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- Генри Хаггард
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- Копи царя Соломона
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- Стр. 147/166
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The
lamp
began
to
burn
dim
.
The
fat
was
nearly
exhausted
.
"
Quatermain
,
"
said
Sir
Henry
,
"
what
is
the
time
--
your
watch
goes
?
"
I
drew
it
out
,
and
looked
at
it
.
It
was
six
o'clock
;
we
had
entered
the
cave
at
eleven
.
"
Infadoos
will
miss
us
,
"
I
suggested
.
"
If
we
do
not
return
to-night
he
will
search
for
us
in
the
morning
,
Curtis
.
"
"
He
may
search
in
vain
.
He
does
not
know
the
secret
of
the
door
,
nor
even
where
it
is
.
No
living
person
knew
it
yesterday
,
except
Gagool
.
To-day
no
one
knows
it
.
Even
if
he
found
the
door
he
could
not
break
it
down
.
All
the
Kukuana
army
could
not
break
through
five
feet
of
living
rock
.
My
friends
,
I
see
nothing
for
it
but
to
bow
ourselves
to
the
will
of
the
Almighty
.
The
search
for
treasure
has
brought
many
to
a
bad
end
;
we
shall
go
to
swell
their
number
.
"
The
lamp
grew
dimmer
yet
.
Presently
it
flared
up
and
showed
the
whole
scene
in
strong
relief
,
the
great
mass
of
white
tusks
,
the
boxes
of
gold
,
the
corpse
of
the
poor
Foulata
stretched
before
them
,
the
goat-skin
full
of
treasure
,
the
dim
glimmer
of
the
diamonds
,
and
the
wild
,
wan
faces
of
us
three
white
men
seated
there
awaiting
death
by
starvation
.
Then
the
flame
sank
and
expired
.
I
can
give
no
adequate
description
of
the
horrors
of
the
night
which
followed
.
Mercifully
they
were
to
some
extent
mitigated
by
sleep
,
for
even
in
such
a
position
as
ours
wearied
nature
will
sometimes
assert
itself
.
But
I
,
at
any
rate
,
found
it
impossible
to
sleep
much
.
Putting
aside
the
terrifying
thought
of
our
impending
doom
--
for
the
bravest
man
on
earth
might
well
quail
from
such
a
fate
as
awaited
us
,
and
I
never
made
any
pretensions
to
be
brave
--
the
silence
itself
was
too
great
to
allow
of
it
.
Reader
,
you
may
have
lain
awake
at
night
and
thought
the
quiet
oppressive
,
but
I
say
with
confidence
that
you
can
have
no
idea
what
a
vivid
,
tangible
thing
is
perfect
stillness
.
On
the
surface
of
the
earth
there
is
always
some
sound
or
motion
,
and
though
it
may
in
itself
be
imperceptible
,
yet
it
deadens
the
sharp
edge
of
absolute
silence
.
But
here
there
was
none
.
We
were
buried
in
the
bowels
of
a
huge
snow-clad
peak
.
Thousands
of
feet
above
us
the
fresh
air
rushed
over
the
white
snow
,
but
no
sound
of
it
reached
us
.
We
were
separated
by
a
long
tunnel
and
five
feet
of
rock
even
from
the
awful
chamber
of
the
Dead
;
and
the
dead
make
no
noise
.
Did
we
not
know
it
who
lay
by
poor
Foulata
's
side
?
The
crashing
of
all
the
artillery
of
earth
and
heaven
could
not
have
come
to
our
ears
in
our
living
tomb
.
We
were
cut
off
from
every
echo
of
the
world
--
we
were
as
men
already
in
the
grave
.
