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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"Allan Quatermain"

Suddenly it vanished, the
darkness became intense, and a familiar murmuring sound filled
the air. 'Underground again,' I said with a groan, holding up
the lamp. Yes, there was no doubt about it. I could just make
out the roof. The chasm had come to an end and the tunnel had
recommenced. And then there began another long, long night of
danger and horror. To describe all its incidents would be too
wearisome, so I will simply say that about midnight we struck
on a flat projecting rock in mid-stream and were as nearly as
possible overturned and drowned. However, at last we got off,
and went upon the uneven tenor of our way. And so the hours
passed till it was nearly three o'clock. Sir Henry, Good, and
Alphonse were asleep, utterly worn out; Umslopogaas was at the
bow with the pole, and I was steering, when I perceived that
the rate at which we were travelling had perceptibly increased.
Then, suddenly, I heard Umslopogaas make an exclamation, and
next second came a sound as of parting branches, and I became
aware that the canoe was being forced through hanging bushes
or creepers. Another minute, and the breath of sweet open air
fanned my face, and I felt that we had emerged from the tunnel
and were floating upon clear water.


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