 CHAPTER 18. SOMETHING LIKE A WHITE ELEPHANT. ONLY A LAD. SLIDE-LIMBED AND SIDE-LIMBED. Slenderly, framed to the eye, yet for all that gifted with a gallant heart, else he surely must have been cowed to terror by the huge bulk of such a dire adversary at close quarters. Instead of trying to find safety in headlong flight, the Indian stood at bay, with both hands firmly gripping the shaft of his copper-bladed spear, as far too close quarters for employing bow and arrows, while the copper knife in his sash was held in reserve for still closer work. Snarling, growling, displaying its great teeth while clumsily waving enormous paws which bore talents of more than a finger-length, the bear was balanced upon its hind quarters, evidently just ready to lurch forward with striking paws and gnashing teeth. Its enormous weight would prove more than sufficient to end the contest ere it fairly began, while a slight stroke from those tallened paws would both slay and mutilate. No one was better aware of all this than the Indian lad himself, yet he took the initiative, swiftly darting his spear forward, lending to its keen point all the power of both arms and body. A societal act had certainly appeared, yet one which could scarcely make his position more perilous. An awful roar burst from Bruin as he felt that thrust, the blade sinking deep and biting shrewdly, but then he plunged forward, striking savagely as he dropped. The Indians drove to leap backward an instant after delivering his stroke, but still clung to the spear-shaft. This hampered his action to a certain degree, yet in all probability that stout ashen-shaft preserved his life, which that wound would otherwise have forfeited. The stroke but brushed a shoulder, nor did a claw take fair effect, yet the stripling was felled to earth as those smitten by a thunderbolt. All this before the brothers could solve the enigma thus offered them so unexpectedly, but that fall and the awful rage displayed by the wounded grizzly as he briefly reared erect to grind asunder the spear-shaft, decided the white lads, and temporarily forgetting how dangerously nigh were yonder Aztec and hosts, both Bruno and Waldo opened fire, with their Winchester rifles, sending shot after shot in swift succession into the bulky brute, fairly beating him backward under their storm of lead. Victory came right speedily, but its finale was thrilling if not fatal. The huge beast, toppling forward, dropped heavily upon the young savage, just as he was recovering sufficiently from shock and surprise to begin a struggle for his footing. Firing another couple of shots, while rifle muzzle almost touched an ear, the brothers quickly turned attention towards the fallen Indian, more than half way believing he may corpse, crushed out of shape upon the underlying rocks by that enormous carcass. Fortunately for all concerned, the young Aztec was lying in a natural depression between two firm rocks, and while his extrication proved to be a matter of both time and difficulty, saying nothing of main strength, success finally rewarded the efforts of our young Samaritans. The grizzly was stone dead. The Indians seemed but a trifle better, though that came through compression rather than any actual wounds from tooth or talon, and the brothers themselves were fairly dismayed. Not until that rescue was finally accomplished to die their lad give thought to what might follow, but now they drew back a bit into changing looks of puzzled doubt and worry. Right in it up to our next old man, and we can't very well kill the critter, can we? Of course not, but it may cause a sore trouble if. Just then the young Aztec rallied sufficiently to move, drawing a step nearer the brothers, right hand coming out in greeting, while left palm was pressed close above his heart, still greater marvel. Much obliged me, you brother! If yonder bleeding grizzly had risen erect, and made just such a salutation as this, it could scarcely have caused greater surprise to either Bruno or Waldo looking upon this being as they quite naturally did, in the light of a genuine heathen, hence incapable of speaking any known tongue, much less the glorious Americanese. True, there was a certain odd accent, a curious dwelling upon each syllable, but the words themselves were distinctly pronounced and beyond misapprehension. Why, I took you for a howling engine! Fairly exploded Waldo, then stepping forward to clasp the proffered member, giving it a regular pump-handle shake by way of emphasis. And here you are slinging the pure United States around just as though it didn't cost a cent, and you held a mortgage on the whole dictionary! Why, I can't—well, well, now! For once in a way the glib-tongued lad was at a loss just what to say and how to say it, for after all this surely was a red-skin, and the professor had explicitly warned them against—oh, dear! Was it all a dizzy dream? For the Aztec drew back, speaking rapidly in an unknown tongue, then sinking to earth like one overpowered by sudden physical weakness. Bruno Gillespie, too, was recalling his uncle's earnest cautions, and now took prompt action. He quickly secured the weapons which had been scattered as the Indian fell before the grizzliest paw, then the brothers drew a little apart to consult together. What'll we do about it? Whisperingly demanded Waldo, keeping a wary eye upon yonder red-skin. You tell, for blamed if I know how! We daren't let him go free, else he might fetch the whole tribe upon our track. Said Bruno, in the same low tones, know it less sorely perplexed as to their wisest course. No, and yet we can't very well kill him, either, if we hadn't come along just as we did, or if—but he's a man, after all, who could stand by and see that ugly brood make a meal of even an engine? Bruno cast an uneasy look around, at the same time deftly refilling the partly exhausted magazine of his Winchester. Put up, Waldo. Burning powder reaches mighty far, even here in the hills, and who knows, the whole tribe may come helter-skelter this way to see what has broken loose, and we can't fight him all. Not unless we just have to—agreed the Younger Gillespie, placing a few shells where they would be handiest in case of another emergency—but what's the use of running if we're to leave this fellow behind to blaze our trail, if he's our enemy? No, and me, ex-li-friend, heart-brother! Eagerly vowed the young Aztec once again startling the lads by a strange command of a foreign tongue. He rose to his feet, though plainly suffering in some slight degree from that brief collision with the huge beast, and smiling frankly into first one face, then the other, took Bruno's hand, touched it with his lips, then bowed his head and placed the wider palm upon his now uncovered crown. In like manner he saluted Waldo, after which he drew back a bit, still smiling genuinely to add in slowly spoken words. You save ex-li, bear-kill no, you kill yes, ex-li glad, son-children great, big heart full of love, so ex-li never do hurt, never do wrong, die for white brother, so! More through gesticulation than by speech the young Indian brave made his sentiments clearly understood, and if they could have placed full dependence in that pledge the brothers would have felt vastly relieved in mind. But they only too clearly recalled numerous instances of cunning ill-faith, and, in despite of all, they could not well avoid thinking that this was really something like a white elephant thrown upon their hands. All right, play, we swallow it all, but keep your best eye peeled, old man! Suddenly whispered Waldo, fetch him along, yes or no, for it may be growing worse than dangerous right here after so much shooting. You mean, for us too, take the fellow along and keep him with us until Uncle Fayton comes back to finally decide upon his case, promptly explained Waldo. Of course we ought to have let him die, odd but didn't, we couldn't then, wouldn't now if it was all to do over, so watch him so closely that he can't play tricks even if he wishes. There was nothing better to propose, and though the job promised to be an awkward one to manage, Ixtely himself rendered it more easy. Past all doubt he could understand as well as speak the English language for it took a step in evident submission, speaking gently, Ixtely ready, heart brothers say where go now. Again the brothers felt startled by that quaintly correct accent and almost involuntarily Bruno spoke in turn. You can speak English, when did you learn, and from whom? A still brighter smile irradiated the Aztec's face and turning his eyes towards a secluded valley, he bowed his head as though in deep reverence, then softly, lovingly, almost adoringly responded. She tell me how, Victor Gladdy too, Ixtely no little, not much, his heart feel big for some children all time, so you too, for kill bear like that. Bruno turned a bit paler than usual, catching his breath sharply as he repeated those names. Victor, Gladdy, wasn't it by those names, Victoria, Gladys, that Mr. Edgecomb called his lost ones Waldo? I can't remember, but get a move on old man, the sooner we're back where Uncle Faydon left us, where we can see a bit more of what may be coming, the safer my precious scalp will feel, this engine, no scalp, quickly interposed the Aztec with a deprecatory gesture to match his words, you save Ixtely, Ixtely say no hurt, white brothers, that's so, that's so for truth. Only partially satisfied by this earnest disclaimer of evil intentions, Waldo gripped an arm and hurried the Aztec along, leaving the bear where it had fallen, intent solely upon reaching a comparatively safe outlook, air worse could follow upon the heels of their latest adventure. And Bruno brought up the rear as guard, eyes and rifle ready. CHAPTER 19 THE CHILDREN OF THE SUN GOD No difficulty whatever was experienced in reaching that retreat, and a milder prisoner never knew a guard than Ixtely proved himself to be, silently yielding to each impulse lent his arm by Waldo, smiling when, as sometimes happened, he was brought more nearly face to face with that armed rearguard. Nor were the Gillespie brothers worried by sound, sign, or token, of more serious trouble from others of that strangely surviving race. And it was not long after reaching the rendezvous from which the professor had sailed in the early dawn, that the youngsters agreed the echoes of their winchesters could not have reached the ears of the lost city inhabitants. That's plenty good luck for one soup-bunch, quote Waldo, yet adding a dubious shake of the head as he gazed upon their bronzed companion, and if it wasn't for this gentleman in masquerade costume. Ixtely friend, Ixtely feel like heart-brother, came in low mellow accents from those smiling lips. There certainly was not of guile or of evil craft to be read in either eyes or visage, just then. But then the brothers could not feel entirely at ease even yet. How many times had warriors of his color played a cunning part, only to end all by a blow of tomahawk, thrust of knife or bolt from the bended bow? At a barely perceptible sign from Bruno his brother drew apart, leaving their white elephant by himself, yet nonetheless under a vigilant guard. He seems all right in his way, muttered the elder Gillespie, but how far ought we to trust him after what we promised Uncle Fayton? Not quite as far as we can see him, anyway. Still, a fellow can't find his stomach to ball him over like a hare without a wee bit of excuse at least. That's it. If he tried to bolt or would even jump on one of us it would come far more easy. Look at him smile now, and I hate to think of clapping such a bright-seeming lad in bonds. Time enough for all that when he shows his cause, quickly decided Waldo, with a vigorous nod of his curly pal. Maybe if a couple of us can't keep him out of mischief without going that far? And we want to pump the kid dry before Uncle Fayton gets back, and? Bruno gave a slight start at these words, but his eye glow and face flush bore witness that the idea thus suggested had not been unthought of in his own case. Then you really think? That there's more ways than one of skinning a cat, oracularly observed Waldo. Without showing it to mighty plainly, one of the other of us can always be ready and prepared to dump the laddie buck in case he tries to come any of his dittos. And at the same time we can be hugging up to him just as sweetly as though we knew he was on the dead level. Understand? Possibly the program might have been a little more elegantly expressed, but Waldo as a rule cared more for substance than form, and his speech possessed one merit, that of perspicuity. Having reached this fair understanding the brothers dropped there aside and moved nearer the young Aztec. Ixtly gazed keenly into first one face than the other, plainly enough endeavouring to read the truth as might be expressed therein as related to himself. What he saw must have proved fairly satisfactory since he gave another bright smile than spoke in really musical tones. Good, brother now, that more good too. In spite of the suspicions which seem inborn where people of the Red Rays are concerned, both Bruno and Waldo felt more and more drawn towards this remarkable specimen of a still more remarkable tribe, and not many more minutes had sped by ere the younger couple were chatting together in amicable fashion, although finding some little difficulty in Ixtly's rather limited vocabulary. Not a little to his elder brother's impatience, Waldo apparently took a deeper interest in the recent adventure than in the subject which claimed his own busiest thoughts, but he hardly cared to crowd the youngster lest he make matters even worse. Aided by the sort of freemasonry which naturally exists between lads of an adventurous nature, Waldo readily succeeded in picking up considerable information from the Aztec even before broaching that all-important matter. Ixtly was the only son of a famed warrior and chieftain of the Aztec and clans by name Azotl, or the Red Heron. He, in common with so many of his people, had witnessed the approach and abrupt departure of the strange bird in the air, and had hastened forth in quest of the monster. He failed to see odd more of the strange creature, but disliking to return home without something to show for the trip remained out overnight, then chanced to fairly stumble into the way of a mighty grizzly. There were a few moments during which he might possibly have escaped through headlong flight, but he was too proud for that, and but for the timely arrival and prompt action on the part of his white brothers would almost certainly have paid the penalty with his life. Then followed more thanks and broken expressions of gratitude, all of which Waldo magnanimously waved aside as wholly unnecessary. Don't work up a sweat for a little thing like that, old man. Of course we saw you were an engine, and, I mean, how in time did she happen to catch hold of our lingo, so mighty pat, laddie bike? My brother means to ask, who taught you to speak as we do, exly? Amended Bruno, catching at the wished-for opportunity now it offered. And who was that nice little gal with a yellow hair? Is she, what do you call her, Gladys and the rest of it, Edgecomb? Waldo was eager enough now that the ice was fairly broken, but his very volubility served to complicate matters rather than to hasten the desired information. Exly apparently thought in English pretty much as he spoke it, slowly and with care, when hurried his brain and tongue naturally fell back upon his native language. Sounds issued through his lips, but despite all their animation, these proved to be but empty sounds to the eager brothers. And, dividing the truth, Bruno checked his brother, himself acting as questioner, pretty soon striking the right chord, after which Exly fared very well. Still, thanks to his difficulty in finding the right words with which to express his full meaning, it took both time and patience for even Bruno to learn all he desired and even if such a course would be desirable, lack of space forbids giving a literal record of questions and answers, since the general result of that cross-examination may be put so much more compactly before the generous reader. The first point made clear was that the young Aztec owed his imperfect knowledge of the English language to certain children of the son whom he named as if Christian, Victor and Gladdy. With this as starting point the rest formed a mere question of time and perseverance. Growing in animation as he proceeded, Exly told of the coming to their city of those glorious children, riding upon the wings of an awful storm, yet issuing unharmed, unawed, bright of face as the mighty orb the sons of Anahuac worshipped. He told how an envious few held to the contrary, that these fair skins had come as evil emissaries from still more evil, miglantutli, mighty lord of deathland, who had laden them with pestilence and brain sorrow and eye darkness, with orders to devastate this the last fair city of the ancient race. With low, sternly suppressed tones the young warrior went on to tell of what followed. Of the wicked attempt made by those malcontents to punish the bearers of death and misery, then his voice rising and growing more clear he told how from a clearing sky there came a single shaft flung by the mighty hand of the great god Quetzalcoatl, for which the impious dog went down in everlasting death. Struck by lightning, eh? interrupted Waldo, who seemed born without the influence of poetry. Served him mighty right, too. Bowing submissively, although it could be seen he scarcely comprehended just what those blunt words romantic convey, xtly spoke on, seemingly with perfect willingness so long as the adored son-children formed the subject matter. From his labored statement Bruno gathered that the sudden death of one who had dared to lift an armed hand against the woman so mysteriously placed there in their very midst ought all opposition to the general belief in the divine origin of mother and child, and ere long Victor was installed as a sort of high priestess of the temple more especially devoted to the sun god. That was long ago and when xtly was but a child, as he grew older and his father, Red Heron, was appointed as chief of guards to the son-children, Victor took more notice of the lad and ended in teaching him both the English tongue and its Christian creed, so far as lay in his power to comprehend. Then came less pleasing information concerning the children of the son, which went far to prove that the death of one evil-minded dog had not entirely purged the lost city, and it was with harsher tones and frowning brows that xtly spoke of the head-priest or papa, la copa, the evil-minded who had built up a powerful and dangerous sentiment against both Victor and Gladdy, even going so far as to declare before the holy stone of sacrifice that the mother of gods demanded these falsely titled children of the son. The fair-faced god must come soon or too late! The Aztec, bowing his head in joint palms, the better to conceal his evident grief. He has promised to come, but hurry! They die! They die! This was hardly an acceptable stopping point, but questioning was of little avail just then. Satisfied of so much, the brothers drew apart a short distance, yet keeping where they could guard their more or less dangerous charge, conversing in low tones over the information so far gleaned from the Aztec's talk. Well, we'll hold a tight grip on him anyway, until Uncle Fayton gets back. Finally decided Waldo, speaking for his brother as well. End of chapter 19. Chapter 20. The Professor and the Aztec. Of the lost city. This is LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Lost City. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. Chapter 20. The Professor and the Aztec. Fortunately for all concerned, there proved to be no serious difficulty attached to that same holding. So far as outward semblance went, Ixley was very well content with both present quarters and present companionship. He likewise enjoyed the supper that, aided by a small fire kindled in a depression so low that the light could by no means attract any unfriendly eye, Bruno prepared for them all. And just prior to taking his first taste, the young warrior bowed his head to murmur a few sentences which, past all doubt, had first come to his mind through the wonderful Victor, a simple little blessing which certainly did not add to the dislike or uneasiness with which the brothers regarded their guest. He is white even if he is red, confidentially declared Waldo at his first opportunity, more danger of our spoiling him than he is doing us dirt, and as an honest fact for a quarter-old man. Bruno felt pretty much the same, yet his added years gave him a greater discretion, and in spite of that growing liking he kept a fairly keen watch and ward over the Aztec. After supper they came further questioning and answers, Waldo as a rule playing in quister, eager to learn more annant the strange existence which these people must live so completely hemmed in from all the rest of the world as they surely were in yonder valley. Without at all betraying the exile, Gillespie spoke of the lake and its mighty whirlpool, then learned that the Indians really made a semi-annual of trips, thither for the purpose of laying in a supply of dried fish for the winter's consumption. As the night waned, preparations were made for sleeping, although it was agreed between the brothers that one or the other should stand guard in regular order. Not that I really believe the fellow would play as dirt, even with every chance laid open, Waldo admitted, still it's what Uncle Faden would advise, and we can't well do less than follow his will, Bruno. Since we broke it so completely by tackling the grizzly, with a brief laugh, that's all right, too. Of course we'd ought to have sulked away like a couple of egg-sucking currs, but we didn't, and I'm mightily glad of it, too. For Xley, what a name that is to go to bed with every night, though. For Xley it's just about as why does it make him nowadays? You hear me blow my bazoo? And so the long night wore its length along. The brother was taking turns at keeping watch and ward, but the Aztecs slumbering peacefully through all, looking the least dangerous of all possible captives. And after this light even the cautious Bruno began to regard him ere the first stroke of coming dawn could be seen above the eastern hills. Not being positive just where the airship would put in an appearance since Professor Featherwood had, per force, left that question open to be decided by circumstances over which he might have no control. Each guard, in turn, devoted considerable attention to the upper regions, hoping to glimpse the aerostat and holding matches in readiness, to raise a flare by way of a lighting signal. But it was not until the early dawn that Bruno caught sight of the airship just skimming the treetops, the better to escape observation by any Indian lookout. After that the rest came easily enough. A couple of blazing matches held aloft proved sufficient cue to the Professor, and soon thereafter the flying machine was safely brought to land so gently that the slumbers of the young Aztec were undisturbed. Bruno gave a hasty word of warning and explanation combined even before he extended a welcoming hand towards Mr. Edgecomb, who certainly appeared all the better for his encounter with people of his own race. Professor Featherwood took a keen eager look at the slumbering redskin, then drew silently back to his sprain Bruno's ear. Guard, well, your tongue, lad. I have told him nothing is yet, and we must consult together before breaking the news. For now we have had no rest, so I believe we would better lie down for an hour or two. Mr. Edgecomb appeared to be perfectly willing to do this, and soon the wearied men were wrapped in blankets and sleeping peacefully. Long before their lids unclosed Bruno had an appetizing meal in readiness, although the others had broken fast long before, and xtly his hands tightly clasped behind his back as a childish want to resist temptation was inspecting the airship in odd silence. Taking advantage of this preoccupation Bruno quickly yet clearly explained to his uncle all that had happened, showing that by playing a more prudent part the young warrior must inevitably have perished. Then making sure Cooper Edgecomb was not near enough to catch his words, Bruno told in brief the information gleaned from xtly concerning the children of the son whom he and Waldo more than suspected must be the long lost wife and daughter of the exiled aeronaut. As might have been expected, Professor Fethiwit was deeply stirred by all this, fidgeting nervously while keeping alert ears with difficulty smothering the ejaculations which fought for exit through his lips. After satisfying his craving for food the Professor led the young Aztec apart from the rest of the party, speaking kindly and sympathetically until he had won a fair share of liking for his own, then broaching the subject of the son children. After this it was by no means a difficult matter to get at the seat of trouble, and a little by little Fethiwit satisfied himself that xtly would do all, dare all for the sake of benefiting the woman and maiden who had treated him so kindly. At a covert sign from the Professor Bruno came to join in the talk, and his sympathy made the young Aztec even more communicative. And xtly spoke more at length concerning xtlacopa, the papa, and another enemy whom the children of the son had nearly equal cause to fear, Wan Huatsin, or Prince Hua, chiefest among the mighty warriors of the Aztec and clans. This evil prince had for years past sought Victor for his bride, while his son, Iosetl, tried in vain to win the hard smiles of the fair Gladdy, Victor's daughter, and through revenge for having their suit frowned upon, these wicked naves had joined hands with the priest in trying to drag the son children down from their loft to pedestal. It did not take long questioning or shrewd to convince the Professor that in xtlacopa they could count upon a true and daring supporter in case they should conclude to interfere in behalf of his patroness and teacher, adored Victor. The Professor led the way over to the airship, there producing the clothing and arms once worn by another Aztec warrior, which he had carefully stowed away in the locker, loathed to lose sight of such valuable relics, truly unique as he assured himself at the moment. Bruno gave a little exclamation at sight of the articles, then in eager tones he made known the daring idea which then flashed across his busy brain. We ought to make sure before taking action, Uncle Faten, then why not let me don these clothes and still down into the valley, under cover of darkness to see the ladies end? No, no, my lad! Quickly interrupted the Professor, gripping an arm as so fearful of an instant runaway. That would be too risky, that would be almost suicidal, and no use talking. With an obstinate shake of his head as Bruno attempted to edge in an expostulation, I will never give my consent, never! Or hardly ever, supplied Waldo, coming that way like one who feels the proprieties have been more than sufficiently outraged, give some other person a chance to wag his chin a bit, can't ye, gentlemen? Not that I care to chatter merely for sake of hearing my own voice, but eh? We were considering whether or no to be advisable to take a walk over to the observatory, truly explain the Professor. Of course, if you would rather remain here to watch the aerostat. Let Bruno do that, Uncle! He grew thoroughly disgusted with what he saw over yonder yesterday. Placidly observed the youngster. Waldo, you villain! Well, didn't you vow and declare that you could recognize grace and beauty and all other varieties of attractiveness only in dark brunettes, old man? After feather-wit hastily interposed, lest words be let fall through which Mr. Edgecombe might cash a premature idea of the possible surprise held in store. And shortly afterwards the start was made for the snug covert from whence the lost city had been viewed on prior occasions. Naturally, their rout led them directly past the scene of the bear-fight, where the huge carcass lay as yet undisturbed, and calling forth sundry words of wonder and even admiration through its very ponderosity and now harmless ferocity. Professor feather-wit deemed it his duty to gravely reprove his words for their rash conduct. Yet something in his twinkling eyes and in the kindly touch of his bony hand told a far different tale. His anger took the shape of pride and of hard love. In two course of time the look-out was won, and without delay the savant turned his field-glass upon the temple, which appeared to appertain to the so-called son-children. But not a little taste chagrin, the azotea was utterly devoid of human life. With that disappointment was of brief existence. For almost as though his action was a signal for which they had been waiting, mother and daughter came slowly into view, arm in arm clad in robes of snowy white, with their luxuriant locks flowing loose as upon former occasions. Both lads, three of them to be more exact, gave low exclamations of eager interest as though shapes came in sight, while even Cooper Edgecump gazed with growing interest upon the scene, wholly unsuspecting though he was as yet. A slight nod from the professor warned the brothers to stand ready in case of need, then he offered the exile the glass, begging him to inspect yonder fair women upon the Tioca Lily. The glass was leveled and held firmly for a half minute, then the exile gave a choking cry, gasping ere he fell as once smitten by death. MERCIFAL HEAVENS! MY WIFE! MY CHILD! DISCUSSING WAYS AND MEANS In good measure prepared for some such result, in case their expectations should prove true, friendly hands at once closed upon the exile, hurrying him back and still more completely under cover as quickly as might be. Cooper Edgecump seemed as wax in their hands, not utterly deprived of consciousness, but rather like one dazed by some totally unexpected blow. He made not the slightest resistance yielding to each impulse given, shivering and weak as one just rallying from an almost mortal illness. Yet there came an occasional flash to his eyes which warned the wary professor of impending trouble, and as quickly as might be the stunned aeronaut was removed from the point of observation, taken by short stages back to the spot where rested the flying machine. Ixley seemed something odd by this to him, inexplicable conduct on the part of the gaunt limped stranger, but gave his newfound friends neither trouble nor cause for worry, bearing them company and even lending a hand whenever he thought it might be needed. The Gillespie brothers were far more deeply stirred as was natural, but even Waldo contrived to keep a fair guard over his at times unruly member, speaking but little during that retreat. With each minute that elapsed, Cooper Edgecump gained in bodily powers, and while his mental strength was slower to respond, that proved to be a blessing rather than otherwise. The rendezvous was barely gained ere he gave a hoarse cry of reviving memory, then strove to break away from that friendly care, calling wildly for his wife, his daughter, fancying them in some dire peril from which alone his arms could preserve them. It was a painful scene as well as a trying one that which followed closely, and respite only came after bonds had been applied to the limbs of the madmen, for such Cooper Edgecump assuredly was just then. There were tears in the professor's eyes as he strove hardest to soothe the sufferer, assuring him that his loved ones should be restored to his arms, yet repeatedly reminding him that any rash action taken then must almost certainly work against their better interests. The exile grew less violent, but that was more through physical exhaustion than ought else, and what had, from the very first, appeared a difficult enigma now looked far worse. Only when fairly well assured that the sufferer would not attract unwelcome attention their way through two boisterous shouting to the professor draw far enough away for quiet consultation with his nephews. Mr. Edgecump was deposited within the airship, secured in such a manner that it would be well nigh impossible for him to do either himself or the machine material injury no matter how violent he might become, and hence, in case of threatened trouble from the inmates of the lost city, flight would not be seriously hindered through caring for him. Professor Featherwitt now gleaned from his nephews pretty much all they could tell him concerning sights and events since his departure in quest of the exile. That proved to be very little more than he had already learned, and contained still less which seemed of a special benefit to that particular enigma awaiting solution. True, Waldo suggested that icsly be employed as a medium of communication between the sun children and themselves, but possibly because, as a rule, this irrepressible youngster's ideas were generally the wildest and most far-fetched imaginable uncle Feathern frowned upon the plan. No, the young Aztec might prove true at heart even as indications went, but the risk of so trusting him would prove far too great. That's just because you haven't known and slept with him like we have, declared Waldo. He's red on the outside, but he's got just as wide a soul as the best of us, bar none. Bruno likewise appeared to think well of the young brave, and suggested an amendment to Waldo's motion, that he accompany icsly into the sunken valley, covered by the friendly shades of night, there to open communication with the sun children. By so doing we could make certain of their identity. The young men argued earnestly. That, it appears to me, is the first step to be taken. For in spite of the apparent recognition by Mr. Edgecomb, it is possible that no actual relationship exists. What of that? Pluntly cutting the younger Gillespie. Don't you reckon strangers would like to take a little walk just as well as any other people? Patience, my lad, interposed the professor. While we seem in duty bound to lend aid and assistance to women in actual distress, we can only serve them with their own free will and accord, granting that the women we saw upon the Tioca Lily were other than those believed by our afflicted friend. But, uncle, look at their names, and don't icsly say, tell them all over again, partner, won't you? Urged Waldo, taking a burning interest in the matter, as was his custom when fairly involved. The young Aztec complied as well as lay within his power, giving it as his fixed opinion, that sore trouble if not actual peril awaited the children of the sun, unless assisted by powerful friends. He spoke of the mighty chieftain, Prince Huwah, and of the High Priest, Dlacopah, who was, to all seeming, playing directly into the hands of that sin. He say, mother of God's, call loud. He say, sacrifice, and that, no, no, quetzal sent, quetzal save, must save Victor Gladdy. Further questioning resulted in but little more information, though, as icsly grew calmer, he emphasized such statements as he had already made, elaborating them a trifle. And by this his questioners learned that, humanly speaking, the fate of the sun God's children depended almost entirely upon the whim or fancy of the chief paba of the Teokalili. Through Dlacopah issued the awesome oracles, and when his voice thundered forth, the dread fired, who dared to openly rebel. Further questioning brought forth one more important fact, that there was absolutely no hope of either Victor or Gladdy coming forth from the valley, either by night or by day. While ostensibly free of will as they were of limb, neither woman was permitted to leave yonder temples save under armed escort, and guards were on duty each hour of the day and night. But we could get to see and speak with them icsly, asked Bruno, eager to reach some fair understanding as to the future course of action. Yes, why'd brother go with icsly? came the hesitating reply, but then the Aztec caught one of Gillespie's hands, holding it in close contrast to his own brown paw, shaking his head doubtingly. No like, keen eyed them people, watch close, find another white skin bad. You hear that, Bruno? Asked the professor, really relieved at such positive evidence in conflict with a rash proposition made by the young man. Of course I thought of going under cover of the night, uncle, and sure it would not be such a difficult matter to darken my face and hands, with dirt if nothing better can be found, and if I wore the clothes you brought from the cavern, uncle Fayton. That's the ticket! Broken Waldo eagerly. Why, in a rig like that I could turn the trick my own self. The consultation was broken off at this juncture by a faint summons from Cooper Edgecomb, and Professor Featherwitt was only too glad of the excuse, hurrying over to the flying machine, demanding to his great joy that the exile was now far more like his old time self. Still, great caution was used in revealing all, and it was not until considerably later in the day that Mr. Edgecomb felt capable of taking part in the discussion of ways and means. He declared that his recognition had been complete in spite of the long years which had elapsed, since losing sight of his dear ones, and he earnestly vowed to never give over until their rescue was affected, or he had lost his life while making the attempt. While the two air voyagers were thus engaged in talk, Bruno silently stole away with xtly, taking a bundle along, and leaving Waldo to throw their uncle off the track in case his suspicions should be prematurely awakened. Then side by side, two Indian braves silently approached the aerostat, causing Professor Featherwitt to make a hasty dive for his dynamite gun to repel a fensit onslaught. Sold again, and who comes next? Merrily exploded Waldo, dancing about in high glee, as the supposed red skin slowly turned around for inspection before speaking in familiar tones. Would there be such an enormous risk of discovery, Uncle Featherwitt, provided I put lock and seal upon my lips, save for the ladies? That experiment proved to be a complete success, and after Cooper Edgecomb added his pathetic pleadings to the young man's own arguments, Professor Featherwitt gradually gave way, though still with reluctance. I could never find forgiveness should harm come to your mother's son-boy. He huskly murmured, his arms stealing about Bruno's middle. I'd far rather venture myself, and why not, pray? As Waldo burst into an involuntary laugh. Then he turned upon xtly, a hand resting upon each shoulder while he gazed keenly into those lustrous dark orbs for a full minute in perfect silence. Then he spoke, slowly, gravely. Can we trust you, friend? Would you sell the boy to his arm you owe your own life onto his enemies? Would you lead him blindly to his death xtly, son of Azotl? A wandering gaze, then the Indian appeared to flush hotly. He shook of those far from steady hands, drawing his knife and with free fingers tearing open his dress above the heart. Thrusting the weapon into Bruno's hand he spoke in clear distinct accents. Strike hard, white brother! Open heart! See if all black! I to eye the two youths stood for a brief space in silence, then the weapon was let fall, and Bruno gripped the Indian's hand and shook it most cordially. Strike you xtly! I just as soon smite my brother by birth. And that's mighty right, too! cried Waldo, impetuously. I really begin to believe that you are all in the right, while I alone am left in the wrong. Frankly admitted, the Professor. End of Chapter XXI. CHAPTER XXII. A daring undertaking of the lost city. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Lost City by Joseph E. Badger Jr. CHAPTER XXII. A daring undertaking. Still, that point was of too vital importance to justify hasty decision, and the Professor did not make his surrender complete until the shades of another night were beginning to gather over the land. In the meantime, partly for the purpose of keeping the youngsters employed and thus out of the way of less harmless things, the Professor suggested that the huge grizzly be flayed. If the proposed scheme should really be undertaken, that mighty pelt if uncomfortable to convey would serve as a fair excuse for the young braves as yet unexplained absence from the lost city. As a matter of course, Cooper Edgecomb felt intense anxiety through all, but he contrived to keep fair mastery over his emotions, readily admitting that he himself could do not towards visiting the lost city. I know that my loved ones are yonder. I would joyfully suffer ten thousand deaths by torture for the chance to speak one word to them, and yet I know any such attempt would prove fatal to us all, the mere sight of I could go crazy with joy. There is no necessity for repeating the various arguments used, pro and con, before the final agreement was reached. Enough has already been put upon record, and the result must suffice. Professor Featherwood yielded the vital point, and having once fairly expressed his fears and doubts, flung his whole heart into perfecting the disguise which was now counted upon to carry Bruno safely into and out of yonder city. He was carefully tricked out in the war-like uniform secured by Cooper Edgecomb at the cost of a human life, and with fresh stain applied to his face and hands, the slight moustache he wore was not dangerously perceptible. To take a strong light and mighty keen eyes to see it at all, and even if a body should happen to notice it, he had reckoned to spit of smut, or the like, generously declared Waldo. After less trying circumstances Bruno might have answered in kind, but now he merely smiled at the gesture, then turned again to receive the earnest cautions, let fall for his benefit by the professor. Above all else he was to steer clear of fighting, and without he saw a fair chance of winning speech with the white women, he was to keep in such hiding as xtly might furnish, trusting the young Aztec to post the children of the sun as to what was in the wind. Timeless, almost incapable of coherent speech, so intense was his agitation, Cooper Edgecomb sent many messages to his loved ones, begging for one word in return, and if nothing less would serve. His voice choked, and only his feverishly burning eyes could say the rest. It was well past sunset ere the youngsters set forth from the rendezvous, accompanied a short distance by both Waldo and the professor, but the parting came in good time. It would be worse than folly to add to the existent perils that of possible discovery by some prowling Aztec who might work serious injury to them one and all. That great bear-hide proved a tax upon their strength, even though the bullet-riddled headpiece had been carefully cut off and buried, lest those queer holes tell a risky tale on close examination, but xtly as well as Bruno was a born by an exaltation such as neither had known before this hour. There was nothing worse than the natural obstacles in the way to be overcome, and knowing every square yard of ground so thoroughly xtly chose the most practicable route to that hill in circled town. The stony path was followed to the lower level, and the young adventurers had drawn fairly near the first buildings, ere encountering a living being, and then ample time was given them for meeting the danger. A low-voiced call sounded upon the night-air, and xtly responded in much the same tone. Bruno, of course, was utterly in the dark as to what was being said, but he still held perfect faith in his copper-hued guide and left all to the son of Azodl. The Aztec brave appeared to be explaining his unusually protracted absence, for he proudly displayed the great grizzly pelt, and then exhibited the spearhead from which protruded the tooth-marked wound. Like one who was already familiar with the details, Bruno slowly lounged forward a pace or two, then in silence awaited the pleasure of his companion on that night-jaunt. xtly was not many minutes in shaking off the Indian, and almost staggering beneath his shaggy burden moved away as though in haste to rejoin his family's circle. Finally for the venture the Aztecans appeared to believe in the maxim of going to bed early, for there were very few individuals astir at that hour, young though the evening still was, and by the clear moonlight which fell thwart the valley, it was no difficult task to catch sight before being seen, where eyes so busy as those of the two young men were concerned. Only once were they forced to make a brief detour in order to escape meeting another red-skin, and then a guarded whisper from the lips of the Aztec warned Bruno that they were almost at the Theokalili, wherein the children of the sun made their home and abiding place. Leaving the grizzly pelt at a corner for the time being xtly led his white friend up and into the temple of the sun, pressing a hand by way of added caution. Although he had declared that an armed guard was kept night and day over the sun-children, and that he hoped to pass Bruno as well as himself without any serious difficulty, since he had long been a favorite visitor, and ever welcomed by Victor and Gladdy, the temple was seemingly without such protection upon the present occasion. xtly expressed great surprise when this fact became evident, and he showed uneasiness as to the welfare of his beloved patroness and kindly teacher. Surely something evil was impending. His father, Azatl, was chieftain of the guards and wholly devoted to the sun-children, ready at all times to risk life in their behalf. Now, if the usual guards were lacking, surely it portended evil, treachery no doubt, at the bottom of which the paba and the tin almost certainly lurked. All this xtly contrived to convey to Bruno, who fairly well shared that anxiety, but who was more far going ahead with a bold rush to learn the worst as quickly as might be. Still unfamiliar with the construction of the temple as he was, Bruno felt helpless without his guide, and so timed his progress by that of xtly, right hand tightly gripping the handle of his handwood or maquawidl, resolved to give a good account of either of those rascally varlots in case trouble lay ahead. Leon wanted desolation which appeared to reign on all sides was plainly troubling the Aztec brave, and he seemed to suspect a cunning ambuscade judging from his slow advance, pausing at nearly every step to bend ear in keen listening. Still nothing was actually seen or heard until after the young men reached the upper elevation, upon a portion of which the son children had been first sighted by the air voyagers. Here the first sound of human voices was heard, and Bruno stopped short in obedience to the almost fierce grip which xtly closed upon his nearest arm, listening for a brief space, then breathing lowly. We see first, that good, him see first, that bad. I, ear, to both, you know, brother? You mean, that we are to listen and play spy, first xtly? Asked Bruno, scarcely catching the real meaning of those hurried words. Yes, that best, come, step like snowfall's brother. Who is it first? Victor, she won. Other man, not no sure, but think what's in, he bad, all bad. Kill him some day, that good, plenty good all over. This grim vow appeared to do the astic good from a mental point of view, and then he led his white friend silently, towards the covered part of the Tuakalili, from whence those sounds emanated. Curtains of thick stuff served to shut in the light and to partly smother the sound of voices, but xtly cautiously formed a couple of peep holes of which they quickly made good use. A portion of the sacred fire was burning upon its special altar, while a large lamp formed of baked clay was suspended from the roof, shedding a fair light around, as well as perfuming the enclosure quite agreeably. Almost directly beneath this hanging lamp stood the two children of the sun, one tall, stately, almost queenly, of stature, and now looking unusually impressive, as she seemed to act as shield for her daughter, sleighter, more yielding, but ah, how lovely a face and calmly of person. Even then Bruno could not help realizing those facts, although his ears were tingling sharply with the harsh accents falling from a far different pair of lips. Those of a tall muscular warrior, whose form was gorgeously arrayed in featherwork and cunning weaving, rich hewed dyes having been called to aid the other arts, as well. If this was actually the Prince Hua, then he was a most brutal sample of Aztec and aristocracy, and at first sight, Gillespie felt a fierce hatred for the harsh tone chieftain. As a matter of course, Bruno was unable to comprehend just what was being said, thanks to his complete ignorance of the language employed, but he felt morally certain that ugly threats were passing through those thin lips, and even so soon his hands began to itch and his blood to glow, both urging him to the rescue. Swiftly fell the reply made by Victor, and her words must have stung the Prince to the quick, since he uttered a savage cry, drawing back an arm as though to smite that proudly beautiful face with his hard-clenched fist. That proved to be the cap-shift, for Bruno could stand no more. He dashed aside the heavy curtain as he leaped forward, giving a stern cry as he came, swinging the war-club over his shoulder to strike with all vengeance at the startled and recoiling Aztecan. Only the young man's unfamiliarity with the weapon preserved Prince Hua from certain death, as it was he reeled to fall in a nervous heap upon the floor, while with a startled cry another Aztec broke away in flight. End of Chapter 22 Chapter 23 A Flight Underground of the Lost City This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Lost City by Joseph E. Badger, Jr. Chapter 23 A Flight Underground That sudden appearance and flight of another man took xtly even more by surprise than it did Bruno, for he never even suspected such a possibility, knowing Prince Hua so well. Still, the young brave was swift to rally, swift to pursue, sending a menace of certain death in case the fleeing curse should not yield himself. Just then Bruno had eyes and thoughts for the son-children alone, who quite naturally shrunk back and mingled surprise and alarm at his unceremonious entrance. He forgot his disguise, forgot everything save that before him stood the fair beings whom he had vowed to save at all hazards from what appeared to him worse by far than actual death. Gillespie never knew just what words crossed his lips during those first few seconds, but he saw that the women in place of eagerly, accepting his aid, were visibly shrinking, apparently more alarmed than delighted, with the opportunity thus offered. Doubtless this was caused mainly by that odd blending of Aztec and Paleface, the color and garb of the one joined to the tongue of the other, but the result might have been even worse, had not xtly hastened back to clear up more matters than one. In spite of his utmost efforts the second Indian had escaped with life, although he received a glancing wound from an arrow as he plunged down towards the lower level, and nothing seemed more certain than that an alarm would right speedily spread throughout the town, if only for the purpose of hurrying succor to the Lord Hua. All this rolled in swift words over xtly's lips, his warning finding completion before either of the women could fairly interrupt the unbrave, but then the one whom xtly termed Victor spoke rapidly in his musical tongue, one strong wide hand waving towards the now somewhat embarrassed Chillespie. He, friend, come save you, like save xtly. The Aztec hurriedly made reply, with generous tact speaking so that Bruno could comprehend as well as the women. He good, all good, papa bad, tin more bad, be worse bad if stay here, Victor Gladdy. Thus giving the proper cue, Bruno took fresh courage and in as few words as might be explained his mission. He spoke the name of Cooper Edgecomb, and for the first time that queenly woman showed signs of weakness, staggering back with a faint choking gasp, one hand clasped spasmodically above her madly throbbing heart, the other rising to her temples as though in fear of coming insanity. He is well, he is safe and longing for his loved ones. Bruno swiftly added, producing the brief note which the exiled aeronaut had pressed into his hand at almost the last moment. He wrote you that, here it is, and make hurry quick, sharply interposed xtly as ominous sounds began to arise without the temple of the sun god. Don't get away, how for more? Come here, kill like gods be glad. With an evident effort Victor rallied, tones far from steady as she begged both young men to save themselves without thought of them. I thank you, heaven alone knows how overjoyed I am to hear from my dear husband, my poor child's own father, and he is near too. But go, go, God and protect him xtly for, go I implore you sir. But how? We haven't arranged how you are to be rescued and I must understand. Later then, another time, through xtly, interrupted Mrs. Edgecomb since there could no longer be a doubt as to her identity. If found here it will be our ruin as well as your own. Go, and at once I fear that Lord Hua may, he live yet, pronounced xtly, rising from a hasty examination of the fallen chieftain, that bad, much more worse bad, he dog all over dog. And I greatly fear he must have recognized you as one of a foreign race in spite of your disguise. Added the elder woman trouble in her face, even as it showed in her voice, he will be wild for revenge and I fear. Go, and directly xtly. Bruno Gillespie was only too well assured that this latest fear had foundation on truth. Swiftly, though he had wielded the awkward to him, hand would, Watson had sufficient time to cite his assailant and almost certainly had divined at least a portion of the truth. Doubtless it would have been the more prudent course to repeat that blow with greater precision, but Bruno could not bring himself to do just that, even though the ugly cries were growing in volume on the ground level, and he felt that capture would be but the initial step to death, in all likelihood upon the great stone of sacrifice. Eminent, though their peril surely was, Bruno could not but take himself to flight without at least partially performing the duty for which he had volunteered, and so he took time to hurriedly utter, watch from the top of the tower for the airship, and be ready to leave at any moment. I implore you both. For even now his admiring gaze could, with difficulty, be torn away from yonder younger, even more lovely visage, although as yet the maiden had spoken no word, even shrinking away from this strangely speaking Aztec as though in a fright. Come, brother, or too late, urge xtly, almost sternly. Save you, or glass eyes, call xtly, doglier. Come, must run, no fight, too big many for that. And so it seemed when the young men rushed away from the lighted interior and gained the uncovered space beyond, loud cries came soaring through the night from different directions, and dim phantom-like shapes could be glimpsed in hurrying confusion. Apparently the majority only knew the trouble of some description was brewing, and that the center of interest was either in or near the temple of the sun god, yet that was more than sufficient to place the white intruder in great peril, despite the elaborate disguise he wore. Then, with awful abruptness, there came a sound which could only be likened to rolling thunder by one initiated, un-initiated, but which caused xtly to shrink and almost cower, air gasping. The great wardrobe! Now, must go! Sacrifice have caught! Come, white brother, see that more bad now! Those mighty throbs rolled and reverberated from the hills, filling the night air with waves of thunder, nonetheless awe inspiring now that their true import was realized. The entire population was aroused, and each building seemed to cast forth an armed host, while as through some magic touch, a circle of fire sprung on all sides, beginning to illumine both valley and barrier. Bruno stood like one appalled, really fascinated by this transformation scene for which he had been so poorly prepared, but xtly, better comprehended their situation and gripping an arm he muttered hastily. Come, brother, stop more, make too late! Must hide now! That stop-go-back-way came! Come! Bruno aroused himself with an effort then yielded to the Aztec's guidance, crouching low as the brief bit of clear moonlight had to be traversed. Instead of making for the steps, which as customary reached from terrace to terrace at each corner, xtly crept to the center, where the temple-side was cast into deepest shadow, then lowered himself by his arms to drop silently to the broad path below. A whispered word urged Bruno to imitate this action, and those friendly hands caught and said at Gillespie as he took the drop. And so one after another the mighty steps were passed, both young men reaching the ground at the same instant, having succeeded in leaving the temple of the sun god without being glimpsed by an Indian of all those whom the Sonoros drum throbs had brought forth in arms. Wither now. Asked Bruno in guarded tones as he looked forth from shadow into moonlight, seeing scores upon scores of armed shapes flitting to and fro, all looking for the enemy yet none able to precisely locate the trouble. Just then a savage yell broke from the top of the temple, followed by a few fierce sounding sentences, which xtly declared came from the Lord Hua, then adding, He say, kill if catch, but dad, no, come on, brother, xtly show how playful that dog, yes. All right, my hearty. Is it a break for the hills? I reckon I can break through. If not, well, I'll leave some marks behind me anyway. No, no, that bad. Can't go to hills, must hide. Positively declare the young Aztec, come now, me show good place, all dead but we. Evidently trusting to pass undetected where so many others were rushing back and forth in seeming confusion, xtly broke away from the shadow of the temple, closely followed by Gillespie, heading as directly as might be for the strange refuge which he now had in mind. That proved to be a low, unpretending structure, which was, of no great extent, so far as Bruno's hasty look could ascertain. Still, that was not the time for doubting the wisdom of his guide, nor a moment in which to discuss either methods or means, and as xtly passed through a massive entrance, the pale face followed, giving a little shiver as the barrier swung to behind them. What sort of a place is it, anyway xtly? He demanded, but the Aztec was too hurried for words just then, save enough to warn his companion in peril that they must descend deeper into the earth. It was more of a scramble than a deliberate descent, for the gloom was complete and Bruno had no time in which to feel for steps or stairs. Only for the aiding touch of his guide he must have taken more than one awkward tumble air that lower level was attained. Then a breathing spell was granted him, and while xtly bent ear in listening to discovery of pursuit was being made, Bruno drew a match from the liberal supply he had taken the precaution to fetch along, and striking it, held aloft the tiny torch to view their present surroundings. Only to give an involuntary start and cry as he caught indistinct glimpses of fleshless bones and grinning skulls, those grim relics of mortality showing upon every side as his wild eyes roved around. Then a hand struck down the match, and a swift voice breathed, they come this way, see us hide, come hunt, now to kill, and of chapter 23. Chapter 24 The Sun Children's Peril of the Lost City This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Lost City by Joseph E. Badger Jr. Chapter 24 The Sun Children's Peril Not until the two young men passed beneath those heavy curtains did either one of the sun children really give thought to their own possible peril, but stood close together, arm of mother about daughter as they listened to the ominous sounds without so rapidly growing in force and number. Then just as the deep tones of the wardrobe boomed forth upon the night air, the fallen Aztec betrayed signs of rallying wits, giving a low sound which might have been grown of pain or curse of baffled rage. Be that as it may, the sound served one purpose, Victoria Edgecomb, to append her correct name for the first time, drew her child farther away, her right hand reaching forth to pluck a light yet effective spear from where it lay against the wall. Mother, mother, faintly panted the maiden, plainly at a loss to comprehend all that had so recently transpired. What is it? What does it all mean? Surely that was xtly and the other. A messenger from your father, child, and my father, I thought he's not dead. Thanks be to heaven not dead, with hysterical joy in face as in voice. Alive and seeking us Gladys, coming to rescue us from this death in life, and now, to your knees, my daughter, to thy knees and lift thanks unto the good father who has at last listened to my moans. Again the wardrobe boomed forth in an awesome roll, but all unheeding that ominous sound, paying no attention to the stirring of Yonder Savage, whose lacerated scalp was painting his face a deeper red than even nature intended. Mother and daughter sank to their knees, lifting hands and hearts towards the all-powerful, even as their gratitude floated towards the throne of grace. Then arose the hoarse tones of Huatzin, bidding his allies find and slay without mercy, cursing the treacherous Aztec who had thus guided one of a strange tribe into the very heart of their beloved city. With a short fierce ejaculation, Victo sprang to her feet, right hand once again grasping shaft of Javelin, its copper point gleaming rudely in the rays of lamp, as though already moistened by the heart-blood of Yonder Villain. Far differently acted the maiden, her figure trembling with fear and wonder commingled, her lips slightly blanched as she clung closer to her mother, yet through all ran a touch of girlish curiosity which helped shape the words, now crossing her lips. Who was it, mother? Who could the stranger be? And with her has he gone. With Ixley, my child, and may the good God of our own people grant them both life and liberty, if I thought your father Gladys, alive and looking for his beloved ones, see, from his own dear hand, and he says, hold, who comes there? But the alarm appeared to be without actual foundation, for the sounds came no closer, remaining beyond the drapery past which Lord Huwah had staggered only a few brief seconds before. Gladys rallied more speedily than one might have expected, and she spoke with even greater interest than at first. My dear father, and alive! Oh mother, why is he not here, too? Why should he send another? And that one, he spoke our dear language, mother. Surely he is not, not as Ixley. No, he was of our own people, child, and I can hardly conceive how he came hither, save that Ixley must have acted as guide. Those awful warriors, shivering as the war cries followed the muffled roar of the great drum, if found, he will be slain. Do you think there is any hope for him, mother? And he seemed so, so. He is gone with Ixley, and Ixley is true to the very core. Victor hastened to give assurance. I would rather trust him than many another of thrice's years and warlike experience. Ixley is true, I, as true and tried as his father, Azodl. Who loves you, mother, and would win, hush, child, just a bit sharply interposed, the elder woman, yet at the same time tightening, that loving clasp, merely as the daughter of his son-god, Quetzalcoatl, and, ah, once again there came the echoes of rapid footfalls beyond the heavy draperies, and again this Amazonian mother drew her superb form in front of her shrinking child, poisoning the javelin in redness for stroke or casting as might serve best. A strong arm brushed the curtains, aside sufficiently to admit its owner's passage, but the armed warrior stopped short at sighting the son-children, his proud head lowering, hands crossing over his broad bosom in token of adoration, for it surely was more than mere submission to one held his superior. With a low cry, Victor drew back a bit, weapon lowering as she recognized friend in place of enemy. It is you, Azadl? She spoke in mellow tones. I thought, did you remove the usual guards this evening? The blame falls to my share, son-child. The red heron made answer, with a meekness strange in one of his build and general appearance, that of a king among ordinary warriors. Not justly, nor through fault of your own, my good and true friend. The elder woman made haste to give assurance, not even that lipshell speaks land of Azadl the true heart to my brother. With a swift advance the red heron caught the unarmed hand to bend over it until his lips barely brushed, the soft perfumed skin. Then he sank to one knee, bowing his head until his brow touched the floor beneath her sandaled feet. Swiftly, gracefully these movements were made, and where they would have appeared fulsome or degraded in some, with this warrior the effect was far from disagreeable to see or to experience. Victor flushed warmly and drew back a little farther, for the memory of those words let fall by gladness came back with unpleasant distinctness. And was she so certain that Azadl looked upon her as merely a god-descended priestess? The red heron arose easily, head rising proudly above his shapely shoulders, as he met those great blue eyes, eyes as pure and as fathomless as the cloudless sky in midsummer. And then, more like one giving a bare statement of facts, than one offering a defence for himself, Azadl spoke of a faithless subordinate who was guilty of either careless neglect or worse. It may be that Tisgadl lost his wits through strong waters, son child, or even that he took evil pay from still more vile hands. You have seen the last of him, though, child of Quetzadl. You surely do not mean that! Azadl lightly tapped the knife hilt showing above his maxed ladle, coldly adding words to that significant gesture. There is no place for fool or traitor upon the bodyguard of the son-children. Tisgadl sinned, he has paid full forfeit, and just so shall all others perish who dare cast an evil glance towards— Ha! Another outcry arose from the other side of the curtain recess, and the red heron instantly sprang away in that direction, hands gripping weapons in redness for instant use in case of need. Almost as swiftly, Victor and the maiden followed, one through fear, the other through utter lack of fear for herself. Those savage cries came from the lips of none other than the chieftain, whose now bare head bore significant traces of Bruno Gillespie's handiwork, and he seemed bent on rushing directly into the presence of the son-children, until red heron interposed, stern and icy-toned. Stand back, my Lord Hua! He ordered, left hand advanced with open palm, but its dexter mate armed and ready, for hot work if that must come. Venture no closer on thy peril, chief. Watson recoiled a bit, though that might have been more through surprise than because he feared this proud warrior. He gripped his knife-hilt, and partly drew the blade from its supporting sash. A hissing oath escaped his lips, and he crouched trifle, as a wild beast gathers its deadliest force prior to making a death leap. Darius thou bar my path, azodl? He cried hoarsely. Make way, I bid thee. Make way, for I will see the son-children, and— Not so, my Lord Hua! Coldly interrupted the master of guards, that warning palm still turned to the front. You are here without law or leave, and know what the edict says. From the going to the return of the son, these stones are sacred from all feet, save those of the son-children and their regular bodyguard. What can I for laws, or for such as thou, red heron, I will that such a thing shall be, and it comes to pass, and thou dare to bar my way, azodl? I, by words if they prove sufficient, by force if called for, by death if worst must come, even the death of a mighty chieftain, like Lord Hua, would not be too great a feat. For a brief space, it seemed as though Huatzin would make a leap too, which there would be but one termination, death to one or to both, but azodl coldly spoke on. I have given you fair and friendly warning, Lord Hua. Go now, while the path of peace lies open. Go, else I sound the call, and my guard will take you in charge, just as they would any other rascally intruder. Your precious son, for instance, retorted that zin viciously. He came with one whom, one of a different race from our own, azodl, a traitor in thy known family, yet thou darest hint at— azodl lifted a bent finger to his lips, sounding a shrill, far penetrating whistle. The response was prompt indeed, an armed force advancing with weapons held ready, awaiting only word from commander, to punish that rash intruder by hurling him to death over the terraces. Although nearly beside himself with fury, Watson glare defiant at both guard and its commander, then turned more directly upon the son-children, speaking in savage tones. On to you, proud Victor, I'll either win you as my— Go on, Lord Hua. Coldly spoke the woman as his voice choked. I'll win and wear you as my squaw, or else give you to the stone of sacrifice. He snarled, then turned away as azodl motioned his guards to clear the temple of all intruders, then see that none other dared enter. Waldo goes fishing. It was with stronger forebodings, then he dared acknowledge, even to himself, that Professor Featherwood watched the two young men out of sight in the early gloom and scarcely had his nephew passed, beyond hearing, then Uncle Fayton would gladly have recalled Bruno. Waldo made light of all fears, prophesying complete success, and even going so far as to predict Bruno's return accompanied by the children of the sun, enthusiastic words which set the exile to trembling with excess of joy and anticipation. What then was the blank dismay of all when, floating through the night, came the hollow throbbing of yonder mighty wardrobe, fetching each person to his feet and holding him spellbound for the first few seconds. Cooper Edgecomb turned sick at heart, even while ignorant as to the method of sending forth that alarm, his hollow groan being the first sound to follow the simultaneous exclamation, which burst from three pairs of lips as the surprise came. And but a breath later, Waldo broke forth with the excited query. What is it? What's broken loose now? Surely thunder! Only Professor Featherwood at once recognized the sound through description, and each one of those swiftly succeeding strokes seemed falling upon his heart, bidding him mourn for his beloved nephew, upon whom his aged eyes had surely looked their last in this life. Yet it was the Professor who took prompt action, speaking sharply as he darted across to where the airship rested. Come, get aboard and let us do what lies in our power. It was criminal to send the poor lad into the jaws of death, but now, hasten, there may be a chance, even yet. The call was still hot upon his lips, when his two companions entered the aerostat, gripping tight the handrail as Professor Featherwood sent the vessel afloat with reckless haste. As by a miracle they escaped a disaster through rushing into a bushy treetop, and that fact served to steady the aeronaut's nerves. On guard, Uncle Feighton! cried Waldo, making a lucky snatch at his cap, which one of the stiff boughs brushed off his head. Aye, aye, lad! responded the men at the guiding gear, as the airship shot onward and upward, now heading as directly as was practicable for the lost city of the Aztecs. That was the very lesson I needed. I am study of nerve now, and will show no lack. Heaven grant that we may not be for ever too late, though. What do you reckon could have kicked up such a barbarie, Uncle, and what—ugh! As the wardrums throbbing against swelled forth in grim alarm. What in time is that, anyway? As briefly as might be the Professor explained, and almost for the first time Waldo felt a thrill of dread. If they've got Bruno, what will they do with him? That very dread was worrying Uncle Feighton, and already, through his busy brain, were flashing horrid pictures of punishment and sacrifice, of hideous scenes of torture wherein the eldest son of his dead sister played a prominent role per force. He dared not trust his tongue to make answer, just then, and sent the aeromotor onward at top speed, leaning far forward to win the earliest blimps of—what? He caught sight of blazing beacons fairly encircling the lost city, forming a cordon through which no stranger could hope to pass unseen. He beheld hundreds of armed shapes rushing to and fro, plainly looking for some intruder or other enemy, yet almost as certainly failing as yet to make the longed-for discovery. Not until that moment had Uncle Feighton dared indulge in even the shadow of a hope. The awful alarm seemed to prove conclusive that poor Bruno had been taken through the treachery of Ixley. Naturally enough that was his first belief, but now, as the airships slackened pace to circle more deliberately above the valley, all eyes on the eager watch for either Bruno or something to hint at his fate, Professor Feather would lost a portion of that conviction. If Bruno had indeed fallen victim to misplaced confidence, and had been craftily lured into this den of ravening wild beasts, why all this confusion and mad scurry, why had not the traitor first made sure of his victim, why such a general alarm? Although such haste in getting afloat had been made, some little time had been thus consumed, and before the aerostat was fairly above the lost city, Bruno and Ixley had dropped by stages down the shadowed side of the Temple of the Sun God to burrow underneath the ground as their surest method of eluding pursuit. Only for that the end might have been different, for, once sighted, Gillespie would have been rescued by his friends or those friends would surely have shared death with him. And so it came to pass that, circle though they might, calling ears to supplement their eyes, swooping perilously low down in their fierce eagerness to sight their imperiled one, never a glimpse of the young man could they obtain, nor even a definite hint as to where next to look for him. Surely they cannot have captured Bruno as yet, huskily muttered Uncle Feighton, hungrily straining his eyes without reward. If the poor boy had actually fallen into such evil hands, why such crazy confusion? Why, oh, why did I permit his coaxing to overpower my better judgment? Why did I send him into—the words stuck in his throat and refused to issue. Feighton Featherwood just then felt himself little less than a cold-blooded assassin. Mr. Edgecomb was but little less deeply stirred, although his feelings were more of a mixture. He grieved for Bruno, and would willingly risk his life in hopes of doing the young man a service, yet his gaze was drawn far more frequently towards the under-temple on the top of which he had. Surely he had called sight of his wife, his daughter. Let me down and try to find him. He eagerly begged, as one might plead for a great boon. I promise to save him if yet alive, and let me try, Professor, I beg of you to give me this chance to show my heartfelt gratitude. But Professor Featherwood shook his head in negation. That would only add to our troubled friend, knowing nothing of the dialect you would be wholly at a loss, and looking so entirely different in every respect, how could you hope to pass inspection? All seemed so confused that I might, surely, it is worth trying. It would be suicidal, so say no more in that score. Almost harshly spoke the usually mild-mannered aeronaut, sending his vessel upon another circuit, only with stern villains choking back the appealing shout to his lost nephew. This time the aerostat was brought directly above the temple of the sun, where there appeared to be some unusual disturbance, a number of armed guards fairly driving a gaily arrayed Indian down to the lower levels, and that greatly against his inclinations, judging from the harsh cries and ringing threats which burst from his lips. Recognizing the building, and unable to hold his intense emotions longer under stern control, Cooper Edgecomb called aloud the names of his wife and daughter, begging that they might come to him, but then the airship was sent onward and upward, with a dizzying swoop and Professor Featherwood gripped an arm sternly speaking. Quiet, sir! Another outbreak like that, and I'll lock your lips if I have to send a bullet through your mad brain. I forgot. I could not wait longer knowing that my loved ones, you forgot that the lives of all depend upon our remaining at liberty. Coldly interrupted, Featherwood. Without this means of conveyance, how can your loved ones escape? Now your solemn pledge to maintain utter silence, or I will take you back to your under-wilderness, leaving you to shift for yourself as best you can. Promise, sir. I will. I do. Forgive me, for I was carried away by—twas there I saw, after so many horrible years. Huskily muttered the exile, fairly cowering there before his savior from the whirlpool. Enough. Bear in mind the rest of your loved ones depend on our efforts. If discovered by yonder snarling beasts, and that machine is injured, fair well all hopes. Now, quiet and look for Bruno. Again the airship circled over the valley in spite of the moonlight passing wholly unseen and unsuspected by the Aztecs, whose energies were bent on ferreting out mortal foes, not demons of the upper world. Waldo leaned farther over the handrail as they floated closer to an excited group of warriors, the central figure being Lord Huwah himself, fiercely denouncing Azul and his son, Ixli, as traitors to the common welfare and calling upon all honest braves, to met forth befitting punishment. Professor Featherwood caught one name indistinctly, that of the young Aztec in whose company Bruno had set forth on his ill-starred venture, and hoping to learn more of importance, he caused the Aerostat to hover directly above that particular group of redskins. Waldo, never stopping to count the risk, he might thus fetch upon them all, silently lowered the grapnel by means of the drag rope, giving a boyish chuckle as the three pronged hook descended amidst that gathering, the sight causing more than one superstitious brave to leap aside with cries of amazed affright. The airship gave a sudden swoop, and the grapnel caught Watson by his girdle, jerking him fairly off his feet and swinging him into air, pretty much as a youngster might land a writhing fish. But no fish ever sent forth so wildly screech of mingled rage and terror as split the air just then. Although hardly realizing what was happening, Professor Featherwood sent the aeromotor upward with a mighty jerk. The shock proving too much for that sash, Lord Huwah fell back to earth literally biting the dust, although he met with no bodily harm beyond sundry bruises. Caught a sucker, and I'll never do it again, uncle, exploded Waldo, as he swiftly hauled in his novel fishline, but he had to take a severe lecture from the Professor before the subject was finally dropped. And worse than all else, the air demon was now the target for both eyes and arrows, and perforce sailed swiftly away into the night. Down among the dead. Ixley spoke with a degree of earnestness, which left no room for doubt, even if the young man's own keen sense of hearing had not given warning but an instant later. ominous sounds came from the entrance, which had served them but so brief a time gone by, and Bruno knew that, even if they had escaped being seen while thus attempting to win such a gruesome refuge, the possibility of their having elected just such a line of flood had occurred to some of the Redskins. Gillespie heard the heavy doors open, then clang too again. He was fairly confident that some of the Aztecs had entered, although as yet the utter darkness hindered further recognition. Next, Ixley. He whispered, lips almost touching the face of his young guide, as they stood close together in the murk. They can't take me alive. Is it fight or no fight yet? Gently breathed the Aztec in turn. They look. That not makes you fine. They try see. We try not see all time. They come. We go like this. Catching a hand within his own clasp, Ixley let Bruno away in that utter darkness, seemingly well acquainted with the lay of the ground, although it quickly became evident that there must be more than one direct passage. Bruno felt convinced that there were other chambers turning at right angles to their present course, though it might have bothered the young man to give entirely satisfactory reasons for such a belief. Ixley did not flee fast nor far, in that first spurt pausing shortly to turn face towards the rear, a low musical chuckle coming through his lips. They come. Look. Cut no eyes for seeing dark. He explained, barely loud enough for Bruno to catch his meaning. We play fool them all. That be fun. He fun all time over. Ixley was scarcely as precise of speech while under the influence of excitement as when he had ample time in which to pick and choose his words. But there was little room for mistaking his meaning which after all is fairly sufficient. But this time the young brave was an error for only a few moments later both fugitives caught sight of a dim light and hurried motion far towards the entrance to these underground crypts. That warned them of added peril and Ixley's chuckle died abruptly away. They'll fetch us now. Grimly muttered Bruno, shaking his fairly athletic shoulders and fingering the knife at his belt as though making preparations for an inevitable struggle. All right. They may kill but I'll furnish some red paint for my tombstone anyway. It may be doubted whether Ixley fully appreciated this conclusion, yet he divined something of what was spoken and made swift response. No kill yet. They look. We hide. Maybe not find. Maybe play fool all over. Yes. Where can we hide that lights won't ferret us out though. If a fellow might only have the same advantage here in this darkness I'm not worth a sick kitten. Just a bit disgustedly came the words but Bruno was not giving over in weak despair. No matter how vast the odds might show against him he would put up a gallant fight as long as he could lift his hand or strike a blow. Still he was by no means anxious for the crisis to arrive. He would far rather run than fight under existing circumstances but wither and how. Ixley took it upon himself to solve the perplexing enigma in a whisper bidding his white brother to follow with as little sound as might be, once more hurrying away through the gloomy blackness which was by no means rendered more griable to Bruno by that fleeting glimpse of the dead men's bones. There was little room left for doubting the truth. Their presence in the death cells surely was more than suspected judging from the actions of yonder redskins who flashed the light over and into each angle and corner, each niche and jog where a human being might possibly seek concealment. There were not so many in number but still a larger force than could well be met with success by two youths even granting that Ixley would turn lethal weapons against his own people which Bruno felt was by no means a settled fact. For some little time the young men kept without that limited circle of light watching each movement made by the searchers and at the same time taking care that none of the little party stole a dangerous march upon them by hastening in advance of the lights. Ixley apparently enjoyed the affair much as a child might a successful game of eye spy for he emitted occasional chuckles and let false soft whispers which, if caught by other ears, certainly would not have deeply benefited the fugitives when captured. Thanks to that slow progress rendered thus by the care and minuteness of the search, Bruno began to marvel at the extent of the catacombs and almost involuntarily calculate how many centuries it must have taken to accumulate such enormous quantities of remains. For thanks to yonder prying light he could see how high those cream relics of perishing mortality were piled up in tears with here and there upright skeletons in position of greater prominence. Perhaps Gillespie might have been better able to appreciate Ixley's amusement had he even an inkling as to how this game of hide and go seek was fated to end. That an end must come, eventually, was a foregone conclusion, and then he ventured to ask Ixley how they were to escape detection when they could retreat no farther, but before an answer could be fairly shaped that end seemed actually upon them. Without sound or warning of any sort another bright light showed at a considerable distance in the opposite direction, and as Bruno stared that way he made out several armed warriors who appeared to be engaged in that same occupation, searching that city of the dead for the living. Thus caught between two fires there seemed only one course to pursue, and with the courage of his fathers Bruno spoke in low grim tones to his young guide. No use for you to join in the mix, Ixley. I'll do the best I know how, but if I can't make the riffle, if I go down for good and all I ask you to convey the news to my friends. You will. But Ixley was not at the end of his resources and gripping a wrist, he urged Bruno towards yonder second light speaking hastily as they moved along towards the edge of that wide passage. No fight yet, best hide, maybe no find, that best try first, then Ixley fight like White Brother fast. There was time for scant speech for just then the two parties seemed for the first time to catch sight of each other, and while the brave bearing the rude lantern still maintained his slow movements, searching well as he came. The other Indians came in advance, giving the fugitives barely time in which to crouch down under temporary cover. The moment these enemies had passed them by, Ixley urged Bruno on, then in swift whispers instructed him how to perfect his hiding, even aiding the young paleface into one of the upright crypts, back of a grim skeleton, the mouldering blanket sifting in covering the one of flesh and blood. After like fashion the Aztec saw to cover on the opposite side of the passage. None too quickly either for now the single searcher drew dangerously nigh peering into every practicable hiding place on either side before moving onward. Little by little he drew closer while the other band of searchers apparently turned off into a side passage or large chamber since nothing could be seen or heard of them by the fugitives. In all probability Ixley's bold ruse would have proved a complete success, for the Aztec warrior showed no suspicion as he drew nearer, but it was not to be thus. Fairly holding his breath lest he disturb some of the dry bones immediately in front of himself, Bruno waited and hoped only to feel his blood chill, and his heart fail him as a sickening hover crept over his brain, nor was that the only creeping thing worse luck. Past all room for doubting his entrance into that crypt had disturbed the repose of a snake of some description, for now he could feel the loathsome reptile crawling slowly up his back, turning the skin beneath scorching ice in its horrid passage. One horrible nightmare minute that lasted, then the serpent paused upon his shoulder and biceps, touching his cheek with nose and drawing back its ugly head to give an ominous hiss. Human flesh and blood could endure no more, and Bruno flung the snake violently off, striking forcibly against that mass of dry bones as he did so. With a rattling clatter, the skeleton lost its frail coherence, and tumbled outward, leaving Bruno fairly exposed within the niche. With a cry the Aztec warrior turned in that direction, but ere he could fetch his light to bear upon the right spot, Exley sprung forth to the rescue, hooting like a frightened owl as he dashed the light to earth, and at the same time deftly tripping the Indian headlong. Swiftest thought itself he followed of the advantage thus one, smiting the fallen brave heavily upon the crown with a clubbed thighbone, depriving him of sensibility for the time being at least, and then snatching up the still-burning light he called in guarded tones to his white friend. Oh, like this way! Scarcely realizing just what fresh ruse the Aztec had in mind, but far from recovered from that horrible fear of death from poisonous fangs, Gillespie submitted, Exley hurrying him away, turning off into what appeared to be a side passage less spacious than that to which they had until then confined their retreat. The young Aztec hastily explained his present scheme, which was to play the role of searchers as well, and scarcely had he made that project known, then another difficult test was offered their courage. Chapter 27 Penetrating Grim Secrets of the Lost City This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org The Lost City by Joseph E. Badger Jr. Chapter 27 Penetrating Grim Secrets Bruno caught an imperfect view of moving figures at no great distance ahead, but ere he could fairly decide just what they might be, his red-skinned guy swiftly whispered, More come, look, you don't say, Exley fool them, easy! Making not the slightest attempt to avoid the issue, the young Aztec stepped a little in advance of Gillespie, thus casting him into partial eclipse, speaking briskly as he met the two Indians, only one of whom bore a light. It is trouble for nothing, brothers, there is no sign here, if he so ought was in a dream, I think, and now, hark! Even there, in the subterranean recesses something of the wildly excited uproar, which followed Waldo's rash attempt to go fishing after his fellow men, and the sighting of that awful air demon by the Indians could be heard, and without defining its actual import, Exley adroitly turned it to his own advantage. They have found the strange dog without, he cried sharply, Come, my brothers, else we will be too late for hasten all. But only one half of the present group obeyed, the two Indians dashing at full speed towards the main entrance to the city of the dead, leaving Bruno behind wholly unsuspected, and Exley chuckling gleefully over the favourable change in the situation. Dago, we come, this way, brother. The Aztecs spoke, moving in the opposite direction, followed willingly enough by the now pretty well bewildered pale face. Whither are we going? Bruno felt impelled ask after few moments more of blind obedience. How are we going to get out? And, my friends, they must have been alarmed by that great drum. Exley made response by touch rather than in words, and giving his companion barely time sufficient, to read a rite that look of warning he extinguished the light, leaving themselves in complete darkness. Naturally anticipating fresh danger, Bruno strained his ears to catch, at least an inkling of its precise nature ere the trouble could fairly close in, but only silence surrounded them, silence and an almost palpable gloom. Not cat, assured Exley in a soft-toned whisper, as he defined the expectations entertained by his comrade in peril. Nobody come now, all come see what noise back yonder, you me all right, best make no big talk though, come see. Apparently the young Aztec found it no easy matter to elect words which should fairly convey his desired meaning, and abruptly giving over the effort, he moved on, one hand lightly closed upon Bruno's wrist, to guard against possible separation in that utter darkness. Nothing further was said until Exley again came to a halt, Gillespie giving a low exclamation as he felt what appeared to be a blank wall before them, was this no thoroughfare, were they blocked in to perish of starvation unless earlier discovered by the red-skinned searchers. Far from agreeable thoughts, yet such swiftly flashed across the young man's brain, lending an echo of harshness to his voice as he spoke. Where are we now, Exley? How are we going to get out of this, if you have led him into a trap? Fingertips lightly brushed his lips, then the Aztec explained as well he was able thanks to his limited vocabulary. Escape from the catacombs by the same route they had taken in seeking refuge there was entirely out of the question, even though the red-skins might have abandoned the search in that precise quarter for the time being, thanks to the sudden alarm which had broken forth in the valley, almost certainly there would be an armed guard so stationed as to intercept any or all persons who might so attempt to emerge. This much Bruno gathered then took his turn at the verbal oars. But we can't stay here, man, dear. Nothing to eat or to drink and my friends worrying over outside. We've got to get out, I have at any rate. The only question is just how and where. Dare one way go. Exley made reply even his lower tones betraying more than ordinary impressiveness. Bruno fancied. Maybe easy, maybe hard. Find out when try. We go this way. Best be still though. Bruno was ready enough to promise all that just so action was being taken. His uneasiness being by far too deep for rest or repose. More an account of his uncle and his brother though than for his own safety. He had not yet lost hope of extrication from the perils which surely surrounded them, not quite abandoned hope of rescuing the children of the sun as well. Turning abruptly to the left, Exley led the way into what appeared through the senses of touch and hearing, to be a narrow winding tunnel which presently took an upward incline, then broadened into a chamber of greater or lesser dimensions. The faint echoes told you less be there was an enlargement of some description, but the utter darkness veiled all else. Barely had the two adventurous youths come to a pause, then dull, uncertain sounds came from almost directly above their heads, and after listening for a brief space, Exley disappointedly breathed a fear that they would have to wait for the time being. Why, what's going on up yonder, and where are we anyway? Beneath the great Tioca Lili, Exley made answer in his disjointed way of speaking. There the evil-minded Baba, Delacopa, reigned supreme, and there almost directly above their heads stood the sacrificial stone upon whose flat surface the sun children would be doomed to suffer the last penalty provided Delacopa won his wicked will. Bruno thrilled to his centre with fierce indignation, as he little by little gathered this information. Perished by such hideous methods, give up her fair young life. For, rather queerly considering that Exley spoke of both Victor and Gladdy, he now had thought of, could see but that one lovely face and shrinking figure, face and form of the daughter alone. Discovery might have come all too soon, but for Exley slipping a palm over those indignant lips and thus smothering the outbreak, which the young man could not avoid, then recalled to ordinary prudence, Bruno talked and listened by turns. Exley contrived to make his white brother understand just how they were situated at the time. In a secret channel of communication with the great war temple, through which sanctuary he had hoped to lead his friend thence to escape from the valley itself if a favourable chance should offer. Now their way was barred and they could only wait, unless, would Bruno keep close guard over his tongue? Yes, anything rather than remain wholly idle like this. Adding a few minor cautions, Exley took Gillespie by a wrist and stole noiselessly forward climbing upward over and into a contrivance, which Bruno vainly sought to recognise by the sense of touch, but giving a thrill of amazement when his guide paused long enough to whisper in his nearest ear. This war god-body, stand up into Kallili, look on Killstone, wait, you see, hear all that now. Thanks to the close association of that night with all its attendant perils, Bruno was growing fairly skillful in interpreting the broken sentences of his copper-hued chum, and he now knew they were moving about within the hollow image of the Aztec and war god, what's the low pocketal, while? He caught sight of several small apertures through which yellow light came dimly, and almost without thinking applied his eyes to the one most convenient, peering forth upon the broad sacrificial stone with its foul bloodstained surface, the little channels intended to drain off the superfluous hemorrhage together with the gloomy repulsive surroundings, and to a most abominable stench appear to rise from the altar of death, and Bruno shrunk back with a shiver of disgust. No talk loud! Softly breathed Ixley, gripping an arm with force, they carefully fight now, look, that won't lack upon a big priest you call, dim her papa full old people, so. Although his meaning was not fully apparent, Bruno caught renewed interest, and once more peered forth upon the scene, weird and impressive enough even from a Christian point of view. Headed by Tlacopa, a ceremony of some description was taking place, lesser priests and other acolytes performing their various parts, the incantations rising now loudly, now sinking to hollow monotone, the whole affair being nonetheless absorbing when Bruno remembered that, perhaps it might have some connection with the vile plots against the son-children, if not endangering life itself. Gillespie likewise took note of various other graven images, among them one of the not less hideous war goddess, Diyoya Yomiki, or divine war-death fitting consort for the mighty hummingbird himself. Meanwhile, Ixley, who appeared to look upon the whole affair as a more or less jolly good jest at the expense of his superstitious people, took occasion to give his white brother a few pointers, letting him see how easy it was for false oracles to be manufactured to order, how certain the lightest wishes of the head priests were to find speedy fulfillment at all times. While thus divulging part of the mysteries of the temple, that ceremony reached a finale, and the little crowd slowly melted away, leaving but Blackopa and a select few of his trusted henchmen, and Ixley is certainly caught enough of their talk to alter his manner most materially. Come quick! He fiercely whispered in Bruno's ear, gripping an arm and fairly forcing the young man to accompany his retreat. Not another word was spoken before the lower level was reached, and then Gillespie broke the ice, asking what was the matter. Dark though it was all around them, Bruno could tell by sense of touch that his guide was powerfully agitated, and though Ixley clearly hesitated before imparting the asked for information, persistence won the point and then. Imperfectly though that discovery was set forth, Gillespie contrived to gather this much. Blackopa decreed that the son-children should be brought to trial, if not to actual execution when the morning sun arose. Never! fiercely vowed Bruno, all on fire as he recalled it more than fair face. Never, while I leave and draw breath! End of chapter 27