Struggling to my feet, I carefully checked to see nothing was broken, or strained. 15 feet of fall was the last piece to get free of the vines and roots, to gain the floor of this massive underground chamber.
This place was truly huge. Light filtered in from a number of high vantages, but I could see that this place got little light during the day in general. Deep shadows remained. Day came late and left early. Few leaves on the vines at this level, lots of decomposing humus with its dust laying thick over what seemed to be a flat rock floor.
But there were game trails here, too, so this meant a way out other than the long drop I had taken. That was promising - I wasn't really prepared to spend the night.
Moving down the trail toward the lighter end, it was relatively easy moving. Too often a trail height was governed by the size of the animal, but here nothing really grew, so it was more how to get out of here or move to where there was actual food.
As I moved, the trail thinned, but more because the dust had settled to dried mud and then places where it had been washed away from the underlying rock as there had been some sort of water movement through here. That was interesting, since as the natural canyon widened out the floor became more clear, meaning it collected water during rains. The roots and rocks on the walls showed definite high-water marks, which were now even with my head as I continued on this now much clearer path.
The roots and vines now receded to the edges of the floor, and I could see where they were now just barely meeting the floor. Pausing for a sip of water from my canteen, I got moving again. Not too much time left in this day. Or were those clouds gathering?
The canyon was not straight, but kept widening. Boulders now augmented the sandstone floor, as fallen from above or separated from the high walls. As I turned yet another corner, it became more obvious what this place was - and what I had come for.
As if illumined with a spotlight, a sitting Buddha-like figure was carved into solid rock in a larger clearing ahead. And of course, my camera didn't survive falling into this canyon.
It was truly massive. Cut from some natural rock formation, it was extremely unique. Half black, half white. Equal sides of color, where the sitting figure was to one site almost pure white alabaster and the other black onyx. Extremely rare rock formation. And as well, it seems to be embedded. The original rock might have been a meteorite, as it was embedded in the sandstone, having a definite demarcation in a near perfect circle around the front of the figure. How big the rock was couldn't be determined, since the carving ended at the wall. The sides of the original stone ran up the wall, almost as a halo - half white, half black - above and behind the figure's head.
Inscriptions ran around the base, mostly worn by the water action, but the area was remarkably clean. The water would seem to flood this area and then drain rapidly as the only explanation of how this floor was kept clean and polished. The only explanation which came to mind, anyway.
I sat to contemplate this. Pulling out my notes from a side pocket, I checked the description of what I was looking for. This matched. However, the GPS wasn't working here. It wouldn't settle on a definite location. So much for being rescued. But what I was seeing matched the manuscript's description.
The figure looked serene, calm, reflective.
But something was rather odd about it. Even though the vines came down from the roof and were growing about, those which were on the white side of the figure were blossoming. Bees circled, coming and going to get their nectar. On the black side, all the vines were black and withered where they tried to cross the boundary of sandstone or had fallen from a higher reach. Similarly, the butterflies and other insects seemed to avoid the dark side and moved away from that boundary where they ventured too close.
Life and death, it hit me. Something in this statue - or the rock it came from - was emanating a vibrant, positive life-force (or at least being conducive) while the other was emanating death and decay.
The same was happening at the base of the statue. Where leaves had fallen on to the black side, they were shriveled. The other side had dead leaves, these were covered in green ones as well. I couldn't say that a leaf falling on the black half of that statue would shrivel instantly, but it sure looked that way.
Stepping forward gave me a new sensation. Once I crossed from the sandstone to the rock, it had an interesting affect. That part of my body on the black side (my right) became numb, or at least lost feeling. My left side was normal and at ease. Turning around created the opposite reaction, only this time my heart began pumping irregularly - since it was on the left side of the body. I quickly moved over to the white half of the stone and felt a wave of relief, almost bliss. Too relaxed, like I could stay here forever, completely at peace. As my eyes drooped, I caught myself and moved back to the sandstone.
Now I quickly recovered back to normal. Or it seemed that way. Pulse was regular, breathing normal.
Either side of that figure was a trap. What caused it, I had no way of knowing. Again, I though of the meteorite theory.
How they had carved that statue - which just sat in reflection - I had no clue. The face had a wispy smile and both sides mirrored the other, the hands meeting in a sudra in front of the chest.
The canyon seemed to suddenly darken. While it had been getting more overcast as I came in, it was obvious that I had lost track of the weather and all time. The wind picked up and I could hear it winding through the canyon, swirling the leaves and dust in an increasing flow of debris through the air.
Thunder, which had been working in the background with low rumbles, suddenly made itself vividly apparent when it started loudly echoing off the high canyon walls. The bare aspect of the area surrounding this statue suddenly became clear. To each side of the seated figure, the canyon moved away flatly. Real vertical sides. I saw that there was a reason for the sparse vegetation on the canyon floor - it was a flash flood outlet.
As if on cue, the rain started - and then picked up as a torrential downpour. With no cover to be had other than my hat (which quickly became a floppy mess obscuring my vision even more), I headed quickly back up the canyon, hoping to get above the high-water mark I had started out at. Unfortunately, this was a quarter-mile or so back, and all uphill.
Breaking into a trot, I worked to keep the stinging rain out of my eyes, even as the thunder increases and lightning flashed above the canyon walls. Moving to one side, as I traveled, I looked for any vines which might be hanging down far enough to reach and hold onto in case the water started pouring in.
There was already a rivulet forming in the center of the floor and quickly spreading to each side. I paused to study it and find the speed of flow - to see how fast it was gaining in size.
Then I heard it. And felt it. A low rumble which sounded like a distant herd in flight. Upstream. Where I was headed.
I didn't wait to see it - reversing, my trot became a flat out run, hat hanging off by it's drawstring and bouncing along with my pack as I raced back down, trying to keep next to the canyon wall while jumping and avoiding boulders and rocks in my path. The water quickly became over my ankles, which made forward travel even more difficult and dangerous.
Tripping and falling for the third time, I raised my face out of the muddy water in time to see the wall of water come at me. Glancing down stream, I saw the white side of seated figure again, not too far now. That was my only hope.
It was a flat-out race of me against that wall of water.
Quickly, ankle high became knee-high and climbing fast. I tried to remember all the boulders I had avoided on the way up and mostly missed them all. The barked shins I was enduring didn't matter as much as reaching that statue.
Almost there, the water receded for a split-second as my hands touched the statue. I turned that forward sprint to an upward one as the wave crashed over me and flattened me half-way up that statue.
I knew I couldn't stop climbing, even as the tide was trying to rip me off the side of that figure. The next fight was also for air as water quickly rose above my head and bore my backpack up with it...