Drome
A Weird-Scientific Serial
By John Martin Leahy
The Story So Far
Milton Rhodes and Bill Carter, following an "angel" and her ape-bat "demon" (which has killed Rhoda Dillingham on Mount Rainier), penetrate into the subterranean caverns beneath the mountain. There they are attacked by the ape-bat, which they slay, and they rescue the "angel" from being dragged down to her death by its death-struggles. In company with the "angel" and four of her companions from some underground city, they begin the descent to Drome.
Chapter 24
What Next?
For a mile or more, the way led amongst pillars and stalagmites. Oh, the wonders that we saw in that great cavern! The exigencies of space, however, will not permit me to dwell upon them. There is, I may remark, no deposition of sinter going on now; undoubtedly many centuries have rolled over this old globe since the drip ceased, perhaps thousands upon thousands of years. Who can say? How little can scientists ever know, even when their knowledge seems so great, of those dim lost ages of the earth!
"One thing that puzzles me," I remarked, "is that each of these Hypogeans has nothing but a canteen. So far as I can see, the whole party hasn't the makings of a lunch for a ladybug. Can it be that we have not far to go, after all?"
"I think, Bill, that we'll find the way a long one. My explanation is that, on starting for the bridge, they disencumbered themselves of the provision-supply (if they were not in camp) so that, of course, they could make greater speed. That the angel had a companion back there, we know. We know, too, that that companion—in all likelihood it was one of the girls—went for help."
"What on earth were they doing there, with the men off some place else?"
"I wish I could tell you, Bill. And what was the angel doing up in the Tamahnowis Rocks all by her lovely lonesome? I wish you could tell me that."
"I wish that I could. And that isn't the only thing that I wish I could tell you. What on earth are they doing here? And what at the Tamahnowis Rocks?"
"What, Bill, are we?"
"But women!" said I. "Our explorers don't take women along."
"Lewis and Clark took a woman along and took her papoose to boot. And this isn't our world, remember. Things may be very different here. Maybe, in this subterranean land, the lady is the boss."
"Where," I exclaimed, "isn't she the boss? You don't have to come down here to find a—what do you call it?—a gynecoeracy. Which reminds me of Saxe."
"What does Saxe say, sweet misogynist?"
"This, sweet gyneolator:
"Men, dying, make their wills,
But wives escape a work so sad;
Why should they make, the gentle dames,
What all their lives they've had?"
"Bravo!" cried Milton Rhodes.
And I saw the angel, who, with the older man, was leading the way, turn and give us a curious look.
