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.
Instead of replying, Artem handed the archeologist the chest without uttering a word; he just pointed to the ornament on the lid.
“All right, so what does this have to do with the map?”
“It’s right here! You can see for yourself!”
“You mean this ornament?”
“Yes, this ornament, and none other! This ornament is the map Pronis mentions in his message. It’s like a maze, you know. Just have a closer look; it’s terribly simple!” Three heads leaned over the lid of the chest. Six eyes began examining the intricate pattern of lines on it, exchanging occasional agitated remarks. Dmitro Borisovich was distrustfully tracing the groove of the main line with his finger. Lida went into raptures, uttering words of praise; Ivan Semenovich nodded his head in contentment.
As for Artem, he had completely lost control. He rushed up to Diana, grabbed the head of the astounded dog, turned it this way and that, pushed her over, and rolled her over onto her back. Diana did not offer any resistance as she was quite accustomed to such expressions of feelings in the effusive young man. And in spite of the fact that today’s expressions were especially violent, Diana only gently pressed her teeth into the man’s hand.
Artem pushed and pulled, patting the dog’s back and sides. His happy voice rang out triumphantly in the room: “We’ve got the map! We’ve got the map! We’ve got it!”
CHAPTER FOUR
The representations of horses and Scythian heads are discovered on the walls of the subterranean passages, and the enigma of the torches is solved; an unexpected obstacle blocks the way and Diana expresses the common attitude toward it; gray gas threatens to destroy the expedition and there seems to be no chance of rescue.
Ivan Semenovich stopped before the entrance to the cave and turned to his companions. He looked everyone over thoroughly and meticulously checked their gear. As was always the case before, this time, too, Ivan Semenovich took upon himself the leadership in the expedition in spite of the fact that now it was of an archeological nature rather than a geological one. When Ivan Semenovich had drawn Dmitro Borisovich’s attention to this circumstance before leaving home, and suggested that the latter assume leadership of the group, the archeologist dismissed the offer with a wave of his hand:
“Of course I won’t, my dear friend. Going through a cave is not an archeological venture; it belongs rather to a realm of which you, as a geologist, have much better knowledge. If we’re lucky enough to come across some ancient artifacts which would concern archeology, then, yes, I’m at your service, and will gladly take up the leadership. But now… no, and once again no. Don’t talk about it any more. You lead us! You give the commands!”
This time they did not overburden themselves, since they planned an expedition of only a short duration. What they had set out to do was to investigate some of the passages and corridors in the cave. If the predictions and expectations came true, then they could always come back to the cave, bringing along diggers and all the necessary tools and equipment for carrying out steady, purposeful work.
“Is everybody in good shape? All right, all right, you don’t have to prove it, I can see that you are. Do you have the dynamite charges, Artem? Good. What about the map? Do you have that with you, too, Artem? You haven’t left it behind, have you?”
The young man grinned broadly: Ivan Semenovich must be joking!
“Good. Has everyone got something for lunch? Lamps? Pickaxes? Everything’s in order? All right then, let’s go. Dmitro Borisovich, please lead us since you already know some part of the way through the cave.”
The day, bright, sunny and warm, was left behind. Eternal night, damp and portentous, reigned supreme inside the cave. Lida realized that she was even slightly nervous. She felt quite different now than the time she and Dmitro Borisovich had explored the cave. She wondered why she was so apprehensive — what was the cause of her nervous tension. It was just a reconnoitering trip like the previous ones in which she had taken part. Had she been so affected by the fact that they were now following the route indicated in the ancient parchment that existed no more?… But did it make much difference what kind of a map they used — the ancient one or copy they had made?
Artem was — or seemed to be — more relaxed. He was constantly checking the route they were following against the one on the map copied from lid of the chest. Every so often he would look up at Dmitro Borisovich, Lida, and Ivan Semenovich. The geologist was reserved as always; he did not seem at all affected by their present unusual circumstances. There was probably nothing special in it for him since he seemed unaffected by the romance of archeology; rather he regarded everything in terms of geological prospecting.
Dmitro Borisovich, on the contrary, was quite understandably excited. For the first time since their arrival at the Sharp Mount, the entire group had set out on an almost purely geological venture which, in his opinion, was promising. Promising, yes, but what results would it yield? Hadn’t Dmitro Borisovich been bitterly disappointed many times before when seemingly promising beginnings had fallen through without justifying the hopes of the archeologists?… Could it happen this time as well?.. It shouldn’t, actually. The main thing was not to miss a single detail, not a single feature: everything here could be of importance, provided, of course, Pronis’s map and text were genuine.