“Quick, Ranni, tell us everything!” said Jack.
“We saw some of the Folk of the Secret Mountain!” said Ranni. “They certainly do look queer. It is just as Mafumu’s uncle said — they have flaming red hair and beards and their skins are a funny yellow. I couldn’t see if their eyes were green. They were dressed in flowing robes of all colours, and they wore turbans that showed their red hair.”
“Golly!” said Mike, his eyes wide with excitement. “Go on — what happened?”
“The queerest thing happened,” said Ranni. “I hardly know if I believe it or not. Well — let me tell you. As we lay there, watching these people talking together in their funny harsh voices, we noticed that they were near a very curious kind of rock.”
“What sort of rock?” asked Pilescu.
“It was an enormous rock,” said Ranni. “It was strange because it was much smaller at the bottom than at the top, so that it looked almost as if it must fall over. Well, as we watched, one of the Mountain Folk went up to the rock and pushed hard against it.”
“Why, he couldn’t surely move an enormous rock!” cried Mike.
“That’s what I thought,” said Ranni. “But that rock must be one of these curious balancing rocks that can be pivoted, or swung-round, at a touch, no matter how big they are. There are just a few known in the world, and this is another.”
“What happened when the rock swung round?” asked Pilescu.
“It not only swung round, it slid to one side,” said Ranni. “Just like the rock in the story of Ali Baba that you told me! And behind it was a great door in the mountain-side studded with shining knobs that glittered in the sun!”
Everyone stared at Ranni in silence, too excited to speak. So that was the way into the mountain! They had stumbled on it quite by accident.
“Go on,” whispered Peggy at last.
“I couldn’t see how the great doorway was opened,” said Ranni. “It seemed to slide to one side, very quietly — but whether it was opened from the outside or the inside I really don’t know. Then the rock rolled back into place again, and swung back into position with that terrific roaring, groaning sound you heard.”
“And did the people go into the mountain?” asked Mike.
“They did,” answered Ranni, “We saw no more of them.”
Everyone sat silent for a while, thinking of the queer entrance to the Secret Mountain. So that was what Mafumu’s uncle had meant when he said that to get into the mountain one had to walk through rock!
“Well — what are we going to do?” said Jack. “We know the way in — but I wonder how that great studded door is opened! Oh, Ranni — can we try to get in tonight?”
“We’d better,” said Ranni. “I will try by myself and see what happens. You can all find good hiding-places nearby and watch. I’ll take my gun, you may be sure!”
The children could hardly wait for the sudden nightfall to come. They found themselves good hiding-places — though Jack and Mafumu found the best. Theirs was up a big tree not far from the mountain entrance. Mafumu found it, of course, and helped Jack up there. The others were behind or in the middle of thick bushes.
When the stars hung brightly, and a crescent moon shone in the sky, Ranni crept forward to the strange rock, whose black shadow was enormous in the night. Everyone watched, hardly daring to breathe in case anything happened to Ranni.
Big Ranni stepped quietly up to the rock. He thought he knew exactly where to heave, for he had seen one of the Mountain Folk move the rock and had noted the exact place. But it was difficult to find it at night.
Ranni shoved and pushed. He pressed against the rock and heaved with all his might. Nothing happened. He stopped and mopped his hot forehead, wondering which was the right place to press against.
He tried again and again — and just as he was giving up something happened. He pushed at the right place quite by accident! With a groaning roar the enormous rock swung slowly round and then slid back. The noise it made was terrific. Ranni sprang back into the shadows, afraid that a hundred Mountain Folk might come rushing out at him.
The studded door shone in the moonlight. It did not open. It stood there; big and solid, strange and silent, barring the way. Nobody came. Nobody shouted to see who had swung back the rock. Only the night-sounds came on the air, and the sound of the distant waterfall.
Everyone waited, trembling with excitement. Jack nearly fell out of his tree, he shivered so much with wonder and expectation. But absolutely nothing happened. The rock remained where it was, the door shone behind.
“Ranni! Maybe the Mountain Folk haven’t heard the noise!” whispered Pilescu. “Go and try the door.”
Ranni crept forward again, keeping to the deep-black shadows. Once or twice the moonlight glinted on the gun he held in his hand. Ranni was taking no chances!
The others watched him from their hiding-places. He went right up to the door. He felt over it with his hand. He pushed gently against it. He tried to slide it to one side. He tried all the studs and knobs to see if by chance any of them opened the great door. But no matter what he did, the door remained shut.
“Let us come and see,” whispered Mike to Pilescu. The boy felt that he could not keep still any longer. Pilescu was also longing to go to the mountain door, so he, Mike, Paul, and the two girls crept forward in the shadows.
Jack wanted to come too — and began to climb carefully down the tree, getting caught in a great creeper as he did so. Mafumu tried to untangle him, but the more he tried, the more mixed-up poor Jack got.
And then, just as Jack was almost untangled, there came a grinding, grating roar once more — and the enormous rock slid along in front of the great door and swung round slowly into its place.
Behind it, caught between the rock and the door, was everyone except Mafumu and Jack! The girls, Mike, Paul, Ranni and Pilescu were in the narrow passage between.
Ranni tried to stop the rock from sliding back into place, but once started on its way nothing would stop the enormously heavy rock. No one could escape, either, for there was no time to slip out of the trap.
Jack and Mafumu stared towards the rock in the greatest dismay. Jack leapt down from the tree, almost breaking his ankle, and ran towards the mountain.
“Are you safe, are you safe!” he shouted.
But there was no answer. The swinging rock shut the sound of voices away. Jack beat on the rock, he tried to heave it as he had seen Ranni do, and Mafumu did the same. But neither boy could find the secret balance of the rock, and it stayed where it was, colossal in the moonlight, towering above them as they shouted and hammered on it.
And then, behind the rock, the great door slid back! Jack and Mafumu heard it, and fell silent, listening. What was happening?
What indeed? When the door slid back, the little company in front of it stared with wide eyes into a great hall-like cave. It was lighted by glowing lamps, and a wide flight of steps led downwards for a little way. Up these steps came the Folk of the Secret Mountain, dressed in their flowing robes, and carrying strange yellow wands which glittered from top to bottom.
The leader was a very tall man with a bright red beard and gleaming eyes. He spoke to Ranni in language rather like that used by Mafumu. Ranni understood some of it.
“He wants us to follow him,” Ranni said to Pilescu. “Got your gun, Pilescu?”
“Yes,” said the big Baronian. “But it’s no use using it, Ranni. There are too many of them. Put your gun away for the moment, and we’ll see what happens. We are in a nice mess now. Only Jack and Mafumu are safe!”
That was a strange journey into the heart of the mountain. Big carved lamps glowed all the way, lighting up enormous flights of steps, great walls, and high rocky ceilings.
“The mountain is full of hollows which these people have made into halls and rooms,” said Ranni in a low voice to Pilescu. “Isn’t it amazing? Look at those great pictures drawn in colour on the walls! They are strange but very beautiful.”
The children gazed in wonder at the great coloured pictures on the rocky walls of the mountain-caves. Lamps were set cleverly to light up the pictures so that the men and animals in them seemed almost alive. The Secret Mountain was indeed a marvellous place!
At last the long journey through the heart of the mountain came to an end. The little party found themselves in a queer room, whose rocky ceiling rose too high for them to make out by the light of their lamp. Shining stones were set into the walls, and these glittered like stars in the lamplight.
A rough platform was at one end of the room. On it were piled heaps of wonderful rugs, beautifully woven, and marvellously patterned in all the brightest colours imaginable. The children sat down on them, tired out.
Pitchers of ice-cold water stood on a stone table. Everyone drank deep. Flat cakes lay on a shallow dish beside the pitchers. Mike tasted one. It was sweet and dry, quite pleasant to eat. Everyone made a meal, wondering what was going to happen.
The door to their strange room was made of strong wood and had been fastened on the outside. There was nothing to do but wait. The Mountain Folk had left them quite alone in the heart of their queer home.
“We’d better get some rest,” said Ranni, and he covered up the three children with the rugs. “I don’t know what to wish about Jack. I’m glad he’s not caught — and yet I wish we were all here together.”
“Perhaps Jack and Mafumu will find some way of rescuing us,” said Peggy hopefully.
Ranni laughed shortly. “It’s no good hoping that, Peggy! If he tries to get through the rock entrance, and through that big studded door, he will just find himself a prisoner!”
“Do you suppose we’ll see Mummy and Daddy?” asked Nora suddenly. “They must be somewhere in this mountain too.”
“Yes — that’s quite likely,” said Pilescu thoughtfully. “Ranni, I’ll keep guard for the first half of the night. You go to sleep with the others now.”
In spite of all the tremendous excitement of the day the three children were soon asleep on the soft rugs. Ranni did not sleep at first, but at last he dozed off, sitting half upright in case Pilescu needed him quickly.
But the night passed away silently and no one came to disturb them in their cell-like room. The lamp burned steadily, giving a soft light to the curious, high-roofed room. It burned until the day — and even then it still lit the room, for no daylight, no sunlight ever entered the heart of the Secret Mountain.