THE CITY OF A VANISHED RACE.
THE CITY OF A VANISHED RACE.
THE CITY OF A VANISHED RACE.
But even in that instant of deadly peril, Ding-dong did not lose his presence of mind, or, perhaps, instinct of self-preservation would be a better phrase.
As he felt himself lose his balance, he clung to the network of the rail, and hung there head downward between the sky and the earth for one instant. But that brief molecule of time was enough for Joe and Nat to secure his feet, as they flashed over the rail, and drag him back on board.
“Go to the cabin, sir,” ordered the professor, who was white and shaky, as, indeed, were the others.
There was no gainsaying his words, but Ding-dong, as usual, had to say something. He was the most unperturbed person on board, in fact.
“I d-d-d-d-didn’t do it on p-p-purpose, you know,” he remarked, as he walked off.
“Good heavens!” exclaimed the professor, leaning against the rail, “what trouble is that boy going to get into next?”
The stuttering lad’s narrow escape had so unnerved them all that there was no answer.
“Well?” said the professor at length, as if seeking a reply to his question.
“Don’t ask me, sir,” gasped out Nat. “I haven’t got my breath back yet.”
It was, perhaps, half an hour later when the entire craft was electrified by a cry from Joe.
“Nat was right! It is a lake!”
No need to ask to what he referred. The professor ordered theDiscoverersent higher, so as to give them a larger horizon, or, rather, a bird’s-eye view.
As the craft rose upward in obedience to her planes, they saw beneath them, but still at some little distance, what Nat has since declared was the most wonderful sight he has ever seen or hopes to see.
Rimmed by bare, gaunt mountains, inhospitable and bleak, lay a small lake, set like a turquoise in dull gold. In the midst of this lake was an island, and on this island, even at that height, they could perceive, were buildings rising in terraced formation. At the extreme summit of the island, which rose to a peak, was something that flashed and glowed in the sunlight almost blindingly.
“It’s the golden dome of the lost city!” gasped Nat.
“Say, Nat,” said Joe in rather a shaky voice, laying one hand on Nat’s arm.
“What is it, Joe?” asked Nat, without taking his eyes off the wonderful sight before him.
“Nothing; only—only I feel a bit scared,” was Joe’s quavering confession.
“You may well feel awe-stricken,” said the professor, whose eyes were gleaming, “ours are the first eyes to behold that island since the mysterious catastrophe that wiped out the race that inhabited it, occurred.”
There came a sudden voice at their elbows.
“L-l-l-looks like C-C-C-C-Coney I-I-Island.”
It was the incorrigible Ding-dong, who had taken advantage of the excitement to slip out of his place of involuntary confinement.
But, in the general interest in all that was occurring, no attention was paid to him. In the midst of the eager talk, and still more eager scrutiny of the island, old Matco, who had come out upon the deck and had stood silently gazing at the lost city, uttered a sharp cry.
Then, raising his hands above his head and fixing his eyes upon the sun, he began muttering what seemed to be a prayer.
This done, he turned to the professor and poured out a rapid flood of eager, emphatic words in his corrupt Spanish. So fast did he speak that the professor had difficulty in following him. But by paying close attention he managed to make out the old man’s meaning.
“What does he say?” asked Mr. Tubbs, as the old Indian ceased his torrent of words, and leaned back, looking quite exhausted.
“Why, it’s like fiction,” said the professor. “The old man says that we are fulfilling a tradition of his race which says that one day winged men from the sky would discover the city.”
“Well, that’s a good omen,” said Nat.
“W-w-w-whatever that may be,” sputtered Ding-dong. “Guess you mean n-n-no men.”
But the professor paid no attention to the irrepressible youth. Instead, he assumed rather a grave look.
“Why, I’m not quite so sure that it is a good augury,” he said slowly. “The old man says that the prophecy or tradition goes on to say that the wrath of the long-dead Incas shall be visited on the violators of their hidden city, and that a terrible end will overtake the sky men who invade it.”
As the professor talked the old Indian fixed his eyes on him as if he realized what he was saying. As the man of science concluded, he nodded solemnly, as if indorsing all that had been told.
“Oh, well,” said Nat, “we are not going to turn back for the sake of an old Indian ghost story.”
“Of course not,” said the professor; “but I thought if any of you are superstitiously inclined, I would warn you.”
“I guess it would take more than talk like that to turn us back now,” said Joe. “I’d face a legion of spooks to investigate that place.”
The others agreed with him. Indeed, as theDiscoverergrew nearer, the marvels of the lost city grew more and more awe-inspiring.
What had appeared in the distance to be a mere huddle of terraced buildings, were now seen to be stately palaces, some of them with trees still growing amidst them. The buildings rose in this form till they reached their climax at the great gold-plated dome that capped the summit of the wonderful isle.
The walls, so far as could be seen, were white, but profusely ornamented with barbaric magnificence.
Not a little of the mystic effect of the island was gained from the precipitous and rugged cliffs of the mountains that walled the lake.
“However do you suppose a lake came to be in such a situation?” wondered Nat, addressing the professor.
“In my opinion,” said the scientist, “that lake is what was once the crater of a volcano, more enormous than any yet known.”
“And what we thought were separate mountains were once only part of the summit of that volcano?” asked Nat wonderingly.
“I think we would be correct in assuming so. In many parts of the world the craters of extinct volcanoes are found to be filled with water, just as this one is.”
“The water must be of immense depth,” said Joe.
“In some cases it has been impossible to touchbottom, even with the longest lines and the most perfect sounding apparatus,” was the astonishing reply.
“But how does an island come to be in the middle of such a deep lake?” was what Mr. Tubbs wanted to know.
“What we call an island is probably the summit of another peak of the crater,” said the professor, “or it may have been formed, like those volcanic islands of which we have such a keen recollection, by the action of earth’s internal fires.”
The dirigible dropped lower. It was now almost directly above the lost city. It could be seen that surrounding the golden dome was a vast, semi-circular platform or courtyard of stone, with other stones set up perpendicularly around it.
“It is precisely like the arrangement of the Temple of the Sun in Peru,” said the professor.
“It will make a good place to land,” spoke the practical Joe.
“Doesn’t it seem almost like a sacrilege to bring a modern dirigible to earth in the very courtyard where the rites of ancient religion were practiced?” spoke Nat, who was an imaginative lad.
“Not at all,” said the professor, “and as for that ancient religion, if we had lived in the days when it flourished, I fancy we wouldn’t have liked it much. Like most ancient religions, it was a creed of bloodshed and violence. Human sacrifices may have been indulged in on those very stones we see beneath us.”
The boys agreed that this put quite another light on the matter, and the descent was made without further comment. The dirigible came to rest in the lost city of the Bolivian Andes at three o’clock in the afternoon. Mr. Tubbs was left to guard theDiscovererwith old Matco, who refused to move one step through the silent, long-deserted streets. But the boys and the professor set out on a tour of exploration.
The streets, they found, were like those of mountainous cities in Europe, and consisted mostly of steps. It was one of the most uncanny feelings that any of them had ever experienced, this walking through a city of the dead. For, although the ancient places were mostly in ruins, from earthquakes the professor judged, the city yet seemed lifelike enough for some of the vanished race to turn a corner at any instant.
For some reason, the boys kept very close to each other and to the professor, showing no disposition to wander. They found that, as they approached the lake, the buildings grew poorer in character and were not carved or decorated like those closer to the temple. The remains of a splendid wharf remained, however, which set the boys to wondering what had become of the boats that must have once plied between the city and the shore.
This, in turn, suggested ruminations upon the means employed by the vanished race of reaching the lake, for to climb over the mountains was obviously impossible. The professor opinedthat, at some time, a tunnel must have existed. This set the boys crazy to try to find it, but the man of science declared that, in all probability, the tunnel, if it had ever existed, had been ruined by earthquakes long since.
They stood by the lake side for a time looking into its dark blue depths, and then began a return up the street, climbing the steps cut in the rock.
“Where’s all the treasure we were going to find?” asked Joe, as they climbed the steep causeway worn by the feet of a race long since passed out of existence.
“I don’t imagine we are likely to find much that is valuable,” said the professor. “My belief now is, that when the Spaniards came the inhabitants of this city concealed everything valuable in it in some place known only to themselves.”
“Maybe the lake bottom,” suggested Joe.
“That is not improbable. At any rate, I think we shall have to content ourselves with the glory of having discovered this wonderful place. It is far more perfect than the ruins of Peru are described as being.”
“What about taking that gold plating off the sacred dome?” said the practical-minded Joe.
“Not with my consent,” said the professor. “I would wish this city to be the Mecca of antiquarians from all over the world.”
“I agree with you,” said Nat. “It would be vandalism of the worst sort to strip that rock.”
“Oh, I was only joking,” said Joe, with a rather red face.
“Here’s a peculiar-looking building,” went on Joe, a few moments later, as they passed a tower-like structure, higher than the other buildings, and without windows.
“Let us survey it,” said the professor. “See, here is a door. It has fallen in, it is true, but I imagine we can squeeze through.”
By dint of getting on their hands and knees they managed to crawl under the richly carved and broken portal, Nat pausing to notice that the carvings seemed to be of various astronomical bodies.
Within the tower they found themselves standing at the bottom of a tall, narrow, perpendicular shaft. It was, in fact, like looking up a circular chimney. At the top was something which at first sight seemed to be a big glass lens; but the professor pronounced it to be pure crystal.
“This is the most amazing find yet!” he exclaimed with enthusiasm. “I believe that this tower formed a sort of rude telescope, through which different observations were carried on.”
He clasped his hands in scientific fervor. Indeed, they had seen enough that afternoon to turn the brain of the least imaginative man of science!
Nat informed the professor of the carvings he had noticed.
“That settles the matter,” said the professor enthusiastically. “Good heavens, what a find! It has long been a controversy between various scientific men as to whether or no the ancient races understood astronomy in the true sense. The finding of this rude telescope will go far toward—— Gracious! what was that?”
“What?” cried Nat, considerably startled.
“Why, a hand reached out and grasped my hat and——”
Before the professor could conclude his sentence the boys saw a small brown paw project from a ledge above him and whisk his unlucky hat from his head.
“It’s a monkey!” cried Nat.
“A lot of them!” exclaimed Joe.
“T-t-t-there they go,” cried Ding-dong, as a dozen or more apes of the prehensile tailed type rushed off amidst the ruins, chattering and squealing and tearing and clawing at the professor’s unlucky headgear.
“Just to think,” sighed the man of science with resignation, “that I came all this way, and we have made all these discoveries, and yet my ill-fortune with hats pursues me still.”
“I’d give several dozen hats to have seen what we’ve seen,” Nat reminded him.
“That is so! that is so!” Professor Grigg agreed; “but——”
“Look out!” cried Joe, behind him, suddenly.
The professor leaped back just as an ugly flat head, with a pair of malicious leaden eyes, protruded itself at his elbow from between the crevices. It was the head of an immense snake.
Without more ado the explorers made haste to get out of the astronomical tower.
“Exploring is certainly strenuous work,” commented Joe as they gained the open air.
“Yes; I don’t wish to do any more without a rifle,” agreed Nat.
A STRANGE ADVENTURE.
A STRANGE ADVENTURE.
A STRANGE ADVENTURE.
Early the next day the explorers, boys and adults, resumed their investigation of the Lost City. The professor estimated that it would take some time before they had completed their work and collected relics, records and films of the various features of absorbing scientific interest to be found there.
Joe and Nat struck out in one direction, while the Professor, Ding-dong and Mr. Tubbs assumed another line of investigation. The path taken by the two boys led them down one of the crumbling streets to the lake front of the Lost City. On the way they entered several of the houses and collected some small relics and Joe, who had some talent that way, busied himself in making rough sketches of the buildings they examined.
At last, thoroughly tired out, the two lads sat themselves down on a raised pile of carefully fitted stones in the courtyard of a splendid white building with a pyramid-like cupola. They had brought some sandwiches and a flask of water with them and made a light meal while they rested.
“Seems like a sort of sacrilege to be eating corned beef sandwiches in what may have been a temple,” said Nat as he ate.
Joe laughed.
“From what we know of the folks that used to live here they used to make corned beef out of anyone they didn’t like, so don’t worry about that end of it, old fellow.”
“That’s so,” agreed Nat. “I wonder, for instance, if this business we’re sitting on at this moment isn’t an old altar of some kind. Looks as if it might have been.”
“It does that,” agreed Joe, “and see here, Nat, here’s a metal ring right here in this slab of stone. I wonder if they used to tie their poor victims to it?”
He indicated a big ring of dull, greenish metal which they had not noticed before. It was countersunk in one of the slabs of stone that formed the top of the altar.
Nat examined it.
“I guess more likely it was used to raise this stone,” he said. “Maybe the altar is hollow inside and contains relics of some sort.”
“Cracky! I’d like to raise it,” declared Joe; but, although he tugged and pulled till his ruddy face was redder than usual, Joe could make no impression on the stone.
“Let me try,” suggested Nat.
With what idea, he could not exactly say, the boy gave the ring a gentle twisting motion instead of tugging at it. Then an astonishing thing happened. The entire top of the altar tipped downward and the boys were shot, scrambling and struggling, into the interior of the altar, if such it had been. Before they knew just whathad occurred they found themselves in total darkness, for, having tipped them off, the stone had swung into place again.
A thrill of fear crept icily through Nat’s veins as he realized that they were prisoners. But he put all the heart he could into his reply when Joe in a frightened voice gasped out:
“What on earth happened, Nat?”
“Why, just this,” was the reply. “That altar top was counterbalanced. Our weight was on one end of it. In some way, when I twisted that ring, a spring or catch must have been loosened and—and—we’re in the interior of the altar.”
“Can we get out again, do you think?”
“That’s just what we’ve got to find out, and quickly, too, Joe,” was the response. “Got any matches?”
“Yes; luckily I brought some. I’ve got a pocket lantern here, too, with a candle in it. Shall I light up?”
“Yes, do so as soon as you can,” rejoined Nat.
The next minute the interior of the altar was illumined by a yellow light. But so perfectly had the swinging top of the altar been fitted that not a crevice appeared and as for any lever or handle by which it might have been opened, none was revealed by the light.
But it was some minutes before the boys found out this fact. When they did, however, it came with a sense of stunning bitterness. If they could not find a means of egress from the altar, they were, in all human probability, doomed to die in that gloomy prison.
Although they both realized their situation, neither lad voiced his fears. There still remained one end of the altar to be examined, and Nat lost no time in proceeding to investigate the hitherto neglected portion of their prison. But its masonry appeared to be as solidly constructed as was the case in every other part of the altar. Nat, almost in despair, was turning away when Joe, who had been at his side, gave a sudden cry.
“Nat! Nat! There’s a stone loose here. I can move it with my foot. When I press down on it—Great-jumping-horned-toads!”
Joe’s exclamation was caused by the fact that as he pressed down on the loose stone a small door opened out before them in the end of the altar. It was impossible to say, however, whither it led, as beyond lay total darkness.
“What do you say, shall we try it?” asked Joe in a rather tremulous voice, for the darkness looked singularly mysterious and forbidding.
“We’vegotto try it,” said Nat gloomily. “It’s our only alternative, unless we want to stay here and starve to death.”
Joe had to agree that this was a true statement of the facts of the case, and not without quickened pulses the two lads made the plunge into the darkness beyond the door. The portal was square and so low that they had to bend to get through it. The rays of Joe’s candle-lantern showed the two youths that they were in a low-roofed passage, or tunnel, just wide enough for them to proceed in single file.
“You go first,” said Joe in a rather quivery tone, which showed better than anything else that the adventure was having its effect upon him, the usually unperturbed.
“All right, give me the lantern.”
“I wonder where this passage can lead to?”
“Haven’t the least idea. I think we are going south, but I’m not sure.”
“I’m all twisted up, too. I wish we’d left that old ring alone.”
“Maybe I don’t, too. If we ever get out of this place, I’ll leave all such devices severely to themselves in future.”
“Have you any idea of the purpose of this passage?”
“Not I. Maybe it was used as a means of escape. In that case——”
“In that case we will get out to daylight again,” Joe concluded.
“On the other hand, it may have been designed as a means of executing their criminals or enemies. I’ve heard of such things.”
Joe fairly shuddered.
“Oh, talk of something pleasant,” he said, with a groan.
No more was said for a time. The circumstances didn’t make the boys feel much inclined for conversation.
All at once they emerged into a vaulted chamber, seemingly cut out of the living rock. At the top of its arched roof was set a huge crystal, very like the one they had seen in the “telescope tower,” only much larger. Through this lens light was streaming into the place, the walls of which were painted and carved with all manner of strange-looking inscriptions and designs. Nat was so intent on gazing at these that he did not look as carefully where he was going as he had in his progress down the passage.
Suddenly his feet slipped from under him and he found himself falling downward. Joe uttered a cry as he saw his comrade vanish. He leaped forward, checking himself just in time to avoid sharing Nat’s plight. He found himself on thebrink of a sort of well about ten feet deep. At the bottom of this was Nat. Joe uttered a cry of relief as Nat hailed him and assured him that, by a miracle, he was not hurt.
“But how are you going to get out of there?” demanded Joe the next instant.
How, indeed? The question certainly was a poser. The walls of the well were as smooth as glass almost and Joe noticed a peculiar feature. From its “curb” radiated long lines extending over the floor of the rocky chamber. These lines were cut in the rock and reminded Joe of lines he had seen cut on a sun dial.
But he gave little thought to this at the moment. His mind was centered on finding a means to get Nat out of his predicament. But, though he thought and thought, no solution of the problem occurred to him.
Joe was still wrapped in thought at the edge of the well when he felt a sudden blast of fearful heat on his back. He looked hastily round. His first thought was that some hidden fire must suddenly have burst into life behind him.
But, no, what he had felt had been the rays of the sun pouring through the crystal at the top of the cavern and striking down with tremendously magnified force upon him.
“Phew! That felt like an oven!” exclaimed Joe, moving away.
It was a moment later that he observed something that filled him with a vague sense of alarm, which swiftly crystallized into a sharp, livid pang of fear.
The sun was now striking down into the well. Like a thunderbolt the purpose of the pit and the reason of the crystal lens burst upon Joe.
The ancient dwellers of the Lost City had been Sun Worshippers. This chamber was a sacrificial one and the priests of the vanished race had offered up their victims’ lives by literally dedicating them to the Sun gods. As this alarming truth broke upon Joe a faint cry came from Nat, down in the pit.
“Joe, for gracious sake, do something to get me out of here! The sun is striking down into the pit. It is fearfully hot. If you don’t get me out soon I’ll be baked alive.”
Poor Joe cast his eyes about him despairingly. The sun was streaming through the lens at an angle now. What would happen when its direct rays poured down into the narrow well he could not bear to think.
SAVED FROM THE SUN GODS.
SAVED FROM THE SUN GODS.
SAVED FROM THE SUN GODS.
Suddenly a thought struck him. Perhaps by joining his belt and Nat’s together and then leaning over the edge of the pit he could haul his unfortunate chum up to safety. It was worth trying, anyway.
Going to the edge of the pit and leaning over, Joe communicated his idea to Nat. By this time the sun was streaming dazzlingly into the pit and only by crouching in one corner could Nat escape its ardent rays. Acting on Joe’s instructions, Nat took off his belt and threw it upward. After one or two trials Joe managed to catch it. Then, taking off his own, he joined the two together. Then he extended himself at the edge of the well, and, reaching out his arm to the utmost, lowered the two joined belts down to Nat. They were about a foot too short for Nat to reach them even with the utmost endeavor of which Joe was capable!
Things began to look black, indeed. Momentarily the sun was nearing the zenith, and the place into which Nat had fallen was so designed that when the luminary reached its highest point in the skies the excavation would be filled with its rays, magnified many times by the crystal lens. The lens, in fact, was nothing more nor less than an immense burning-glass designed to shrivel up the victims of the ancient priesthood. How little those who invented such a cruelly ingenious device could have imagined that a boy of the twentieth century would ever be in danger of losing his life by it! Yet such was the case and neither Nat nor Joe could conceal the fact from themselves an instant longer.
“Can’t you think of anything? Don’t you think you could climb up just a foot or two?” asked Joe, despairingly.
“The walls are smooth as glass. I don’t believe a fly could get a hold on them,” was the rejoinder. “Joe, the heat is getting awful!” gasped out poor Nat in conclusion.
“Gracious! What am I to do?” cried Joe to himself. He rose to his feet and gazed about him. Suddenly a thought struck him. If the priests, as seemed only too probable, really roasted people to death in that well, they must have had some means of getting the bodies out. How did they do it? It must have been by a chain or rope, or something of the sort, was the thought that struck Joe after a minute’s reflection. In that case the chain, or whatever they used for the purpose of extricating their victims, must be somewhere in the chamber.
“I’ll find it, if it’s anywhere within reach,” determined Joe.
Then he hailed Nat in as cheerful a voice as he could muster. He told him what he was going to do and begged him to keep up his courage. Nat replied bravely that he could hold out a while longer; but the weakness of his voice made it painfully evident that if help was to be furnished him it would have to come quickly or be too late.
Joe noticed, now that his sight was quickened by the need of hasty action, that off at one side of the chamber was a recess cut in the rocks. He hastened over to it and found that within it was an ancient chest of some sort of sweet-smelling wood. This was so dry-rotted with the ages that a vigorous kick of the lad’s foot smashed the moldering lock off and Joe hastily threw the lid open.
He could not refrain from uttering a cry of joy as his eyes noted its contents, some spears, axes, of stone or flint—whose former purpose seemed only too evident—and, best of all, a coil of chain, forged of the same peculiar greenish metal as the ring had been.
“Hurray!” shouted Joe as he dragged out the chain, “this is what we wanted. Now I’ll have Nat out in no time.”
Hastening back to the lip of the well with the chain, he dangled its end, which terminated in a hook, over the edge. As he did so he gasped at the hot fumes which arose from the cylindrical pit. Joe was only just in time. Nat had barely strength enough to fasten the chain under his armpits and begin scrambling up as Joe hauled with all his might.
But if the hole had not been small enough in circumference for Nat to brace his legs against one side of it and help work himself up in this way, Joe would never have got him out. As it was, the task almost exhausted the strength of both boys, and when it was completed they lay gasping at the edge of the well for some moments, utterly unable to command their limbs.
Joe was the first to recover. The sun had now reached the zenith, and through the mammoth burning-glass was pouring hotly into the well. A sudden idea struck Joe. He tore a bit of paper off an old envelope he happened to have in his pocket and let it flutter into the pit.
As it dropped waveringly the paper turned brown, then black, and as it struck the bottom of the sun-heated pit it dissolved altogether into shrivelled cinder.
Joe turned away from the pit with a shudder. The thought of the fearfully narrow escape Nat had had almost unnerved him. But for Nat’s sake he did not let the other lad see how shaken he was. Shortly after Nat, though still weak, was sufficiently recovered to get shakily to his feet. Then the two lads set about to find a way out of the sacrificial cave. First, however, they armed themselves with a stone-axe apiece.
The arched entrance of another passage than the one by which they came opened off on one side of the cavern, and as they peered into it they could feel a sharp puff of delightfully cool air. “That means that this passage leads out into the open,” cried Nat gleefully. “Come on, Joe, we’ll soon be out of this mess.”
Joe, rejoicing as much as Nat, followed the young leader of the Motor Rangers. As they advanced the air blew upon them cleaner and sweeter every instant. Both lads inhaled it ingreat lungfuls. It seemed as if they could never get enough of it after that oven-like chamber of the sun.
“I wonder what part of the city we’ll come out in,” said Nat presently.
“Near the camp, I hope. How astonished the others will be when we tell them of what has happened to us! I’ll bet they’ve had a tame time compared to ours.”
“I hope so for their sakes,” said Nat with a laugh, “but I guess we are out of the woods now.”
But were they? It seemed to the two young Motor Rangers, a moment later, that they were not by any means “out of the woods,” as Nat had phrased it.
Instead, they soon found themselves at the mouth of the passage; but as far from finding their friends as ever. For the tunnel emerged in the face of a precipitous cliff, below which glittered the waters of the lake. It was a cruel disappointment.
While they still stood there, almost crushed by the sense that after all they were still prisoners—and apparently hopeless ones—a startling thing happened.
In the passage behind them distant voices sounded!
Human voices they were beyond a doubt. They were borne to the ears of our two young friends with the booming sound produced by the tunnel, which formed, as it were, a giant speaking-tube.
The boys exchanged alarmed glances. Who could these denizens of the subterranean world of the island be? Survivors of the cruel race of whose practices they had just had a terrible revelation? Robbers, or worse, who had made the Lost City their rendezvous? Or was it, after all, a trick of the imagination?
Determined to test this last idea, Nat slipped a short distance into the tunnel and listened intently.
A few seconds satisfied him that their imaginations had played them no pranks. Voices, far off, but apparently coming nearer, could be distinctly heard. Nat turned faint and sick for an instant, and a glance at Joe’s face showed him that his companion, too, was badly shaken. Nat did not blame him. The knowledge that mysterious beings of some sort were within the tunnel and coming toward them—perhaps on their track—gave him a most uncomfortable thrill.
He glanced down from the ledge on which they stood. The cliff face was smooth, although some metal rings showed that a ladder must once have existed by which the lake might be reached. Above the mouth of the tunnel the precipice was sheer also.
They were fairly trapped. As they realized this each lad instinctively grasped his stone-axe tighter. Nat crouched behind a boulder and Joe squeezed in close beside him.
“Who do you think they are?” he quivered, “survivors of the Lost Race, or—or——”
“I don’t know,” rejoined Nat, with what composure he could summon, “but this I do know, that they are not likely to be friendly if they find us.”
“Then there is a chance——”
“Yes, a chance that they may not come as far as this, or may not see us. They may be crossing some intersecting passage from a higher level.”
But a few minutes later the voices grew louder. The perspiration broke out on Joe’s forehead. He gripped his axe more tightly, but the sense of the mystery surrounding the beings who were approaching made him catch his breath in agitation. He felt as if he were in some nightmare.
“Mind! Don’t make a hostile move unless they attack us first,” warned Nat in an impressive whisper.
The next instant a high-pitched voice came booming down the tunnel.
“S-s-s-s-say this bub-bub-beats the Sub-ub-ub-ubway!”
“Jumping hop-toads! That’s Ding-dong Bell!” cried Joe, dashing down his hammer.
“And the professor!” cried Nat as another familiar voice came toward them.
“And Mr. Tubbs! What on earth!”
With wild whoops of joy the two boys who an instant before had been expecting to face, they knew not what, peril, rushed to meet their friends. They were in such a hurry that they narrowly escaped being shot, the other party being as much alarmed at their approach as they had been at the advance of the professor and his companions.
Matters were soon explained. The professor and his comrades had found the mouth of a tunnel in an old temple. Entering this, it had brought them underground. Some distance above the lake end of the tunnel which the boys had traversed, the passage by which the professor had travelled joined it. The hurry of Nat and Joe to reach the fresh air explained why they had not noticed the branch passage. Had they done so and followed it they would have come out not far from camp.
“DID WE DREAM IT ALL?”
“DID WE DREAM IT ALL?”
“DID WE DREAM IT ALL?”
The search of the ruins was prosecuted with vigor for several days more before they stumbled upon anything in the way of “te-ter-treasure,” as Ding-dong Bell called it. But during that time the boys’ eyes had been so satiated with wonders of ancient architecture and carvings, that they had almost forgotten about the more material part of their quest.
One afternoon Nat and Joe had set forth to explore a temple which, hitherto, had not been entered. The professor would have accompanied them, but he was busy working up his field notes into his journal, and compiling in systematic form descriptions of the wonders of the island. Mr. Tubbs and Ding-dong had gone off making photographs, of which a goodly number had been taken, not forgetting several motion pictures, showing the explorers at work.
“Suppose we take a look over that queer, oblong building,” said Joe, as they set out, indicating a smaller building than the others, not so very far removed from the grand circle of structures fronting on the circular Sun Temple, which formed the “hub” of the island.
“Very well,” said Nat; “but I don’t suppose it contains anything but a replica of what we’ve seen already.”
“Well, inasmuch as the professor has made up his mind not to leave the island till everything has been explored and recorded, we might as well see what we can see in there,” went on Joe.
So the two lads set forth on their tour of exploration. The door of the temple they had elected to investigate was in fairly good preservation, the lintel post not having cracked, as was the case with most of the other buildings. The usual condition was an evidence of the severity of the earthquakes that must, from time to time, have shaken the island.
Passing through the entrance they found themselves in pitchy darkness. But, as they had long since found electric flashlights needful articles in searching the ruins, they soon had drawn out a couple of these and illuminated the gloom.
“This is a queer sort of place,” remarked Nat, looking about him as they flashed the lights hither and thither, “I wonder if the same peculiar feature about it has struck you as it has me.”
“What is that?” asked Joe.
“Why, in every other one of these old temples and ruins we have seen, there was every provision for the admittance of light; in fact, the old Incas were sun worshippers.”
“I see what you mean now,” cried Joe eagerly. “This place hasn’t a window in it.”
“No; that’s odd, isn’t it? I wonder if, by any chance, this can be the Temple of the Moon that the professor was anxious to discover.”
“By George! I shouldn’t wonder if you’ve hit on the explanation, Nat.”
“Do you think so?”
“I do.”
“Well, let’s carry on our investigations.”
“By all means. We may be on the verge of a great discovery of some sort.”
“I hope we don’t discover any more snakes.”
“Same here. Those beasts get on my nerves.”
“We’ve seen enough of them in the last few days to make you get accustomed to them.”
“That is true; but just the same, the more I see of them the less I like them. These ruins all seem to be alive with them.”
“I guess they are common in every part of this country.”
“Ugh! I can never think of that one that almost got poor Ding-dong without a shudder.”
“Well, let’s push on. This place seems to have a sort of dome for a roof.”
As he spoke, Nat flashed his light up till its beam of radiance showed a finely modeled but low dome above them. As the light fell on the concave structure, the lad gave a cry.
“Look, Joe! Look!”
“What? Where?”
“Up there, right above us!”
“Why, it’s a huge silver moon embossed on the dome!”
“That’s what it is. There is almost as much silver there as there is gold on the sacred dome. Those old fellows were not sparing with precious metals.”
“I should say not. But what’s that over there, Nat? Surely it’s a door.”
“Looks like one, anyhow. Let’s try it and see.”
The two lads crossed the stone floor, upon which the dust of the ages lay thick and rose in choking clouds, and reached the portal which Joe had pointed out. The great ring affixed to one side of it was of some peculiar sort of metal, not unlike bronze, and was untarnished.
Not without a faster beating of his heart, Nat turned the ring. It moved easily, and as it did so the door swung outward. It was of stone, and massive as the living rock itself.
Within they made out a flight of stairs that led steeply upward into the darkness.
“Are you game to try them?” asked Nat.
“Am I? I wouldn’t go out of here without seeing where they lead.”
“Well, go easy. They might give way. Heaven only knows how old they are.”
But the stairs proved solid. They wound upward steeply, worming their way around a central pillar covered with carvings. At last the boys emerged on a kind of platform at the top, which was roofed in by an irregularly shaped covering. Right in front of them were two round holes placed at some distance apart, and at their elbows were some curious-looking bits of apparatus. One of these looked like a gigantic bellows, and another was not unlike a megaphone in form.
“Well, where on earth are we now?” gasped Joe.
“I don’t know, but light is coming in through these holes. Let’s look out and see.”
The boys each took one of the circular windows and peered out. To their astonishment they looked into a vast cavernous chamber, lighted from the summit which admitted sunshine, the roof of which was supported by pillars. It was so vast that it took the breath away almost, to gaze into its great distances and heights.
The floor of this place was marked with a circle, about which were inscribed signs at regular intervals.
“Must have been their equivalent for the signs of the zodiac,” breathed Nat, awestruck at the enormous spaces before him.
“Then this was a temple,” said Joe looking down from his window at the great floor, which was fully twenty feet below where the boys stood peering.
“It must have been,” gasped out Nat, “and—and—Joe, we are in the very holy of holies of this island.”
“What do you mean?”
“Can’t you see? Look below you. We are peering out of the eyes of a huge idol made out of the rock. That stuff at the head of the stairs must have been the apparatus the priests used to make the idol speak and utter terrifying noises.”
There was no question but that Nat was right. Both boys could now make out beneath them, the rounded outlines of a huge squatting figure. In the head of this monstrous figure—its eyes, in fact—were the two circular holes through which they were looking.
“Gracious, what a sight it must have been when that temple was full of people of the vanished race, adoring this great idol,” murmured Nat, in awestruck tones.
“And what a job the priests must have had fooling them through that megaphone and that big bellows,” said Joe, the practical.
“That wouldn’t have detracted from the grandeur of the scene. It must have all been very real to them. Why, this place must be as vast as the hugest cathedral.”
“It gives me the shivers,” said Joe. “Hark, how your voice goes echoing off there among the pillars.”
“I wish there was some way of climbing down through these eyes. I’d like to explore that temple. I wonder where the entrance is.”
“Must be on the other side of the island. In the meantime, let’s look at the head of the stairs there, and see if we can discover anything else.”
The boys flashed their lights about among the pile of mouldering relics and machinery of the ancient priests. Suddenly Nat gave a shout of triumph.
“What do you make of this?”
“This” was a huge chest, the lid of which, bound and embossed with dully glittering metal, was open. It was full of various articles, some of which gleamed and flashed with gems. Nat plunged in his hand and drew out a goldenbreastplate. Joe followed this discovery by drawing forth a cup of what seemed to be pure turquoise. Various head-dresses of precious metal, more cups and vessels of gold, all jewel studded, followed.
“Well, we’ve found it,” breathed Nat; “we’ve found it, Joe, old boy.”
“Yes, and now we have, let’s take what we can of this stuff and get out of here,” said Joe. “We’ll come back with more lights and company. It’s getting kind of creepy and lonesome in the dark here.”
The boys loaded themselves with all they could carry, including the turquoise cup, and stumbled down the stairway. It did not take them long to retrace their steps and dump down their prizes in front of the astonished professor. He declared that the value of the turquoise cup alone was inestimable, while the jewels in some of the breastplates and vessels were worth more than he dared to name.
“I should say that what you have here would fetch two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in the value of the jewels alone,” he said. “As to what they are worth as relics of a vanished race, I am not prepared to say.”
Half an hour later, while they still sat awed and silent about the pile of wonderful relics, Ding-dong Bell appeared lugging an armful of photographic plates.
“We got some dandy pictures,” he began, “we—— Wer-wer-well, I’ll be jer-jer-jer-jig-gered!”
For the first time in his life Ding-dong Bell was fairly taken aback and bereft of all speech. He could only stand and blink in owl-like fashion at the marvelous display laid out before him.
“Nat! Nat! wake up!”
The voice sounded in the ear of the leader of the Motor Rangers, and was accompanied by a violent shaking of his shoulder.
“What is it, Joe? Here, quit shaking my bed, I——”
“I’m not shaking your bed, Nat. It’s the whole island that’s shaking! Quick, help me arouse the others!”
Nat was awake in a flash. As he hastily drew on some clothes a strange moaning noise filled the air. It was followed by a rushing sound overhead.
“It’s an earthquake!” exclaimed the professor, as soon as he was awakened.
As he spoke the whole structure of theDiscovererwas shaken as if by a giant hand beneath her.
At the same instant the voice of old Matco was heard calling out as if in prayer.
“Get her loose, for heaven’s sake!” cried Mr. Tubbs, “or we’ll be destroyed!”
“It is the vengeance! The vengeance!” cried old Matco in Spanish, bursting into the cabin.
“Switch on the lights,” ordered the professor.
Joe sprang into the pilot house and threw the switch. A blaze of light illumined the aircraft. It showed a strange scene in her cabin. Half-dressed, and wholly bewildered, the adventurerswere being thrown about like so many ninepins. The substructure of theDiscoverershook like an ague-stricken human being, as the earth beneath her rocked and rumbled.
Nat and Joe, the most self-possessed of any on board, sprang out upon the decks. The ropes had been tied, it not having been anticipated that they would want to leave in a hurry.
“Cut them!” shouted Nat above the hubbub about them.
The sky was being ripped and seared by livid lightning, while the flashes of light showed the lake to be a mass of white foam. The air was filled with a strange, roaring sound.
It was the voice of the earthquake. Nat had heard it once before in California.
As the boys’ knives fell on the ropes, theDiscoverershot upward. Up and up into the lightning-riven sky she arose, while beneath them the earth shook and rocked and rumbled.
“Great Scott!” cried a voice,—it was Nat’s,—“if ever we get struck by a flash of that lightning,—good-bye!”
The words sounded flippant, but the danger was real. The boy recalled reading of the fatal disaster to the great Zeppelin dirigible in a thunder-storm. But still they could not seek a refuge on the earth, at any rate not on the island. The air was the only place for them to seek safety.
The noise all about was nothing less than terrific. Voices could not be heard unless raised to a shout. The rigging of the dirigible creaked and groaned as the great bag swayed, and added to the distracting turmoil.
Paralyzed by the very suddenness and utter unexpectedness of it all, the adventurers for a time merely clung to the rails of their swaying, madly careening craft. How that night passed, none on board was exactly able to tell in after days.
They got the engine going, and held the big cloud cruiser as close to the earth as they dared, using the descending planes to steady her underthe wild swaying of the great gas bag. A furious wind accompanied the earthquake, and when the lightning died away it seemed as if there was to be fresh and even more deadly peril, from the possibility of the great gas container being ripped bodily from the substructure.
But the rigging held tightly, and dawn found the disturbance almost at an end. It was a shaken, white-faced crew that regarded one another in the gray light. The night had been one to try the nerves of a man of iron, and the Motor Rangers were only youths.
However, the storm died out almost as swiftly as it had come, and breakfast and hot coffee heartened them wonderfully. Even old Matco plucked up his spirits, although, during the night, he was certain that they were bound to perish in the anger of the old gods of his country.
After the morning meal they began to look about them. They found that, during the night, they had been blown far to the southward of the site of the lost city, but they could still make out the ragged peaks that marked its locality.
The professor called a meeting, and it was unanimously decided to wing back and find out how the island of the dead had fared. They reached the spot by noon, and sailed over the peaks and gazed down into the place where the island should have been.
But no island was there!
It had vanished as completely as if it had been a dream. Only the waters of the lake rippled as placidly as of yore, hiding forever under their azure surface the city that had been and now was not.
Silent and stunned the adventurers turned theDiscoverer’sprow toward the westward once more.
“If it wasn’t for those relics in the cabin,” said Nat pensively, “I should think that we’d dreamed it all.”
As he spoke he looked back toward the far horizon. Already the ragged peaks were fading on the sky and soon would be out of sight.
“After all,” said the professor at length, “perhaps it is better so than if that noble city of a vanished race had become the resort of gossiping tourists.”
And in after days they agreed with him; but with Nat and Joe it was long a bitter thought that they had left in the Temple of the Moon some of the most marvelous remains of an ancient civilization ever discovered.
The untimely ending of the existence of the wonderful island put an end also to the Motor Rangers’ aerial adventures, for the professor decided to abandon all attempts at relocating it and employing divers, as had been his first intention.
The voyage north was made on the staunch oldNomad, and Mr. Tubbs and the professor accompanied the boys. Old Matco received a substantial reward, and decided to spend his last days in the shelter of Bolivian cities rather than to take once more to the life of the forest.
As for Captain Lawless and his rascally mate, they were last heard of roaming about Bolivia, still seeking for the lost city, of whose destruction they were not aware. They had engineered an expedition with their remaining money for this purpose, but not, of course, till after their release from prison for firing at the airship. But as this was only a brief incarceration, it did not delay their plans much. The present chronicler is not in a position to state their ultimate fate.
It may be of interest to state here, that the crew they had so basely deserted, managed to regain their schooner from the rascally old island chief and sail her home, where they collected salvage from the owners.
The Motor Rangers enjoyed a long rest at home and then visited New York to aid in classifying and arranging the pictures and relics of the lost city. The cloud cruiser was sold to a syndicate, which long used her as a passenger craftat fairs and exhibitions, and it is safe to say that not one of her passengers ever dreamed of what the airship that carried him had passed through.
Their exciting adventures above the earth will ever remain to the trio of boys among their most thrilling recollections, says Nat; but in a recent letter to a friend he hints that tiring of inactivity he and his two chums have already started out in search of fresh incident and adventure.
From what Nat says the tale of their experiences should form a suitable sequel to the other volumes of this series, and it will be called:The Motor Rangers’ Wireless Station.