them I must pass through that portal which we
know as Death.
We reached the mouth of the cave. It was a vast place; perhaps the arch
of it was a hundred feet high, and I could see that once all this arch
had been adorned with sculptures. Protected as these were by the
overhanging rock, for the sculptured mouth of the cave was cut deep
into the mountain face, they were still so worn that it was impossible
to discern their details. Time had eaten them away like an acid. But
what length of time? I could not guess, but it must have been
stupendous to have worked thus upon that hard and sheltered rock.
This came home to me with added force when, from subsequent
examination, we learned that the entire mouth of this cave had been
sealed up for unnumbered ages. It will be remembered that Marama told
me the mountain in the lake had risen much during the frightful cyclone
in which we were wrecked and with it the cave mouth which previously
had been invisible. From the markings on the mountain side it was
obvious that something of the sort had happened very recently, at any
rate on this eastern face. That is, either the flat rock had sunk or
the volcano had been thrown upwards.
Once in the far past the cave had been as it was when we found it. Then
it had gone down in such a way that the table-rock entirely sealed the
entrance. Now this entrance was once more open, and although of course
there was a break in them, the grooves of which I have spoken ran on
into the cave at only a slightly different level from that at which
they lay upon the flat rock. And yet, although they had been thus
sheltered by a great stone curtain in front of them, still these
sculptures were worn away by the tooth of Time. Of course, however,
this may have happened to them _before_ they were buried in some
ancient cataclysm, to be thus resurrected at the hour of our arrival
upon the island.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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