“Aha,” Ivan Semenovich uttered at last, and slowly continued: “That’s really rather a big cave… I never thought there could be such things in this area… What do you say to that, Dmitro Borisovich?”
“What can I say? This is not exactly my cup of tea, Ivan Semenovich. This cave comes as a great surprise, but remains a fact. And there’s something over there that baffles me… Look over there at those shadows — they’re columns but a bit too thick for columns as far as I’m concerned. Artem, let’s go and have a better look.”
Artem could make out the outline of the first column about ten meters away. It rose high into the air and disappeared into the impenetrable darkness above. The column seemed to get thinner the higher it went. But in the tricky light and enveloping darkness, it was impossible to tell for sure. There were dozens of columns around, so Dmitro Borisovich and Artem examined the bases of several ones in the light of their lamps, and Artem tried unsuccessfully to climb one of them.
As Ivan Semenovich and Lida joined the two men, the combined glare of the lamps increased the illuminating power, but not enough. Dmitro Borisovich suddenly called out, pointing upwards:
“Look up there! There’s something over there, too!”
The columns were situated a short distance from one another. They shone in the light of the lamps, their surface uneven but glossy. And high above them, apparently on the ceiling of the cave, something glittered, too. But what was it?
“It’s not the continuation of this column that’s glittering up there,” Ivan Semenovich said, peering into the darkness. “It’s something to the side… Aha, my good friends! The enigma is solved. As a matter of fact, it also solves the last riddle in Pronis’s text. Now everything’s clear!”
The rest were looking at him in bewilderment. What was Ivan Semenovich driving at? The archeologist asked then:
“What ‘last riddle’ do you have in mind?”
Without answering, Ivan Semenovich pointed to the nearest column with a broad gesture of his hand:
“Do you see these layers of deposits? Aren’t they fairly typical? Lida, you surely can tell us what natural formations are made of layers of limestone.”
Lida replied immediately:
“Stalagmites! Of course! What a shame I didn’t guess earlier! It’s so obvious!”
“And in this case, what’s glittering up there?” the geologist went on, breaking into an open grin.
Now it was Artem who responded:
“It must be the stalactites, nothing else. It’s amazing we didn’t guess right off.”
“Nothing so surprising in it, my dear friend. No one expected to see stalactites and stalagmites inside the mount. It doesn’t look like a geological formation that might have them. And secondly, this darkness could mislead anyone. So, there’s no reason whatsoever to be ashamed. And now — who can tell me what ‘last riddle’ of Pronis I had in mind?”
Nobody ventured an answer.
“My good friends, it is so easy to guess. Don’t you remember what the text says? ‘Beyond the torches pointing upwards and torches pointing downwards he will find…’ Here you have torches pointing upwards,” and he pointed to the stalagmites, “and torches pointing downwards, stalactites.
Isn’t this what Pronis wrote about? Ah, Dmitro Borisovich, you should have figured this one out!”
“Didn’t you speak of the obscuring effect of this darkness just a short while ago, Ivan Semenovich? Besides, these things are not at all my field of study. It is geology that deals with them, not archeology.”
“All right, all right, don’t start arguing; it won’t help you anyway. Let’s not waste time on idle talk. And this is not the proper place for debates. Artem, what does the map say now? Does it indicate a further route?”
Artem was crouching by the lamp reading the map at the moment. There were so many turns one could take indeed, wandering among the stalagmites that choosing the right one seemed quite impossible. The situation was further aggravated by the darkness! But Pronis’s map once again proved very reliable: the way through the stalagmite cave was indicated as perpendicular to the wall where the passage that had led them to it opened. The map also showed clearly that after a turn to the right at some point ahead of them, they should arrive at the end of the cave.
“Let’s get moving then,” Ivan Semenovich ordered after consulting the map. “It seems we’re on the right track. Time’s pressing!”
It was an exciting trip. The chimeric shapes rose high on all sides. They seemed to be growing from the ground, rising higher and higher, tapering and dissolving in the darkness. At some stretches, the ceiling of the cave seemed lower, or perhaps the ground rose; but which of the two things was extremely difficult to say. Anyway, at such places the light of the lamps reached the stalactites as well. These long glossy, uneven cones of fantastic variety were hanging from the ceiling with their tips almost meeting those of the stalagmites.
Artem was drinking in this phantasmagorical display put together by nature, so generous in its ingenious creations. Elongated snow-white cones gave way to glittering greenish formations like icicles that seemed liberally studded with shining precious stones; they in turn were replaced by large and thin sheets of limestone that seemed to be fluttering in a strong wind. These limestone sheets were so thin it made one wonder how they had come into being — one gentle touch seemed enough to shatter them into bits.
Then the rows of somber high stalagmites emerged from the darkness again. They stood like an immobile army of limestone troops, whimsically reflecting the light from the lamps and casting pitch-black shadows. For thousands of years they had been standing there, and they would remain standing for thousands of years into the future, watching the millenia pass. The enigmatic Pronis, prior to writing his testament, drawing his map, and carving it into the lid of the chest to be hidden behind a stone wall, must have passed through these majestic chambers, descending deeper and deeper into the subterranean world. For whom had he hidden the chest? He must have been a courageous man to have wandered all alone through such somber and menacing places.
“How beautiful and how unusual!” uttered Lida under her breath in excitement. “To think that all this has been created by no more than dripping water and limestone! Tiny drops falling from the ceiling, leaving imperceptible deposits of dissolved limestone… How long it must have taken for those giants to grow to their present size and form all these fantastic shapes!”
Artem understood Lida’s feelings very well, because he himself was impressed: he had never seen anything like it before!
“Rockslide ahead!” Dmitro Borisovich called out. “The way is blocked.”
Another barrier? Would they have to turn back without reaching their destination?
The path, meandering among the stalagmites, had taken them to the opposite wall of the cave and ended there.
Everybody stood in gloomy silence, eyeing the new hindrance. How thick was it? Would it be possible to get through? No one could provide an answer. Huge pieces of rock and earth seemed to have been tossed just at that spot on purpose by a hostile monster.
“Diana, what’s the matter?” Ivan Semenovich asked the dog.
The boxer, who had so far been running quietly at her master’s side — it was not her first trip underground with him, after all — barked fiercely and sharply again and again. She was standing before the rockfall, her muscles taut, her body straining forward, and seemed to be trembling with rage. She was staring at the rocks and earth blocking their way as if they were something alive and hostile. Another bark — worried and aggressive at the same time! Then the dog began to move away slowly.