A Dweller on Two Planets is one of the most important texts of the 19th Century Atlantis canon. The book was ‘channeled‘ by Frederick S. Oliver. Oliver was born in Washington D.C. in 1866 and came to Yreka, California, with his parents when he was two years old. Yreka is just north of Mount Shasta, a huge dormant volcanic peak in Northern California.
Chapter I: Atlantis, Queen of the Wave
“Why not?” I asked myself, pausing amidst the snow on the mountain, high above the sea where the Storm King reigned supreme, even while summer reigned below. “Am I not an Atlan, a Poseidan, and is not that name synonymous with freedom, honor, and power? Is not this, my native land, the most glorious beneath the sun? Beneath Incal?” I questioned again: “Why not, indeed, strive to become one of the foremost in my proud country?”
“Poseid is the Queen of the Sea, and of the world, as all nations pay tribute to us in praise and commerce. To rule in Poseid is to rule over all the earth. Therefore, I will strive for this prize, and I will achieve it!” I cried aloud, raising my hands to the heavens, “And you, O pale, cold moon, bear witness to my resolve, and you too, glittering diamonds of the sky.”
If resolute effort could ensure success, I usually achieved whatever goal I set my mind to. So there, high above the ocean and the plains stretching westward 2,000 miles (3218.68 kilometers) to Caiphul, the Royal City, I made my vows. All around me lay the eternal snows, but I cared not. So filled with resolve to become a power in my native land, I scarcely noticed the cold, as frigid as the Arctic fields of the remote north.
Many obstacles lay ahead in the pursuit of my goal. What was I at that moment? Only a mountaineer’s son, poor and fatherless, though, thank the Fates, not motherless. At the thought of her, miles away in the verdant forests below, where snow seldom fell, my eyes grew moist, for I was only a boy, often saddened by the hardships she endured. Such reflections only fueled my ambition to achieve greatness.
Once more, I considered the difficulties I would face in my quest for success, fame, and power.
Atlantis, or Poseid, was an empire where subjects enjoyed freedoms granted under a limited monarchy.
The law of succession allowed every male subject a chance for political office.
Even the emperor held an elective position, as did his ministers and the Council of Ninety, or Princes of the Realm, offices similar to the Secretarial Portfolios of the American Republic, its true successor. If the throne or any council seat became vacant through death, the elective franchise came into effect. This rule applied even to the emperor, who was not exempt from dismissal for malfeasance.
The right to vote was vested in two major social divisions encompassing all classes of people, regardless of gender.
The Poseid political system was built on the principle of an educational measure for every ballot-holder, with no concern for the voter’s gender.
The two major social branches were the “Incala” and the “Xioqua,” the priesthood and the scientists.
One might ask where the opportunity for every subject lay in a system that excluded artisans, tradespeople, and the military, if they were not among the enfranchised classes.
Every person had the option of entering either the College of Sciences or that of Incal, or both, regardless of race, color, or gender.
The only prerequisites were that the candidate must be sixteen years of age and have received a good education, obtained in the common schools or one of the lesser colleges, like the Xioquithlon in the capital city of one of the Poseid States, such as Numea, Terna, Idosa, Corosa, or Marzeus.
The latter was the principal art-manufacturing center of Atl. The term of study at the Great Xioquithlon was seven years, with ten months of active work each year, divided into two sub-terms, and one month allowed for recreation.
Students could compete in annual examinations held just before the vernal equinox.
The course of study was optional, and students could select as many or as few topics as they wished, with the proviso that only those with first-class diplomas could be candidates for even the humblest official positions.
These certificates attested to a level of knowledge too extensive to detail here. Second-grade diplomas did not confer political prestige except for voting rights. However, anyone had the right to pursue education in any branch, whether or not they aspired to political office.
As I stood amidst those mountain snows, I decided not to overreach but to aim to become a Xioqua if any possible chance existed. Though I scarcely hoped for the distinction of being an Incala, I vowed to seize any opportunity to compete for the other title. To attain this goal, I needed not only to study arduously but also to secure sufficient funds for living expenses and to maintain unwavering determination. But how could I obtain all this? The gods were believed to help the needy. If I, a lad of not yet seventeen summers, with a mother relying on me, was not considered needy, then who was? Surely, there should be no more evidence needed to compel the gods to aid me.
Filled with such thoughts, I climbed higher towards the peak, near the apex of which I stood, for the dawn was not far off, and I must be on the highest stone to greet Incal (the sun) as he conquered Navaz. I must ensure that Incal, chief among the manifestations of the great and only true God, would regard my prayer favorably. No effort was spared to do him honor, for it was with this purpose that I had climbed alone up the trackless snow-covered mountain under the starry dome of the skies.
“Is there,” I asked myself, “a more glorious belief than that held by my countrymen? Are not all Poseidans worshipers of the Great God, the one true Deity, who is symbolized by the blazing sun? There can be nothing more sacred or holy.” So spoke the boy whose maturing mind had grasped the inspiring exoteric religion but who knew of none other, deeper and more sublime, nor would he learn of it in the days of Atla.
As the first light from behind His shield stole through the dark abyss of night, I threw myself prone in the summit snows, where I remained until the God of Light was entirely victorious over Navaz. Triumphant at last!
Then I arose, made a final profound obeisance, and retraced my steps down the fearful declivity of ice, snow, and barren rock, the latter black and cruelly sharp, thrusting its ridges through the icy coat, showing the ribs of the mountain, one of the peerless peaks of the globe, thirteen thousand feet above the sea.
For two days, I had strived to reach that frigid summit and cast myself as a living offering on its lofty altar to honor my God. I wondered if He had heard and noted me. If He had, did He care? Did He care enough to direct his vice-regent, God of the mountain, to aid me? I instinctively looked to the latter, hoping in what might seem blind faith for him to reveal a treasure of some sort, or—what was that metallic glint in the rock that my iron-shod alpenstock had uncovered in the morning sun’s rays? Gold! O Incal, it is so! Yellow, precious gold!
“O Incal,” I cried, repeating His name, “be thou praised for returning so quickly to Thy humble petitioner!” I knelt in the snow, uncovering my head in gratitude to the God of All Being, the Most High, whose shield, the sun, poured forth his glorious rays. Then I looked again at the treasure. What a store of wealth lay before me!
As the quartz rock splintered beneath my excited strokes, the precious metal held it together, so thickly did it vein its matrix. The sharp edges of the flinty stone cut my hands, causing blood to flow from several places. My hands froze fast upon the icy quartz, a union of blood and treasure! No matter, I tore them loose, ignoring the pain in my excitement.
“O Incal,” I exclaimed, “Thou art good to Thy child, so generously bestowing the treasure that will enable the realization of his resolution before hope can fade.” I filled my pockets with all I could carry, selecting the richest and most valuable pieces of gold quartz. But how should I mark the spot to find it again? A born mountaineer, this was no hard task, and soon accomplished. Then onward, downward, homeward, I went joyfully with a light heart, though a heavy load.
Not 2 miles (3.22 kilometers) from the base of my treasure peak, the emperor’s highway wound toward the great ocean, hundreds of miles away on the other side of the Caiphalian plains. Once reached, the most difficult part of the journey would be over, though only a fifth of the entire route would have been traversed.
To give some idea of the difficulties encountered in scaling or descending the giant mountain, the final five thousand feet of the ascent could only be made by a narrow, tortuous route.
A volcanic fissure provided precarious footholds for the first thousand feet. Above this point, the cleft ceased. Near its upper end was a small cave, large enough for twenty people. In the far end of this rocky room was a crack, wider horizontally than vertically.
Crawling through this crevice, the explorer would find that, for several hundred paces, they must descend a steep incline. The crevice widened, allowing a more upright posture, then twisted and ascended again, forming a tunnel that ascended by winding paths, its walls providing enough support to make the climb safe.
This arduous ascent covered thirty-odd hundred feet, the sinuosities of the route greatly increasing the distance covered in a vertical rise.
This, dear reader, was the only way to reach the summit of the highest mountain of Poseid, or Atlantis, as you call the island continent.
Arduous as the passage was, there was more than enough room in this dry old chimney, or watercourse. At one point, this long hole widened into a vast cavern, leading away at right angles from the chimney and descending into the mountain’s bowels, thousands of feet deep. In the inky blackness, no sound returned, and no torchlight revealed its other shore. There was nothing but an eternal sea of darkness. Yet, this place held no terrors for me; instead, it fascinated me. While others may have known of the place, I never found a companion brave enough to stand by my side on the horrid brink where I had stood several times in the past. On one such occasion, I had leaned over the edge to explore further when a huge basaltic block loosened and fell, taking my torch with it. I barely escaped with my life as the stone fell, its descent echoing for several minutes. Thenceforth, I had no curiosity to explore that unknown gulf.
Through the chimney leading past the upper end of this cavern, I had often passed, never finding the precious store of gold until I had asked Incal for it, driven by the pressing burden of my needs. Is it strange that I felt absolute faith in the religious belief of my people?
It was into this dark chimney that I had to go when I left the snowy summit, out of the sunlight and fresh air into dense blackness and a slightly sulfurous atmosphere. But if I left the morning brightness, I also left the bitter cold of the external air, for inside the tunnel, it was warm.
At last, I came to the small room at the head of the thousand-foot crevice leading to the easier slopes of the mountain’s lower and middle thirds. In that room, I paused. Should I return for another load of auriferous rock? Or should I continue on my homeward journey? I decided to return. By noon, I stood once more beside my treasure spot, and then, laden with a second load, I resumed the descent until the weariness subsided, for I stood at the entrance to the great cavern, four hundred feet from the little room at the head of the outer crevice. After a moment’s rest, I resumed the sharp ascent and soon reached the little room, only a dozen feet from the free air.
The tunnel, though sinuous as a whole, had some passages as straight as if cut by tools along a line. The four hundred feet separating the room where I rested from the cavern’s entrance was one such straight stretch, perhaps the most difficult to traverse, except for the rough sides that provided some foothold. Had the place been light, instead of pitch dark, I could have seen directly into the cavern from where I rested.
The warm air induced me to lie down and, as I rested, I ate a handful of dates and sipped a little of the melted snow-water in my water-skin. Then I stretched out to sleep in the warm air.
How long I slept, I did not know, but the awakening—ah, the terror of it! Blasts of air, so hot as to almost scorch, swept over me, laden with stifling fumes, as they rushed up the passage to the summit. Howling, groaning noises echoed up on the fervid breath of the abyss, mingled with tremendous explosions and deafening reports. Above all else, a glow of red light reflected from the cavern walls, revealing flashes of red, green, blue, and every other color, gases on fire. For a time, fear held me fast, gazing into the hellish depths of the blazing elements.
I knew the light, heat, stifling vapors, noise, and quivering of the mountain all pointed to one thing: an active volcanic eruption. At last, the spell was broken when I caught sight of a spurt of molten lava projected into the passage by an explosion within the cavern. Then I fled across the floor of the little room and crawled with insane haste through the horizontal entrance, which seemed never so low as at that moment! I had forgotten the gold in my pockets until I felt its weight slowing me down. But with the exertion to escape came a certain calmness, and I resolved not to abandon the treasure. Reflecting, I realized the danger, though imminent, was not immediate. So, I returned to the little room and filled a sack with all the ore I could carry.
I undid a leather thong from my waist, a cord forty feet long, looped one end to a rock at the upper end of the crevice, lowered the sack to the other end, and then climbed down after it. I repeated this process as I descended, eventually reaching the bottom of the crevice with most of my two loads of ore. From there, my route lay along the crest of a rocky ridge, narrow but sufficient for an easy path.
Just as I started along the ridge, I looked back over the way I had come. At that moment, a shock of an earthquake nearly threw me to the ground. Out of the little cave where I had slept shot a puff of smoke, followed by a red gleam—lava. It splashed downward, a fiery cascade, a glorious sight in the gathering darkness, for the sun was not yet set. The mountain was west of the ridge on which I stood, and, as night fell, my position was in deep shadow.
I fled along the ridge, leaving my sack of gold and much that was in my pockets in a safe place high above the bottom of the gorge, where the lava would flow. At a safe distance, I paused to rest and watched the fiery torrent leaping down the gorge, now some distance away on my right but in plain sight. “At least,” I thought, “I still have as much gold as I can carry. Even if I cannot retrieve what I left behind, I have a great store of wealth. Therefore, Incal, be praised!” How inadequate to meet the expenses of seven years at college—especially at the capital of the nation, where expenses were highest—I could not yet know. But it was a greater treasure than I had ever possessed or seen at one time, and so I was content.
A belief in an overruling Providence is necessary for all men; the difference lies in the power they ascribe to their deity. Those with greater knowledge require a deity whose power approaches infinity. Those who recognize the boundlessness of life acknowledge a God nearly omnipotent compared to the gods of lesser minds.
Whether the deity worshipped is a stone or wooden idol, some inanimate form, or a Supreme Spirit, it matters little. The beings who execute the karmic law of the Eternal God see the faith in mortal hearts and temper that law with mercy.
So it was with my belief in Incal, a belief shared by my countrymen. Incal was a purely spiritual conception, existing only in the minds of his worshippers, aside from the Eternal Cause, which no mind can sanely doubt.
Our faith was noble, tending towards high morality, nourishing faith, hope, and charity. Though the personal Incal, symbolized by the shield of the blazing sun, existed only in our minds, our Poseid concept stood in place of the Spirit of Life, the Parent of all. That was enough to ensure the observance of principles believed to please Him most.
Surely, the angels of the Most High Uncreated God, ministering then as now to the children of the Father, saw our faith and said, as they ministered: “Be it unto thee according to thy faith.” The angels, seeing my hope to excel among men, had chastened me with fear as I fled from the burning mountain, but there came no disaster.
I ran onward as quickly as the path allowed. I had life and gold; therefore, I praised Incal as I went. The Spirit of Life was merciful, for I was not to know how inadequate my treasure was until the sting of disappointment was removed by a more abundant provision.
For several miles, my course lay along the knife-edged back of the ridge. In many places, awful gulfs yawned beside the path, so close that I needed my hands to aid my feet. Sometimes cliffs extended on both sides of the trail, forming a narrow parapet. I was grateful for small mercies and thanked Incal that the god of the mountain did not bestir himself while I was in such perilous situations.
Three miles from my starting place, the path led me along the brink of a frightful precipice, with a wall of cliff above. Only the light of the burning mountain now illuminated my steps. As I climbed cautiously downward towards the basaltic brink, a heavy shock threw me to my knees and almost sent me into the gulf.
An instant later, a dull boom filled the air with an insistent intensity of sound, and I looked back in fright. A huge spout of fiery smoke was rushing skywards, mingled with stones large enough to be seen from my distance.
Below the brink where I clung, an awful grinding and crashing was occurring. The earth trembled fearfully, and repeated shocks caused me to grasp the rocks in desperate fear of being thrown over the edge.
Ahead, the gorge once skirted other ridges and spurs of the peak. Once, for a while, these ridges and spurs had existed; now they were gone! I gazed upon a scene of awful turmoil, lit by the volcanic glare just enough to be perceptible.
The solid hills and rocks seemed as unstable as the waters of the ocean, rising and falling in a horrid swell, grinding and crashing in genuine pandemonium. Over all, volcanic ash sifted in a thick, ceaseless shower, while dust and vapors filled the air, hanging like a funeral pall over a seemingly perishing world.
Finally, the mad uproar and sickening motion ceased; only the steady glow from the still-flowing lava and occasional earthquakes told the Plutonic tale. But I lay on the ledge, faint and ill. Gradually, the lava stopped flowing, the light went out, and the shocks became infrequent.
A peace as of death filled the region, while the silent gray ashes sifted down, covering the stricken land. Darkness reigned. I must have lost consciousness, for when I stirred, I felt sharp pain in my head.
A jagged stone had fallen from the cliff above, striking me. Further motion proved the wound was not serious, and I sat up. The dawn was coming, and, faint with pain, hunger, and cold, I lay down again to await the full day.
What a different scene Incal shone upon, compared to the previous morning! When I looked at the proud peak, the red light of the sun showed that half of it had been riven away and swallowed up in some mysterious cavern. Truly,
“Mountains rear to heaven their bald and blackened cliffs, And bow their tall heads to the plain.”
Nearer by, where other ridges had been, where the awful reeling of the cliffs had occurred, no more was any rocky spire, nor peak, nor cliff. Instead, there was a great lake of steaming water, whose distant shores were veiled by the settling ashes and clouds of steam condensed into a fine misty rain, the weeping of the stricken globe over its recent agony! All noise was hushed; the trembling ceased, and the fervid streaming of the lava ended.
The ridge where I had lain had mostly escaped the general rending. But even it had suffered, and the path ahead, which I had often traveled on my trips to the peak, was gone, a huge block of thousands of tons having slid into the pit below, erasing the path completely.
I sought another route, and in climbing around, I came to a part of the ridge on the far side from the sun. Suddenly, a dull red bar of light shone across my path! Looking for its source, I saw that the light streamed through a wide crack in the beetling cliff above.
The bottom of this crack was not far below me, and instead of narrowing, it had a floor as wide as any part of the fissure, as if all above that point had been forcibly slidden or faulted to one side—undoubtedly the real explanation.
I lowered myself to the level of this floor and, finding the crevice sufficiently wide, stepped into it, heedless of the fact that at any moment fresh convulsions of the volcano might close the cleft and crush me as between the jaws of a vise. I did consider this possibility but, Poseid-like, dismissed my fear by trusting in Incal, who would do whatever was good for me.
The stricken cliff showed veins of quartz with porphyritic sheaves, forming ledges running through the granite masses. Clear to the top, this narrow cleft extended, and though only two or three feet wide, its height made it appear very narrow.
As I paused, delighted by the thought that I was the first man to gaze upon virgin rock, I noticed something that set my pulse racing with joy. Right by my side, a little in front, was a vein of yellow, ocherous-looking rock in which I saw many maculations of whitish, harder rock—quartz bodies torn apart by the shock that formed the cleft.
These maculae were thickly dotted with nuggets of native gold and argent minerals. The ductility of the precious metals was exhibited in curious effects, the gold and silver being drawn out into wires, some several inches long.
Again, the faintness of hunger left me, and the pain of my head wound was temporarily forgotten as I chanted a hymn of gratitude to my God. Gone was the towering peak; destroyed was the sole route of access to the lofty summit; but here, after the war of the subterranean fires, was a greater treasure, nearer home and easier to reach—the excitement of joy was too great a strain on my already weakened nerves, and I fainted!
But youth is elastic, and the health of those without vices is wonderfully buoyant. I soon recovered consciousness and wisely made my way home without stopping, knowing that my mountaineering instincts would guide me back.
In consulting my mother, I realized she was right that I could not work the mine alone. But whom could I trust to help me and take an honest share of the wealth as compensation?
Enough to say that I found the necessary help. Certain professed friends entered into a partnership with me, allowing me one-third of the profits in exchange for retaining the remainder of the proceeds. They agreed to this without requiring any labor from me and, though reluctantly, also agreed to my demand that no part of the ownership should be vested in anyone but myself. I had them sign a paper to that effect and seal it with their own blood, the most inviolable sign possible in Poseid.
We all three did thus. I insisted on such formality because I suspected these men intended to claim they were the discoverers and that I had no right to any of it. Today, I know that this was indeed the case. I know that the proviso in the contract declaring that the whole mine they worked that year was my inalienable property was all that prevented the intended theft. This stipulation made no reference to the discoverer but clearly stated that I, Zailm Numinos, held the title to the property. If a dispute arose, I would not need to prove how I became the owner; no claim that someone else was the discoverer would avail the would-be thieves, for I was the owner, and possession meant every advantage under the law. At least, so it seemed to my ignorance.
My associates were not so ignorant. They knew the contract was worthless because it was executed in violation of the law. Later, I learned that the laws of Poseid required every mine to pay a tithe to the empire and that a mine worked without acknowledging this legal lien was liable to confiscation. If my partners had not been swayed by greed into keeping the whole agreement secret and working in the mine, thus making themselves complicit in violating the law, they could have become the legally recognized owners simply by reporting my actions to the nearest government agent. But I did not know these things then, and the others thought it wise to keep silent, believing they were violating only minor statutes. Thus, the secret was kept for later revelation.
With the means now at hand, the next step was to move from the country to the city of the Rai. Our farewell to the old mountain home and our arrival in Caiphul will be left unspoken.
