Descendants of the Scythians - Страница 12

“What about horses and a boar then?” Lida voiced her doubts.

“If we make a point of looking for them, we’re sure to find them too,” Artem replied with conviction. “Do you have anything else to suggest by way of explanation?”

“No, I don’t,” the girl admitted in all frankness.

Dmitro Borisovich began fingering his beard pensively, a sure indication of concentration when he was thinking over a problem.

“You may be right,” he uttered. “In any case, in our exploration of the cave, we’ll have to keep your interesting idea in mind. At this moment, Artem’s hypothesis is the only workable suggestion as to how the mystery of those heads and boars could be solved… An ingenious thought, my young friend!”

Artem could not help smiling contentedly.

“Nevertheless it does not offer a comprehensive solution,” the archeologist went on. “How should we interpret these torches for instance?”

“I don’t know,” honestly admitted Artem. “I can’t figure it out.”

“I don’t think the main problem lies here,” Ivan Semenovich cut in. “The heads, horses and boars might really be a reference to the pictures on the walls. Such a solution can be easily accepted. But the main thing — the enigmatic map mentioned in the text — where is it? The text itself doesn’t suffice to arrive at the final solution. The writer himself continually insists on the necessity of using some map. One gets the impression that those who will read the text will necessarily have the map as well. It is this map that is so conspicuously lacking. Could it have been put into the chest too?”

“Impossible. We examined it so thoroughly,” said Lida.

“Let’s have another look.”

But the new meticulous search did not yield anything. The chest was, beyond any doubt, absolutely empty except for a thin layer of fine dust at the bottom. Unfortunately this very dust led them to disheartening conclusion. What if the map had been drawn on another piece of parchment? What if that other piece of parchment had already decayed in the chest? This thin layer of dust could very well be its remnants… That could never be determined now…

“And what if we go reconnoitering without any map?” Artem asked hesitantly, for he was eager to find a way-out of this dead end.

“Nothing will come of it,” Dmitro Borisovich replied gloomily. “There are innumerable passages and corridors there. How will we know which way to go? The exploration of the cave without a map will take too much time…”

They were sitting around the table now. Dmitro Borisovich would not let the notebook out of his hands: it was as though he were afraid of losing it the way he had lost the parchment. Lida was staring pensively out the window.

There, beyond the hillock where she had been playing with Diana earlier in the day, the slopes of the Sharp Mount with its remarkable unexplored cave rose high. There, in the cave, if one were to believe Pronis, gold deposits were to be found… How fascinating! All these developments were more like an adventure story than real life.

Ivan Semenovich’s train of thought was of a different kind. As a sober, experienced geologist, he realized that the unexpected find made by Artem and Dmitro Borisovich necessitated the introduction of certain changes into their prospecting activities. Since the ancient manuscript really did speak of gold deposits, it would be foolish or even criminal not to try to locate them. Of course, Ivan Semenovich viewed things from a different point of view than the two young people or even Dmitro Borisovich, who was prone to be over-eager. The young people were seeking romance. Artem and Lida, after hearing stories about the Scythians, and learning of the enigmatic Pronis, all those heads, horses, boars and torches, were immediately thrilled by the suspense of the undertaking. As for Dmitro Borisovich, he was perfectly content with just the bronze chest and whatever other archeological finds they came across.

The strivings and thoughts of Ivan Semenovich were of quite a different nature. For him, a dedicated geologist who had been prospecting for valuable resourses all his life, the most important thing in all this unexpected affair with the chest lay in the unknown Pronis’ mention of gold deposits. That was something Ivan Semenovich simply could not ignore. But how should he set about looking for the gold?

If they had the map, mentioned by Pronis, it would make things so much easier. But even in the absense of the map, they had to start searching for the gold anyway. Things would go very slowly though, that much was clear. But then, what are the difficulties in this world for if not for man to overcome them!

Ivan Semenovich was mistaken in one thing though. Artem was daydreaming at the moment neither of the gold crowns of Scythian chieftains nor of the mysteries of the cave inside the Sharp Mount. His thoughts were flowing in quite a different direction, totally unconnected with present events. What had brought this on, Artem himself could not say, but in fact, he was reminiscing about his childhood.

He remembered neither his father nor his mother as they had died when he was very young. His memories began only with the orphanage. They were really his first memories and he called them “memories in gray overalls” in jest, because he and all other children there had been dressed in gray overalls for all occasions. Now it seemed such a long time ago…

Then, in search of adventure, he and his two friends had run away from the orphanage with its tedious monotonous routine. So he was a vagrant for some time, but came across nothing worthy of his time.

Once Artem saw some boys his age launching a toy plane in the field. He made their acquaintance; the boys were also from a foster-home, but theirs was quite different from the one he had run away from — not at all “gray-overalls” and dull. He could see it right away from the boys’ bright faces and animated talk. It was so exciting to watch the white model plane soar effortlessly into the air, so Artem stayed to talk to the boys. Then they all went back to the home for boys, and the principal allowed him to stay…

On the first night of Artem’s stay at the new children’s home, he was washed and dressed in clean clothes, then shown a new game he had never heard of called “Maze.” There were innumerable intersecting, twisting lines, drawn on a piece of paper with lots of traps and dead ends. The object was to find the way out of the maze without crossing the lines. It took Artem quite a long time, but in the end he found the way out. He liked the game immeasurably. And jthe teacher said with a laugh: “Always try to find a way out of any situation with the same persistency. Today you’ve found a way out for the second time.” Artem looked at her in bewilderment: why for the “second time”? The teacher explained: “The first time was when you came here. It was a way to escape hunger and homelessness. And the second time is now when you’ve found the way out of the maze. Do you understand?”

Artem smiled to himself when he remembered all that: he had made good use of the advice ever since. It had lodged firmly in his memory. From childhood on, he had always found a way out. He had finished high school, and now he was close to graduation from college. At the present moment, he was once again looking for a way out of a difficult situation… That’s right, he was looking for a way out… Hadn’t the recollections of his childhood and the Maze game with its traps and dead ends come to him in connection with their present dire straits?

Only then did Artem become aware that all this time, he had been holding the lid of the chest in his hands tracing his finger along the deep grooves of its tangled ornament. Again he smiled to himself: that’s what had really brought on the memory of the Maze game… It was as though he were again looking for a way out of the maze… this time made of a strange ornament rather than drawn on paper… How could he get out without crossing the lines?… Hm, what if he took this spot as a starting point?

He located the entrance, but where should he go from there? In fact there wasn’t much choice, since there was only one way along the main line with all the passages disappearing as soon as they branched off from the main route. This ancient craftsman had carved an amazing ornament to keep anyone who happened to be tracing it from going off the main line… What was that? What an extraordinary idea?

Artem’s head began to reel. He knit his brows trying to regain control of himself. No, it couldn’t be… It seemed… He ran his finger over the lines. Oh, had he found the map?

Artem could not control himself any longer. It was incredible, and yet he knew beyond a doubt now that he had made another discovery. What a tremendous piece of luck! Oh, how lucky, how very lucky he was! This was just what they were looking for, right here, so unexpectedly simple and clear. He couldn’t keep the news to himself any longer, especially since everyone was so gloomy…

“Hey, I’ve found it!”

They turned and stared at the young man in startled surprise. What had come over him? Why was his face glowing with such happiness?

In the meantime, Artem walked to the center of the room, holding the bronze chest in his hands and shouting frantically:

“The map! The map! It’s been found! It’s right here! Here it is, the chart of our mysterious friend Pronis!”

Artem did indeed look like a man possessed.

“Where? What map? What kind of nonsense is this, young man?” Dmitro Borisovich said, rushing to the boy in concern.