THE COLLAPSE OF THE CIBOLA
An opening in the paved court in the rear of the Temple, half filled
with drifted sand, led into a "khiva" or secret religious council
chamber beneath. Herein the young adventurers discovered their
wonderland and the reward for all their labors.
Hastily returning to the balloon, they procured candles and
improvised scoops out of the sides of the tin emergency ration case
obtained from the Arrow. Major Honeywell had warned the boys that
the floors of all closed chambers of this sort were covered with the
accumulated dust of ages.
The first examination of the "khiva" resulted in disappointment.
The immediate impression that the boys received was one of cave-like
barrenness. In the half-light only a gray monotony met the eye.
Yet under this ghostlike pall, forms soon began to appear. In the
center of the chamber stood what was apparently an altar. In spite
of its burden of dust an elevation could be seen about eight inches
high and seven feet in diameter, on which was a boxlike structure
about three feet square and four feet high. On top of this was a
dust-covered figure. Beyond, in the deepest gloom, the mouths of
four radiating tunnels leading still further into the ground could
be seen. The roof was supported by irregular round columns,
apparently of wood, arranged in two circles.
Before beginning an exploration of the chamber the boys decided to
ascertain the depth of the dust covering the floor, into which they
had already sunk over their shoe tops. This was stifling work, for
the soft powder ran back as fast as it was dug away. A half hour at
least was consumed in reaching the bard surface beneath. The
coating of dust was nearly three feet deep.
As Ned climbed out of the little excavation Alan held the candle
down. To the astonishment of the boys a beautiful blue sheen met
their gaze.
"Turquoise flooring!" shouted Ned.
It was true. The entire "khiva," so far as the boys subsequently
uncovered its floor, was a crude mosaic of the most perfect
turquoise, the pieces, varying in size, being laid in a lime-like
cement.
A general survey of the room and its connecting tunnels showed that
each radiating arm led, with about twenty feet of passageway, into a
smaller room. In each of these rooms were nine column placed in a
rectangle. The main chamber was circular in form, forty-eight feet
in diameter, and the smaller apartments were twenty-four feet
square.
Ned while at work examining the floor, suddenly ceased and rushed to
one of the columns.
"You remember," he exclaimed, "the Spaniard said these columns were
of gold and silver."
But in this the ancient record was wrong. The inner six supports
were painted a faded yellow and the second row, twelve in number,
was colored red, as the boys discovered later when they brushed and
cleaned some of them. Around each of the inner columns, however,
there were two metal bands about two inches wide and thirty inches
apart. The lower ones were six feet from the floor. They were of
heavy gold with loops or hooks extending from each side, as if
festoons or connecting bands had once extended from pillar to
pillar.
"Not a bad substitute!" exclaimed Ned.
The second line of twelve columns had similar rings of silver, as
the boys discovered in good time. The movable contents of the room
were not easily examined, as each object on the floor was buried
under a mound of heavy, suffocating dust. Bats had made the place
an undisturbed refuge, and the repulsive flutter of these creatures
was disconcerting.
A preliminary examination of the four lateral passages and the rooms
at their far end showed that these were probably store rooms,
excepting the one on the east side. Here, on shelves, fixed on
columns or posts similar to the colored supports in the principal
chamber, were eight oblong forms. Even the dust and refuse could
not disguise the nature of these--they were unmistakably mummies,
the embalmed bodies of either chiefs or priests. At the head and
foot of each were various dust covered receptacles and utensils.
The afternoon was too short for the boys to accomplish the removal
of anything.
"I feel like a grave robber," panted Alan, soberly, as the two boys
clambered out into the fresh air, finding, to their surprise, that
it was already night.
"Well, I don't," said Ned. "These things are so old that they seem
to belong to Time itself. I feel more like a gold miner who has at
last struck a rich vein--and it's our vein."
But, as so often happens, ill luck came close on good fortune. The
first glance of the young aeronauts at the camp and the Cibola was
enough to chill their new happiness. The big gas bag had settled so
low that it half concealed the car, which was resting flat on the
ground. The buoyancy of the air ship was gone. Without more gas
the Cibola could not make another flight. It was a severe blow to
Ned and Alan; but they met the issue squarely.
"There is no use in worrying," said Ned, finally, when they realized
the exact situation, "and we've got to make the best of it.
Besides," he said, laughing, "we are not ready to go."
"That's right," replied Alan, thinking of the yet unexamined
contents of the Treasure Temple, "and when we are ready I guess
we'll be no worse off than Bob and Elmer. I suppose we can manage
the one hundred foot descent some way."
Ned pointed to the hundreds of yards of net cordage.
"Right," exclaimed Alan, "that'll be easy--a rope ladder."
It was almost dark and the boys were covered with the penetrating
grime of the long undisturbed "khiva." A meager wash up and supper
and rest were in order. But Ned said:
"By morning the Cibola will be in collapse. It is a valuable
machine, and it ought not be left out here on this point unprotected
from the seasons. We shall probably never see it again, but while
we can move it let's tow it over in front of the temple and put the
bag and engine and instruments in the protected room."
It was not a difficult task. With no great effort the car was half
carried and half dragged down the slope and then to the clearing in
the pine grove where the boys soon made a new camp. To complete
their work the big bag of the balloon was untied from the car and
drawn, half inflated, into the pathway leading to the temple door.
Then, with no small regret, the boys opened the escape valve, and in
a few minutes the collapsed Cibola was stretched like the cast off
skin of a snake along the sandy pathway, ready to be rolled up and
compactly stored away.