THE TOLTEC’S STAIR.
Viewed in the cheerful light of the next morning the uncanny happenings
of the night did not have nearly so serious a complexion. In fact both
Frank and Billy were sorely tempted to laugh at Harry, and the latter
himself was also inclined to think that he might have been mistaken
about the figure on the cliff. He even went so far as to admit, under a
severe fire of cross-examination that it might,—mind you he only said it
might—have been a monkey.
“He must have been a monkey if he was up where you say you saw him,
Harry,” remarked Billy, deftly transferring a slice of sizzling hot
bacon from the smoking tin roaster above the camp-fire onto a plate
formed of a round of pilot bread, for this conversation took place at
breakfast.
Immediately the meal was concluded the boys, of course, made a rush for
the hole. It still smelled musty and fusty, but the overpowering gaseous
fumes of the preceding evening seemed to have vanished. Frank was not
going to run any risks, however, and under his direction the two other
boys set about collecting a huge pile of dried brush which was shoved
down into the hole with long branches and then a lot of blazing tinder
thrown in on top of it. To the boys’ delight the stuff blazed up
fiercely and with no indication that the air was too full of gas for
combustion to take place; which was a certain sign that it was healthy
to breathe.
Accordingly there was soon plenty of bustling preparation about the camp
while the boys got in readiness for the decisive plunge into the
unknown. There were canteens to be filled at a spring that gushed from
the cliff not far away, firearms to be examined and pockets searched to
make sure that matches in their waterproof boxes had not been forgotten.
Last of all, when everything was ready, Frank with an air of triumph
produced half-a-dozen tallow candles.
“Well, you are a wonder,” cried Billy. “Whatever made you think of
fetching those along?”
“What made the cat stay out of the wet, Master Barnes?” replied Frank
merrily, “Forethought. Of course we have our electric torches,” he
added, “but the candles will shed a more diffused light.”
Arrived with their baggage at the edge of the hole there was an excited
contest between Harry and Billy as to who should enter first. Frank
decided the matter by going himself. With a lighted candle held above
his head he carefully descended the first of the steps and warned the
boys behind him to be cautious, as they had no means of knowing what
sort of a pitfall they might encounter at any moment. For the first few
feet of course they had the light of day to guide them; and never had it
seemed so sweet to them as when, after they had descended about twenty
feet or so, they were plunged into pitchy darkness.
With Frank’s candle shedding a yellow glare about them they descended
fearlessly after him down what seemed to be an interminable staircase.
They had so far followed a straight course down with a slight incline
which led inward beneath the face of the cliff. The steps were cut deep
and wide and, except for the damp slime with which they were covered,
the lads had no difficulty in following them or in maintaining a
foothold.
“Can’t we light our candles, too, Frank, and have a little more light?”
asked Harry suddenly after the little train had descended in silence for
some minutes.
“We’ve got all the light we want,” responded the young leader, “and
besides, we can’t afford to waste illumination. We may need it badly
before we get through.”
As they got lower the walls of the stairway, as wide as the opening
itself where they had entered, began to close in until the boys’ elbows
were rubbing against the walls on either side of them.
“This would be an awkward place to get caught in by anything coming the
other way,” remarked Frank, “we couldn’t even turn round.”
His mouth had hardly framed the words when he uttered a sudden shout of
“Lookout!”
The next minute the boys felt a great billow of wind coming toward them
and a queer rushing sound as of a great river flowing between rocks.
Frank’s candle was blown out instantly and they were enveloped in total
darkness.
Frank and Harry felt their faces beaten against by countless leathern
wings and Billy was fairly knocked over by the onslaught,—which had
scared him not a little. It was all over as quickly as it had begun
almost.
“Jimminy crickets, what on earth was that?” demanded Billy, picking
himself up.
“Bats,” laughed Frank, “no wonder they were in a hurry to get out. They
must have been imprisoned in here since last that stone swung into
place.”
“I hope they’ve all taken their walking, or rather flying papers,”
commented Billy, sputtering and coughing as were the other boys from the
terrific dust the creatures had fanned up with their wings, “anything
more like that would get on my nerves.”
Frank soon had his candle relit and they resumed their descent. The
stairway did not continue very much further, however. When they had
reached a point which Frank estimated must have been back underground
about half a mile from the face of the cliff their feet suddenly
encountered a hard level floor. It was a welcome change from the
monotonous downhill march.
“We have a few tons of mountain on top of us now,” remarked Harry, who
had also taken careful note of the direction the stairway followed.
“Yes,” agreed Frank, who had verified his guess of the direction in
which they had been proceeding by his compass. “Just think of the work
those fellows—or rather their slaves—accomplished when they dug this
tunnel through solid rock without powder or dynamite, so far as we
know.”
“It must have been well traveled,” exclaimed Harry, “look here.” He
called his brother’s attention to the narrow walls of the stairway by
which they had descended. They were grooved on each side, at a height of
about three and a half feet, with a smooth, worn, shallow sort of
trench.
“What did that, do you suppose?” asked Billy.
“Slaves’ elbows, no doubt,” replied Frank, “the thousands of people who
must have used this passage in the dead centuries could easily have worn
away the walls in that manner. Just as,” he continued, “in old
cathedrals you will find the altar steps worn by the knees of the
countless worshipers who have knelt there.”
“Maybe they were bringing out treasure,” hazarded Billy.
“That’s entirely likely,” replied Frank, “in such a case their burdens
would naturally have expanded their arms till they rubbed these grooves
in the walls with the passage of time.”
The little party had come to a halt during this conversation, but now
Frank turned to the others.
“We can take our choice,” he said, “of going on or of returning to the
surface and getting together a more complete equipment.”
The unanimous vote was for keeping on, at least for a time, and the
Chester Expedition under its young leader took up the march again. Now,
however, the walls of the level passage along which they were proceeding
seemed to have broadened out and they could walk three abreast without
difficulty instead of proceeding Indian file as hitherto. The air of the
passage too seemed purer than that of the staircase, and Frank even
thought at times he could detect a cool draught, coming from some
unknown outlet possibly. It was, however, insufferably hot; with the
close, ardent heat of a coal mine.
The passage began to take a gentle gradient upward after they had
proceeded along it for about half an hour, and as they pushed on the air
grew noticeably fresher. When Harry held up his candle they could see
that the roof of the passage was dripping with huge stalactites of a
whity color that glistened as the flame fell on them. On either side too
they could perceive the wet gleam of the walls. They were still in a
confined place.
They pushed ahead in this manner for perhaps fifteen minutes more when
suddenly Frank stopped short.
“Don’t come a step further,” he cried sharply.
The other boys poured out their questions.
“Hark!” was the only reply vouchsafed by Frank.
As he spoke he poked at the floor of the cave with the tip of his shoe
and dislodged a stone. He gave it a kick forward and the boys, with
tingling scalps and a cold shudder down their spines, heard it plunge
down—down into unknown depths till the sound died out in a tiny tinkle,
and all was silent as a tomb again.
“Phew!” gasped Harry, “that was a narrow escape, how did you detect it,
Frank?”
“I came pretty near not discovering it in time,” laughed the young
leader, who now that the danger was over was busy holding his candle at
every angle to see what their surroundings might be, “as luck would have
it, however, my foot dislodged a small pebble just as I was about to
step over into what would have been eternity. I heard it drop down just
as you fellows heard the larger one. I guess we’ll have to thank that
little bit of stone for saving the life of one of us at any rate.”
“Let’s light up and see where we are?” suggested Harry, after the boys,
fascinated by the mystery of the vanishing sound, had hurled dozens of
rocks into the depths.
“I hate to squander the candles, but I suppose we’ll have to,” replied
Frank. “This one of mine doesn’t come near lighting up the place.”
A simultaneous gasp came from the boys as, with all three candles
lighted, they peered over into the black gulf that yawned at their feet.
It was a huge fissure, possibly twelve feet across, and of unknown
depth. It reached clear from wall to wall of the passage, which at this
point had broadened out into what Harry called “a regular Council
Chamber.” As if to verify his words the light of the boys’ combined
candles revealed that the walls were carved with countless figures of
quesals and other hieroglyphics intended apparently to typify the
ceremony of the sacrifice. Dust and time, however, had done their work,
and in many places the figures were chipped away altogether where the
rock had flaked off.
At the further side of the chasm they could make out a spot of darker
black against the inky surface of the rock which Frank rightly took to
be the mouth of a continuation of the tunnel.
“Look here, boys” he cried in excitement, pointing across the abyss at
the darker shading that marked the mouth of the entrance of the
extension of the passage they had already traversed. “Do you know what
that means?”
“Well, I suppose it’s another tunnel, but what good does that do us,”
grumbled Harry; “unless we can jump this little ditch ahead of us?”
“Not for me,” put in Billy.
“You don’t suppose, do you,” demanded Frank, “that the people who took
all the trouble to build this outlet from the mines or temples or
whatever is at the end of our trip, would have left this chasm
impassable? What would have been the sense of it?”
“That’s so,” rejoined Harry, “but how are we going to find it—if there
is some way of getting over?”
“Look for it,” rejoined Frank quietly and, suiting the action to the
word, he approached the other side of the passage. After a brief search
he uttered a cry of triumph.
“I’ve got it, boys,” he exclaimed, “come here.”
To his wondering young companions he exhibited the lower links of a
heavy chain of some sort of metal which was not iron and to which even
Frank could not give a name.
“We’re as good as across,” he exclaimed.
“Well, how does that solve the problem?” demanded Billy.
“How, my bright young reporter,” cried Frank, “did you ever, when you
were at school, swing over a ditch on a rope?”
“Lots of times,” replied Billy wonderingly; “but——”
“That’s what we are going to do here—that is, if the chain is not too
weak from age to bear us,” replied Frank.
“Do you really mean that?” demanded Harry.
“I certainly do,” rejoined Frank.
“Listen!” suddenly cried Billy, “did you fellows hear something?”
They all three paused and listened intently.
From far down in the dark pit that gaped at their feet there came a
sound that seemed like a long drawn-out sigh.