Cudjo's Cave

  XVI.

  _IN THE CAVE AND ON THE MOUNTAIN._

  That afternoon, as Penn was alone, the mystery of his removal from Mr.Villars's house was suddenly revealed to him.

  "I remember it very distinctly now," he said to Pomp, who presently camein and sat by his bed. "Ropes and his crew had been to the house for me.Sick and delirious as I was, I knew the danger to my friends, and itseemed to me that I _must_ leave the house. So I watched my opportunity,and when Toby left me for a minute, I darted through his room over thekitchen, climbed down from the window to the roof of the shed, and fromthere descended by an apple tree to the ground. This is the dream I havebeen trying to recall. It is all clear to me now. But I do not rememberany thing more. The delirium must have given me preternatural strength,if I walked all the distance to the spot where you found me."

  "That you did walk it, your bruised and bleeding feet were a sufficientevidence," said the negro. "You had just such delirious attacksafterwards, when it was as much as Cudjo and I wanted to do to holdyou."

  "And the blanket--it is Toby's blanket, which I caught up as I fled,"added Penn.

  He now became extremely anxious to communicate with his friends, toexplain his conduct to them, and let them know of his safety. Besides,he was now getting sufficiently strong to sit up a little, and otherclothing was necessary than the old minister's nightgown and Toby'sblanket.

  "I have been thinking it all over," said Pomp, "and have concluded topay your friends a visit."

  "No, no, my dear sir!" exclaimed Penn, with gratitude. "I can't let youincur any such danger on my account. I can never repay you for half youhave done for me already!" And he pressed the negro's hand as no whiteman had ever pressed it since the death of his good master, Dr.Bythewood.

  Pomp was deeply affected. His great chest heaved, and his powerfulfeatures were charged with emotion.

  "The risk will not be great," said he. "I will take Cudjo with me, andbetween us we will manage to bring off your clothes."

  At night the two blacks departed, leaving Penn alone in the fire-litcave, waiting for their return, picturing to himself all thedifficulties of their adventure, and thinking with warm gratitude andadmiration of Pomp, whose noble nature not even slavery could corrupt,whose benevolent heart not even wrong could embitter.

  It was late in the evening when the two messengers arrived at Mr.Villars's house. All was dark and still about the premises. But onelight was visible, and that was in the room over the kitchen.

  "That is Toby's room," said Pomp. "Stay here, Cudjo, while I give him acall."

  "Stay yuself," said Cudjo, "and lef dis chil' go. Me know Toby; youdon't."

  So Pomp remained on the watch while Cudjo climbed the tree by which Pennhad descended, scrambled up over the shed-roof, reached the window,opened it, and thrust in his head.

  Toby, who was just going to bed, heard the movement, saw the frightfulapparition, and with a shriek dove under the bed-clothes, where he layin an agony of fear, completely hidden from sight, while Cudjo, grinningmaliciously, climbed into the room.

  "See hyar, ye fool! none ob dat! none ob your playin' possum wid me!"said the visitor, rolling Toby over, while Toby held the clothes tighterand tighter, as if to show a lock of wool or the tip of an ear wouldhave been fatal. "Me's Cudjo! don't ye know Cudjo? Me come for degemman's clo'es!"

  "Hey? dat you, Cudjo?" said Toby, venturing at length to peep out."Wha--wha--what de debil you want hyar?"

  "De gemman sent me. Dis yer letter's for your massy."

  "De gemman?" cried Toby, jumping up. "Not Mass' Penn? not Mass'Hapgood?"

  Immense was his astonishment on being assured that Penn was alive,recovering, and in need of garments. Carl, who had been awakened in thenext room by the noise, now came in to see what was the matter. Herecognized Penn's handwriting on the note, and immediately hastened withit to Virginia's room. A minute after she was reading it to her fatherat his bedside. It was written with a pencil on a leaf torn from alittle blank book in which Pomp kept a sort of diary; but never hadgilt-edged or perfumed billet afforded the blind old minister and hisdaughter such unalloyed delight.

  It was long past midnight when Pomp and Cudjo returned to the cave,bringing with them not only Penn's garments, but a goodly stock ofprovisions, which Cudjo had hinted to Toby would be acceptable, and,more precious still, a letter from Mr. Villars, written by hisdaughter's own hand.

  Penn now began to sit up a little every day. Gloomy as the cave was, itwas not an unwholesome abode even for an invalid. The atmosphere waspure, cool, and bracing; the temperature uniform. Nor did Penn sufferinconvenience from dampness; though often, in the deep stillness of thenight, he could hear the far-off, faint, and melancholy murmur ofdropping water in the hollow recesses of the cavern beyond.

  One day, as soon as he was well enough for the undertaking, Pomp orderedCudjo to light torches and show them the hidden wonders of hishabitation. Cudjo was delighted with the honor. He ran on before, wavingthe flaring pine knots over his head, and shouting.

  Penn's astonishment was profound. Keen as had been his curiosity as towhat was beyond the shadowy walls the fire dimly revealed, he had formedno conception of the extent and sublimity of the various galleries,chambers, glittering vaults, and falling waters, embosomed there in themountain.

  "Dis yer all my own house!" Cudjo kept repeating, with fantasticgrimaces of satisfaction. "Me found him all my own self. Nobody war eberhyar afore me; Pomp am de next; and you's de on'y white man eber seendis yer cave."

  It grew light as they proceeded, Cudjo's torch paled, and the waters ofa subterranean stream they were following caught gleams of thestruggling day from another opening beyond. Climbing over fragments ofhuge tumbled rocks, and up an earthy bank, Penn found himself in thebottom of an immense chasm. It had apparently been formed by the sinkingdown of the roof of the cave, with a tremendous superincumbent weight offorest trees. There, on an island, so to speak, in the midst of thesubterranean darkness, they were growing still, their lofty tops barelyreaching the level of the mountain above.

  "It was out of this sink I saw the wild beast climbing, that turned outto be Cudjo," said Pomp.

  "Dat ar am de tree," said Cudjo. "No oder way but dat ar to get up outob dis yer hole."

  "What a terrible place!" said Penn, little thinking at the time how muchmore terrible it was soon to become as a scene of deadly human conflict.

  Beyond the chasm the stream flowed on into still more remote parts ofthe cave. But Penn had seen enough for one day, and the torch-bearingCudjo guided them back to the spot from which they had started.

  Penn had now completely won the confidence of the blacks, who no longerplaced any restrictions on his movements. It had been their originalpurpose never to suffer him to leave the cave without being blindfolded.But now, having shown him one opening, they freely permitted him to passout by the other. This was that by which he had been brought in, andwhich was used by the blacks themselves on all ordinary occasions. Itwas a mere fissure in the mountain, hidden from external view bythickets. Above rose steep ledges of rocks, thickly covered with earthand bushes. Below yawned an immense ravine, far down in the cool, darkdepths of which a little streamlet flowed.

  Pomp piloted his guest through the thickets, and along a narrow shelf,from which the ascent to the barren ledges was easy. Upon these they satdown. It was a beautiful April day. This was Penn's first visit to theupper world since he was brought to the cave. The scene filled him withrapture; the loveliness of earth and sky intoxicated him. Here he wasamong the rugged ranges of the Cumberland Mountains, in the heart ofTennessee. On either hand they rolled away in tremendous billows offorest-crowned rocks. The ravines in their sides opened into littlevalleys, and these spread out into a broad and magnificent intervale,checkered with farms, streaked with roads, and dotted with dwellings.Spring seemed to have come in a night. It was chill March weather whenPenn left the world, which was now warm with sweet south winds, andgreen with April verdure.

 
"How beautiful, how beautiful!" said he, receiving, with thesusceptibility of a convalescent, the exquisite impression made upon thesenses by every sight and sound and odor. "O! and to think that all thisdivine loveliness is marred by the passions of men! Up here, what glory,what peace! Down yonder, what hatred, violence, and sin! No wonder,Pomp, you love the mountains so!"

  "It is doubtful if they leave the mountains in peace much longer," saidPomp. He had heard the night before that fighting had begun atCharleston, and the news had stirred his soul. "The country is all alivewith excitement, and the waves of its fury will reach us here beforelong. Take this glass, sir: you can see soldiers marching through thestreets."

  "They are marching past my school-house!" said Penn. He became verythoughtful. He knew that they were soldiers recruited in the cause ofrebellion, although Tennessee had not yet seceded,--although the peoplehad voted in February against secession: a dishonest governor, and adishonest legislature, aided by reckless demagogues everywhere, beingresolved upon precipitating the state into revolution, by fraud andforce,--if not with the consent of the people, then without it. "I hadhoped the storm would soon blow over, and that it would be safe for meto go peaceably about my business."

  "The storm," said Pomp, his soul dilating, his features kindling with awild joy, "is hardly begun yet! The great problem of this age, in thiscountry, is going to be solved in blood! This continent is going toshake with such a convulsion as was never before. It is going to shaketill the last chain of the slave is shaken off, and the sin is punished,and God says, 'It is enough!'"

  He spoke with such thrilling earnestness that Penn regarded him inastonishment.

  "What makes you think so, Pomp?"

  "That I can't tell. The feeling rises up here,"--the negro laid his handupon his massive chest,--"and that is all I know. It is strong as mylife--it fills and burns me like fire! The day of deliverance for myrace is at hand. That is the meaning of those soldiers down there,arming for they know not what."