The Drustone

Chapter Five. A Grave?

Chapter Five 

A Grave? 

Initially the descent down the roughly carved steps of the other tunnel was steep, but at the bottom, where the passage made a curve to the right, the slope eased. Rev, who had become obsessed with the compass, informed them that they were now travelling due east. Earlier he had ascertained that the blocked route led in a westerly direction.  

As they progressed to lower levels the humidity increased and the echoing sounds of their boots were accompanied by the drip, drip of water percolating through the limestone. The surface of the rocks became soapy to the touch, and there was danger of another fall. The boys proceeded cautiously along the seemingly never- ending tunnel. 

"How much further can it be?" said a weary Rev. "We seem to have been going for hours." 

"Two hours to be precise," said P.C., "but I think the end is in sight. I can see light." 

Just ahead lay an underground cavern brilliantly illuminated by sunlight streaming in through a sinkhole far above their heads. One glance was enough for Henry. 

"Stop. We can't go in there." 

"Why on earth not?' 

"It's a burial chamber, just like in King Solomon's Mines." 

"What do you mean?" 

"You see those big white pillars on the floor. There's bodies inside them." 

"Don't be daft, Henry," said  P.C. 

"Oh yes there is. What they used to do in olden days was put bodies in places like this; stand them up under the dripping water, and let them harden. They always buried their kings like this, and set traps in the tomb so that they wouldn't be disturbed." 

"Henry, I think you read too many of those fantasy comics," said Rev," and the trouble is you believe everything you read. Those pillars as you call them are known as stalactites, and those hanging from the roof of the cavern are stalagmites... or maybe the other way round. What happens is the water passing through the rocks dissolves some of the stone. When the water reaches the surface, it evaporates and leaves the stone behind." 

"Well why should we believe everything you read, Rev," said Henry. "Just look at those stalathingies, aren't they big enough to fit a body." 

"He could be right," muttered P.C. 

"Good grief, P.C. Don't tell me you're going to start believing Henry. Look if you're nervous we can swap places and I'll lead the way." 

"No need. Let's move on. It's getting late." 

If it hadn't been for the natural light they probably wouldn't have been able to goad Henry through the chamber. As it was, he made progress difficult by insisting on staying as far away as possible from suspected corpses. Compounding their problems were the innumerable stalathingies that hid the exit from the cavern. It took them almost thirty minutes to find it. 

The passage they now entered was well worn, straight and mercifully short. It led to the end of the trail. A sheet of rusted metal barred the way. There was no handle and the instinctive reaction was to knock and holler. 

"Hello. Hello. Anybody out there?" 

There was no answer. Badly bruised knuckles resulted. 

"Let's throw some rocks at it," suggested Henry. The clangourous sound of rock against metal was enough to waken the dead. Henry nervously looked back along the passage. There was no response. 

"Wait a minute," said P.C. "There's a small gap here on the edge between the metal and the rock. I should be able to fit my staff in there and pry it open a bit." 

Slowly, millimetre-by-millimetre, a gap large enough for eager fingers was created, and the boys were able to pull as one. With a screech of protest from the tortured metal the reluctant door opened towards them revealing a wall of ivy. Henry's razor sharp, boy-scout knife made short work of the clinging vine and soon they were able to step out into the welcome summer air. A spectacular view of the bay lay before them. 

"Now where are we?" asked Rev. 

"I know," said P.C. "We're at Bardsea. Look down there. On the right is the Old Mill Café, the public toilets are right in front of us, and Deganis' ice cream shack is over there." 

The sea front at Bardsea was very familiar to the boys, as they had spent many summer days here on the pebbled beach. The tunnel had emerged at the base of a cliff on which  perched the picturesque parish church, one of the churches they had seen from the circle. 

"Was there a connection between the tunnels and the stone circle?" Rev, despite himself, was starting to be intrigued. "Don't you think we should be starting back?" he said. 

"Not through the tunnels!!" 

"Scared Henry," said P.C. with a laugh. 

"A bit. But just think about it. We mightn't be able to find our way through the maze in the caverns." 

"You're right. But not to worry, I know a road from Bardsea back up to the moor, quite close to where we left our bikes. How about we go for a pee first and maybe then an ice cream?" 

"I'm bursting too," said Henry. 

So it was decided. Their adventure would end with an uphill two-mile hike and a less arduous bike ride home. But first there was business to attend to. Their secret door had to be concealed, nature's call obeyed, and the appetite for vanilla appeased.