Captain Forsyth: A Letter

Moon stuck….

The ongoing letter that Henry writes to his brother Clarance, which is now addressed to his wife.

Dear Abigail,

I’ve scribbled a few notes as we have gone along, I hope these find you.

The chamber we found ourselves in was vast. Stalactites handing down to a rock-strewn floor.

There were 2 exits one which appeared to go up and the other down. Knowing that the rope bridge we had seen was well below us and that whoever had the survived the crash of Clarance’s ship had gone down, so that was the only logically way to go.

We felt a little heavier down here, but still incredibly light, maybe half of our true weight on earth.

We headed down and into another cavern blanketed with the glow fungus. I spotted those strange insect-like rats moving about, but they avoid us. Again, there was choice between going up or down through a fissure. We continued down.

The cavern we came too was dark, but thankfully Wilhelm has a lantern which he lit. A bright reflection came back from one part of cave. We entered and found the source of this reflection. It is a glass like mineral vein, we could spot of red further within it. Sadly, in the limited light I could not make out what it was, humble quartz or huge diamond or something in between.

My curiosity was peaked. Why had Clarence bought a geologist with him? What did he know and how?

Yet again exits up or down and again we descended.

Another cavern, with only one way out.

We have speculated on the formation of these vast chambers. They are mainly circular in shape. I have determined that they are not the result of water erosion, like say much of the Blue John cave system in the county of Derbyshire, or the better-known sections of Chedder gorge.

Rather we speculate and I confess with really little knowledge, that these may have been created by gas bubbles eons ago, perhaps when the moon was forming and cooling.

The next chamber was level, more illuminating fungus and moon rats running amok. Such was density and smell of the latter that we suspected a nest. While they avoid us, we suspected that should we stumble upon a nest, they would defend it. We therefore proceeded cautiously and in single file to reduce the possibility of such an encounter.

I should explain that the glowing fungus grows to about shin height, is like a blanket, so it hides the scurrying creatures from us. We hear them more than see them. It’s also quite hard work wading through this fungus stuff, a bit like wading through a corn field.

An exit led us to another chamber, which had clearly experienced a major rock fall. It was difficult to navigate and pick our way over and around, but we did so without incident, to an exit on the other side and proceeded to the next chamber.

Again, a carpet of glowing fungus, little else of interest but again an exit on the other side, this time higher up that was going to require a climb.

As we set out across the cavern floor, the fungus again making it hard going, I instinctively felt something was wrong underfoot. So apparently did Wilhelm who also stopped dead in his tracks.

Toe poking ahead gave us to understand there a sharp fall off. In short, a pit that we could have fallen into. The fungus had grown out of there to the same height as the rest, so the danger was hidden. It was the slightest of misalignment in these flowers that got my attention.

Wilhelm too. Thankfully we were alert enough to avoid this peril.

For the first time we had to climb to get out. I volunteered to go first with rope. I’m the best climber, not by much and no expert by any means, but it gives the others a much better chance of ascent if I can deploy a rope.

Another passage leading another chamber. More fallen rock to navigate. These chambers are huge. While I suspect we haven’t gone many miles, it has all been on difficult terrain. We have to maintain our concentration.

I should ask Grant, he has a watch and some kind of compass.

We’d done as much as we could. We were getting tired and it was time to rest, eat and sleep.

I’ve speculated a little on this crazy mass of chambers. They are connected by these kind tunnels that seem to replicate the main chambers, or by fissures that have opened up.

The latter are obvious. Rock falls caused by time and gravity, little as it is, who knows how long it’s had to do its work.

The best I can up with is that maybe some of these gas bubbles had weak spots that they expanded through.

We slept without a watch, there didn’t seem any need and we were all very tired. This type of terrain and concentration takes a lot out one, as I can testify.

The next ‘day’, who knows what night and day are anymore, we entered a large cavern.

With the option of exits requiring a climb or down, we opted for our usual approach. Except when looked down into the dark, with Wilhelms lantern, something was reflecting on the floor that glistened.

Hartwell, as sharp as ever, noted something moving on the ceiling.

When Wilhelm played his light up there, it was clear this was chamber full of bats.

We’d already encountered these; we knew they would attack if woken and it was a long way to the only exit we could see across the cavern. That was down and again the way we wanted to go. But we felt trying cross this chamber was very high risk.

We backtracked to the climb which was the other way out of the huge chamber we were in.

Again, I made the climb with rope and secured a way up for the rest of the party.

We passed through the tunnel and to our surprise it came out looking above a lake filled chamber! The illumination was a bit dim, with only fungi on the side in a limited amount, but good enough to our well-adjusted eyes.

There was an exit on the other side, water slowing appearing to disappear through a cave. But how deep and where did it lead and would we have any control if we went that way?

Hartwell stepped forward to test the waters. Modesty requires me to omit a small detail.

He climbed easily down, not really needing the rope provided.

He waded out to the point of needing to swim, felt a current, then made his way back.

He’d refilled our canteens, the moment he tasted the water.

He was shaking with cold and we had to haul him up with the rope. It took a while for him get warm and we used the opportunity to rest. We determined that that it was not practical to essay the water, aside the unknown position we would find ourselves, the water would probably ruin our equipment and weapons.

After that we were faced with two options. We either tried to essay the bat infested cave, or went a very long back, I thought in the order of nearly a day, to the nearest alternative branch that we hadn’t explored.

We rested again, climbed down and returned to the bat cave. Grant had a bit of a rush of blood to the head and took the lead. He let go of the rope part way down careered down and his momentum carried across the slick bat guano, which is what we seen glistening.

The idiot was hollering like crazy. Americans don’t seem to have much self-control, which is of course, instinctive to us British. (Or at least this one doesn’t.)

Wilheim climbed down and slid into a similar position, although he kept his feet.

It was clear that we could not traverse this cavern. We needed to get people out of there in case the bats woke up and attacked, which Grant seemed to be doing his best to invoke. Eventually we did this, but Grant in particular wanted to return to the lake to clean up.

We did so, filling water bottles in advance.

Then Grant realised had lost his water bottle in his slide down into the bat dung.

It was a very minor point that would have made no impact if we had been on campaign for example, but down here water was at a premium. I suspect there was also consensus that none of us really wanted to share a canteen with Grant.

We returned to the bat cave, spotted the errant bottle, in a pile of bat poo and were able to retrieve it without incident. Grant felt it unusable, given that it was heavily coated in a very unpleasant substance.

We returned yet again the lake cavern, once again I made the climb. Grant got to clean his canteen and once again we drank and refilled before he did.

Wilhelm pulled me aside; he is concerned that Grant is slowing us down. Certainly, he’d become rather vocal and annoying. It was clear that was maybe a little of friction between the two inventors.

I feel we are all a little stressed. Earlier, the first time we rested I confess I had moment when I could have been overwhelmed by it all, fearing the worst for Clarence, but simply humming the national anthem, reminded me what is to be British!

I assured my dear friend Wilhelm that I would a keen watch for any skullduggery, but Grant is our only hope of getting out of here. I feel he is being difficult, or perhaps stressed, or just the worse of American. I also allow he’s not used to these kinds of circumstances. Unlike us three average British citizens, who regularly face the unknown with our natural stoicism.

We climbed back down and returned to the bat cave, but with a very different idea. The great professor Wilhelm simply transported us across. Grant was mightily impressed, but still went on a bit.

In the next chamber the more obvious passage out led us to another lake. A waterfall cascaded from one side. We speculated that this could have been the overflow from the previous lake chamber. The outflow from this was clearly underwater, so we declared it a dead end.

For some time now, Wilhelm has been scratching marks on all the tunnel entries and exits. So, we should have no trouble retracting our steps. Then again, I have my writing bureau, so have been able to take notes so sorts, Grant seems to have been plotting the path and if all else fails, as you know my dear Abby Abi I can rely on my excellent memory.

Forestalled at the lake, not a comment I believe I’ve ever made before, we returned to the previous chamber and exited by the less promising looking fissure.

We found another cavern with a mineral vein in it. I wonder if that is why the Russians have returned repeatedly. Is there some value in this? The rats around us are now almost incidental.

Only one exit, which bought us again to a cavern with the edible fungus growing in it.

We ignored a fissure and carried on in what we though the right direction, but who can tell. We’ve been turned around so many times, heaven knows how far we have really descended.

This passage overlooked another cavern with a giant field of fungus. It’s hard to explain the scale of this strange system.

Exhaustion was again entering our veins. We stopped in the next passage and again believing there was nothing else and no danger down here fell asleep. How foolish of me to neglect my basic military instincts.

I was awoken by the sound of a single pistol shot. Indeed, it rang and echoed in the tunnel, almost deafening us all completely. I just caught the sight of one these giant caterpillar monstrosities with its head half blown away flailing at the edge of the tunnel before falling away to the cavern below. Hartwell’s pistol had smoke still tailing from the barrel. Some instinct had caused him to wake. He’d drawn and fired in one fluid motion all the more remarkable from lying in his sleep.

We know from previous encounters that these beasts are not the easiest to kill, it was on the sleeping Grant and would have surely done for him and it not been for Hartwell’s gallant intervention. So, this was the most remarkable shot in the circumstances.

In response we now posted watches and determined to sleep a little later by way of compensation. Wilhelm on first watch spotted any number of caterpillars in amongst the fungi in the cavern below us, which we’d need to traverse next.

I took middle watch. While I could see a couple of the beasts, I couldn’t see the others that Wilhelm tried to point out. Their appearance from afar is one of camouflage, they blend rather well with the fungus.

Although I tried to point out the creatures, when I handed over watch to Hartwell, he confessed he couldn’t see one.

However, we got to rest and then another cold breakfast. I think I may have to indulge in some devilled kidneys when I get back to the club.

We had some discussion about how to deal with the caterpillar infested cavern.

We could shoot most, if not all of the threat from our vantage point. We could wade across as usual and deal with threat as it arose. But the option we choose was to teleport across.

The next cavern had the grey edible mushrooms we’d encountered before. It’s I may say at best, an acquired taste, which may take some time, but gave us an opportunity to eat and replenish food stocks.

Worryingly we are starting to see evidence of corrosion on our boots and if you pardon the observation on gaters too. We know this glowing fungus has acidic properties and it’s clearly taking its toll. We pressed on to the next cavern.

As we waded through yet another chamber of glowing fungus, a giant centipede erupted out of the large glow mushrooms in front of us. We gather that the natural prey of these things is the rats, but they’ve certainly been interested in the newly presented human alternative.

We drew and fired, but not fast or effective enough before the thing had grabbed Grant in its giant mandibles and was squeeing the life out of him. At which point Hartwell put a huge hole in the thing and it was done for.

Thankfully were able to bring Grant round, once again Hartwell had saved him by means of some excellent shooting, but it was a close-run thing.

We reached the next passage and paused for break. We took what we regard to be lunch, but our next cavern is another bat filled one.

We have to find a way out of this indeterminable labyrinth soon. Blundering around these caverns, is just reducing our capacity. I believe it would take at least two days just to return to the original cavern and maybe more going uphill, before we even consider all the hazards we’ve managed to overcome.

I rather feel like we are trapped in that French writer’s novel, ‘Voyage au centre de la Terre’, published what 25 to 30 years ago? Now I’m starting to question if it was fiction, or did he know something? What was his name, Verde, or Verne, something like that.

I hope for better news, but given our distance I doubt it will be soon. Hope remains.

Henry.