CHAPTER XXII.

MORE DISCOVERIES.

Buffalo Bill stooped and looked down into the hole, as soon as the fire

had ceased and the smoke no longer rose in a way to suffocate him. He

struck another match, which he held in his hand instead of tossing it

down. Its light showed a narrow, cramped gallery leading off into the

darkness. He announced his discovery to those behind him.

“Of course,” said Bounderby, in his superior tone, “an elevator

descending can be expected to descend to a place where the passengers

can get out. Strange we did not think of that before!”

“We thought of it, professor,” Butler corrected, “but we couldn’t find

that way out. But here it is, Cody has found it.”

Henselman came to his feet again. “Brofessor, de hant pag iss gone!” he

announced, with a wail.

“It was in your charge, Henselman! What has become of it?”

“Der elefator took id. Ven der elefator went oop de hant pag also id

went oop. Yaw! Vat iss?”

Butler and Lawler, not heeding this, were crowding in back of Buffalo

Bill, trying to look into the tunnel he had discovered. Professor

Bounderby took off his hat and scratched his bald head in a puzzled way.

“Henselman, when we get back to civilization, I shall discharge you for

this bit of carelessness!” he announced with severity. “That hand bag

contains the ore specimens I have labored so hard to get, it represents

the work of nearly three weeks of dangerous toil. And now it is gone!”

“Yaw! Id iss gone!” The rotund German waddled to the elevator well and

looked up. “But, brofessor,” he said, and his voice changed as the

thought came to him, “uff you hat peen combelled to carry dose hant pag

like me, you voult rechoice dot id is gone alretty yet. Nein?”

The excited talk of Buffalo Bill and those with him made the professor

forget for the time the loss of that precious hand bag. He turned to

them.

“Have you found a way out?” he asked.

“We have found a narrow tunnel, Bounderby, and we’re hoping it will lead

us out. It runs straight through this clayey cliff, and it’s narrow; but

perhaps we can squeeze through.”

“We’ve _got_ to squeeze through!” said Lieutenant Butler.

“Follow me!” the scout ordered, and he tore from the mummy some of its

cloth, twisted it into a torch, which he lighted, and then, slipping

into the hole, he began to crawl along, lighting the way with that

gruesome torch, whose flame filled the narrow space with smoke, and soon

set all to coughing.

After him came Lieutenant Butler, and then Lawler, and, following

behind, the professor and the German.

The tunnel proved a “Fat Man’s Misery” for Henselman. He was soon in

trouble and squealing for aid.

“Hellup!” he bellowed. “Brofessor, ton’d leafe me here. I am shtuck!”

“But I can’t turn around to assist you, Henselman!” the professor

declared testily. “My body and legs are too long; I can’t turn in this

place. Henselman, you’ll have to help yourself!”

The yells of the German caused Buffalo Bill and those on ahead to stop.

“Don’t send out such howls as that, Henselman!” the scout protested.

“You’ll have us in trouble.”

“Id iss me dot iss alretty in trouple,” said Henselman. “I am shtuck in

dis hole. I am too fad in my stummick!”

“Henselman, squeeze along; you can make it!” the professor urged; and

seeing how difficult it was for him to get help, the fat German began to

“squeeze along,” and, with much grunting and sighing, contrived to

advance a little.

When the scout had gone on for twenty or thirty yards he saw a faint

light. He announced the discovery to Lieutenant Butler, who was next

behind him. Then he blew out the smoking and cough-producing torch,

being glad to get rid of it.

“We don’t know what we’ll find out there,” he explained, “and we

wouldn’t wish our light to be seen. Bounderby, tell that German to cease

his noise. We don’t know what we’re coming to now. But there is light

ahead.”

The knowledge that light had been seen, indicating that the end of the

tunnel was being reached, had an inspiring effect on Henselman. He got

along much better after that, and with much less puffing and panting.

“Ve vill neffer pe aple to gid back der vay we haf comed from,

brofessor,” he declared.

“Perhaps, Henselman, we shall not want to. The only reasons I can think

of that would make me want to go back are that hand bag and the hope of

being able to understand a bit more about the mysteries we have beheld.

That stone taken from the mouth of the mummy, Henselman, I have here in

my pocket. I hope to be able to read it some time. When I deliver my

lecture——”

But Henselman was howling again, declaring that he was stuck fast; and

what more the professor said was not heard by the others.

The light seen by Buffalo Bill increased. He saw that he was nearing the

end of the tunnel, and that the light was sunshine coming in there.

But, unfortunately for Henselman, the tunnel contracted still more as it

neared the end, and soon the rotund stomach of the German was having

further and continued trouble.

When the scout gained the end, he ventured to peer out, before venturing

out himself. What he saw was as surprising as anything that had gone

before.

A circular valley lay spread beneath him, a valley of great beauty,

embowered here and there in trees, and having in its center a large

village, which was dominated by a shining, domelike structure.

Where there are houses people may be expected. In this case they would

supposedly be Indians, and, therefore, enemies. Thus thinking, the scout

took a good look, to make sure that no Indians were near the mouth of

the tunnel. Then he spoke to Lieutenant Butler.

“We’re at the end,” he said. “There’s a valley here, with an Indian

village in it; at least I think it is an Indian village, though it has a

templelike structure that looks anything but Indian. Can you squeeze in

by me here and take a look at it? I fear to try to get out yet.”

Lieutenant Butler crowded in by the side of the scout, and their bodies

so filled the narrow space that the situation was almost uncomfortable.

But what Butler saw repaid him for the pain and effort.

“It is amazing!” he said. “I can hardly believe my eyes.”

“An Indian village?” said the scout.

“I can hardly think so; Indians are not given to fine architecture, and

if that central house isn’t fine architecture I miss my guess. See that

high dome in its middle, Cody! That must be a temple, and Indians are

not supposed to have temples.”

“Some kinds of Indians have temples, or once had, and those were the

Aztecs. You recall that stone in the mouth of the mummy? The writing, or

whatever was scratched on that stone, resembled Aztec characters, as I

recall them. Can this be an Aztec city?”

“But the old Aztecs are all dead, Cody.”

“Very true. So far as we know, they are all dead, and their descendants

are the miserable Indians and peon class of the Mexico we know to-day.

But there may be some remaining. Remember that we don’t know where we

are. We suppose we’re in Mexico, yet we don’t even know that. Following

our compasses, which had gone crazy, we were led we know not whither,

and we have no correct idea of our location. There are strange Indian

tribes in the interior of Mexico, in some of the inaccessible mountains,

for instance. Lieutenant Butler, we can’t be sure that this is not an

Aztec city.”

Professor Bounderby heard a portion of that, and he tried to squeeze to

the front, with the result that he and young Lawler were crowded into

space so small that soon Bounderby began to feel as pinched and squeezed

in as the German, who was still snorting his calls for help.

“We’ll have to risk it,” said the scout to Lieutenant Butler, after a

further look round. “So, here goes!”

He crawled with difficulty through the opening, which had pinched in

until the hole was no larger than his body, and seemed hardly so large.

When outside, the scout was gratified to see a screen of bushes. It was

some distance off, by the side of what looked to be a highway. Yet it

pleased him to discover that when he had slipped away from the mouth of

the tunnel this bushy screen interposed between him and the houses of

the village. He drew over to that side, and Lieutenant Butler, coming

after him, did the same.

Then Tom Lawler came crawling forth, his fine young face shining and

red, his eyes staring about with interest and eager curiosity.

“I wonder where are we now?” he asked.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Butler. “Perhaps Bounderby can tell us.”

Bounderby’s head appeared, then his narrow shoulders and long body and

legs came into view. Behind Bounderby the German was laboriously trying

to make progress, as his sighs, groans, and exclamations showed.

Bounderby sat up, straightened his tall hat in place, and flourished a

soiled handkerchief, which he drew out to wipe his heated and now grimy

face.

“This is—remarkable!” he declared, when he caught sight of the shining

building and the rows of white houses, the houses at that distance, many

of them, resembling cubes of snow, or salt.

“Re-mark-able!” repeated the professor.

The familiar notebook and familiar pencil came out, and he began to

scribble with furious haste:

“Having crawled for a long distance through a small tunnel, we found

ourselves in the outer air again, and before us we beheld a shining

edifice which glittered in the sun as if it were of gold; and beside it,

running by streets and in squares like the houses and business blocks of

a city, were many small houses. Most of the small houses were white,

though some, at this distance, had a general dull-mud color. We could

scarcely believe we had not entered some sort of fairyland.”

As the professor had the singular habit of reading aloud whatever he

jotted down, and while he was jotting it down, this was heard by Buffalo

Bill, and by Lawler and Lieutenant Butler.

“A very good description,” said the scout. “Can you tell us what you

think of it, professor? What sort of a city is that? Is it a large

Indian village? And what do you make of that large house in the center?

It seems to be nearly circular, and has a very high dome.”

“That is a temple,” declared the professor, with much certainty.

“But Indians, unless they are Aztecs, or of some like tribe, do not

build temples!”

“These may not be Indians, Cody. That is certainly, to judge from its

appearance, a temple, and its roof seems to be of beaten gold. The

houses are poor enough, most of them, but that temple is magnificent.

These people have put all their wealth into it, and have been content

with the little houses for themselves. That shows they are a religious

people.”

“What I’m thinking of,” said Tom Lawler, when the professor stopped, “is

that strange beast which we followed. Did that thing get into the

elevator and come down here through this tunnel?”

“I think it must have done so!” declared the professor.

“Then it pulled the peg which caused the elevator to descend, and when

it got into that little room back there it toppled the old mummy forward

and crawled down into this tunnel. Is that your idea, professor?”

Bounderby hesitated to declare that this was so; he began to see where

it would lead him.

“If it did all those things,” Lawler went on, when Bounderby did not

reply, “then it was a man, and not a beast!”

“But the orang-utan footprints!” the professor objected.

“We don’t know that it was an orang-utan, professor! None of us has seen

it.”

“That is very true,” said Bounderby, with great gravity, “but it is to

be remembered that it is not necessary to see a creature in order to

know of its existence. For instance, we may hear it howl and so judge by

the ear alone. We may discover its hiding place, and get our knowledge

from what we see there. In the present case, we judge by the footprints

which it left, and by its attack on Mr. Cody. Its tracks are those of an

animal.”

“They are not like the tracks of a man, you mean,” the scout corrected.

“They are not like the tracks of a man, and the luminous glare of its

eyes as it looked down at you indicated also that it is an animal.”

“I do not think I said the eyes were luminous, but only that they seemed

fierce and fiery. It’s hard to get a word to describe them, or their

effect on me. They might have been the eyes of a man.”

“There’s a sort of mist rising over in that direction,” said Lawler.

“It’s beyond what looks to be a road. I wonder what causes it?”

“We’ll see,” said the scout. “I think there is a waterfall, or swift

stream there.”

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Buffalo Bill's death message · 第 22 / 41 章