Descendants of the Scythians - Страница 87

“Look at this… Still, I’m surprised at the change in you, Artem! With such an excellent mind as yours — and to miss such an obvious thing! Didn’t I teach to keep your sense of direction, in any situation? All right, tell me, did you notice the direction the Scythians took at the start of their funeral journey?”

“They headed west,” Artem readily replied.

“Did they keep going west?”

“No, they didn’t. They ended up heading north.”

“Good. So you did notice the change of direction, didn’t you? I’m glad. But why didn’t you draw the necessary conclusions from it? Try to do so now.”

Artem’s mind was set working feverishly while his eyes were riveted on the plan before him. What was the catch? But it was Lida who was the first with the answer:

“I remember! You talked about the procession moving in a curve along the cliffs!”

“That’s correct, Lida. But which necessary conclusions do we have to draw from this?”

Now Lida fell to thinking. What conclusions, really?

“Yes, the procession kept moving along the cliffs,” the geologist said. “Good. But it swerved to the right as it moved, changing direction from west to north and then slowly to east, and finally south. That’s what I have here in my plan. Look.”

The line, tracing schematically the progress of the procession, made almost a complete circle on the paper.

“You noticed the change of direction, Artem, but the most important thing you seem to have missed: the procession eventually turned south,” Ivan Semenovich said. “You haven’t guessed what I’m driving at yet, Artem? Think harder!”

Then, in a flash, everything became clear to Artem, and the strange drawing revealed its meaning. Of course! The procession had made almost a complete circle and arrived at…

“Ivan Semenovich!” he cried out. “Ivan Semenovich! I know! It’s so simple I’m ashamed of myself for not guessing earlier!”

“And?”

“We made a circle, moving along the walls of this underground world and came back to where we had started! So it must be the same cave where we were nearly killed by that gas! Damn it, I should have guessed myself! I noticed the direction in which the procession was moving change soon after it had started! Dmitro Borisovich, don’t you remember, we talked about it? We tried to figure out what it would mean for us? Do you remember that?”

Dmitro Borisovich after some hesitation said, nodding his head:

“Yes, I remember some talk about the change in direction; yes, we did talk about that. But I don’t remember us arriving at any conclusions, Artem. No, I positively don’t.”

“But isn’t what I said now correct? Isn’t it, Ivan Semenovich?” Artem said passionately.

“Absolutely,” the geologist said. “We have come back to our stalactite cave, though, of course, not at the same place we entered the Scythian world, but a little further to the north. I would estimate that we would have about a mile to go before we get to the section of the cave with which we are familiar. Of course, my calculations are valid only if my compass is in order. I have relied on it all the time though, but just in case, let’s check it. Artem, do you still have your compass?”

Artem quickly produced it — the hands of both were in identical positions.

“Aha, that means everything’s all right,” Ivan Semenovich said with conviction. “Let’s get started, my friends! We don’t have much time — don’t forget it’s vital for us to have some light, and there can’t be too much fuel left in the lamp. It must last until we get to the place where we left our other three lamps. We must try to find them.”

They were about to start when Artem said:

“Wait, Ivan Semenovich, what about that gas? It almost killed us then!”

Ivan Semenovich dismissed the objection with a wave of his hand:

“Don’t worry, my friend. If it is still there, we’ll be able to detect it long before we plunge into it. But I’m sure it has either dissipated or decomposed. Anyway, we’ll see. Now, let’s go, my friends, and be quick about it!”

* * *

They moved among the stalagmites, constantly checking their direction with the compass. Ivan Semenovich was at the head of the party, Artem following right behind, trying to keep up the pace set by the geologist.

Artem ran the explanations through his mind again and again.

The enormous underground cavity where the Scythians lived and upon which the explorers had inadvertently stumbled, had its limits, stupendously big though it was. It was circular at ground level, and the funeral procession had just gone around it, arriving not far from where it had started! Very luckily for the explorers, the sight of the burial turned out to be close to their stalactite cave! It looked so simple now, and yet was incredible.

Compared with the cave of the Scythian world, the stalactite cave was tiny, but in its turn, it was gigantic by any human standards. It was vitally important now for the explorers to move in the proper direction which would take them to the place from where all their incredible adventures had begun. The loss of direction was fraught with… But no — Artem had joined Ivan Semenovich on many occasions for underground explorations and not once had the geologist’s keen, experienced eyes and sense of direction let them down. There was another thing, enigmatic as much as that they had encountered recently, which was on Artem’s mind now. Maybe Ivan Semenovich had found the answer to it during the long days of captivity and just hadn’t had time to tell him about it…

“Ivan Semenovich,” Artem said in a low voice, “I’ve got a question for you.”

“What kind of question?” the geologist asked, turning his head but not stopping.

“That gas. Where did it come from? It did not come from the Scythian world, did it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Where did it come from then?”

“Without making a chemical analysis of the gas, it’s impossible to say anything for sure, but I would venture a guess that what happened was this: in a rather small cavity, separated both from the stalactite cave and the immense Scythian underground world, some unknown gas was formed due to chemical or even organic processes.”

“It was a poisonous gas, too,” Artem remarked.

“No, I don’t think it was, my friend. Had it been poisonous, we would have been… errr… effected in a very different manner. No, it was not poisonous, Artem. I would reckon it was a heavy, neutral gas with no oxygen in it, and possibly with an admixture of some substance with a narcotic effect which knocked us out for some time. So it had all the properties of an asphyxiating gas. This.gas was trapped in the cavity where it had been forming for centuries until we came along and released it by blowing a hole in the massive rocks. As it escaped…”

“It escaped and nearly killed us,” Dmitro Borisovich said emphatically, cutting into the geologist’s explanations, which he had been following keenly for some time as he walked.

“Yes, it was a rather unpleasant encounter,” Ivan Semenovich agreed. Before he continued, he checked the direction with his compass. “But most important is that our most trying adventures are over.”

“If we don’t walk into that gas again,” Dmitro Borisovich said with the same emphasis, and even rather sullenly this time.

“Oh, how horrible that would be!” the geologist said mockingly. “You’re in a very pessimistic mood today. But I can guarantee that we won’t find any traces of that gas.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“Because such gases are very unstable and easily decompose, mixing with the air!”

They walked for some time in silence. The going was easy — there were no major obstacles in their way. Skirting a stalagmite, Dmitro Borisovich thought that now all of their miraculous, fantastic adventures seemed to have been no more than a dream. But the Scythian helmet on his head was very real! And the long-handled battle-axe in his hands was very real, too!

And the life of the nomadic Scythian tribe? Wasn’t that much too real? And it was good to know there was a chance of being able to return some time in the future to this strange underground world of the Scythians, ancient but still very much alive! To study their life thoroughly!

Fantastic! Incredible! The discovery that he and his friends had made — albeit involuntarily — would open a new era in archeology! He thought of the reaction of the scientific world to his sensational report: some would be enthusiastic, others skeptical, still others — derisive. He would challenge the skeptics to go down underground to the subterranean realm of the living Scythians and see for themselves! A reality that could be more fantastic than the wildest flights of imagination!

The archeologist’s head began spinning: what tremendous vistas of research would be opened! He couldn’t keep silent any longer, he was bursting with enthusiasm:

“Ivan Semenovich, my dear friend, just think! We’ll be able to return to the Scythians again with a well-equipped archeological expedition! We’ll come to them as friends…”

He stopped abruptly as the pale face of the dead Varkan appeared before his mind’s eye.

“Friends…” Artem repeated as though in an echo. “Yes, let’s hope our friends will have won by that time… but we shall not find our poor Varkan among them…”

Artem heaved a sigh. Wonderful Varkan who had sacrificed his life for his blood brother! Artem would never see him again; never again would he shake the strong hand of this open and courageous man.