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Peril Finders

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<h3>Chapter Thirty Five.</h3> <h4>In the Stone Age.</h4> The experiment was tried next day. A bucket, loaded with stones heavy enough to sink it, was lowered down the black-looking pit, and was drawn up again nearly full of water. This was given to the nearest grazing animals, and the bucket sent down again, to catch against some projecting block and tilt out the ballast, after which it refused to sink, but made a jerk or two to escape, and then had to be drawn out. Fresh stones were put in the bottom, and again were tilted out, but the result of another trial from a little different spot resulted in the vessel’s coming up full. More trying resulted in the adventurers finding that they could depend upon obtaining about five bucketfuls out of a dozen trials, and with this they were content. An attempt to reach the first terrace was now made, and this did not prove to be so difficult as it appeared from below, Chris finding a spot where the rock-face was a good deal broken away and proposing to try and climb it. The doctor hesitated. “What about the snakes?” he said. Chris started, looked up, and then looked down, to see that Ned’s eyes were fixed upon him, and he turned red. “A snake couldn’t climb up there!” he said sharply. “No,” said his father, “I should doubt whether one could; but there is every probability that one or many might have come down from above.” “Bother!” exclaimed the boy, and he hesitated for a few moments before saying, “If one did fall, or come creeping down one of those great cracks, perhaps, it wouldn’t stop there. Snakes want something to eat, and there doesn’t seem to be anything to live on up there. Wouldn’t it come down lower, after all?” “Possibly,” said the doctor, laughing. “You want to venture?” “Yes, father.” “Very well, go. But take a good stick with you—say such a piece of sapling as Griggs carried, only much shorter, and use it well as you go.” Chris nodded, and without asking the American, hurried off to cut such a piece as he required, ending by trimming it well and leaving quite a small bush-like tuft of green at the end. “You mean to go, then?” said Ned quietly. “Yes. Will you come with me?” “No,” said Ned, wincing. “I hate snakes.” “Not half so much as I do.” “Yes, I will. I’ll come too.” “Like to go first?” asked Chris mischievously. “N–yes, give me the stick. I can climb up there as easily as you can. Well, why don’t you give me the stick?” “’Cause I want it myself, lad. No, thank you; I’m going to have the honour of sweeping down all the rattlers as I go up. You’d better stand back out of the way, in case I should send a big one down. You can shoot it then.” “Some one else will have to do that,” said Ned, in an off-hand way, to hide his nervousness. “I shall be close behind you.” “Then you mean to come?” “Of course.” “That’s right, old chap. I say, Ned, I don’t believe there’ll be any, after all.” “Think not?” Chris nodded. Then laughingly— “We’ve got to chance it all the same. Come on.” Chris led the way, with his piece slung, revolver and knife in belt, and the pine staff in his hand, when Griggs took a step forward, with his eyes twinkling. “I say,” he cried, “it’s hardly fair for us if you get chivvying those rattlers and sending them flying over the edge and down here.” “Oh, you must take your chance about that,” said Chris merrily. “Be careful, my boy,” said the doctor. “What, about the rattlers, father?” “Of course; but I meant where you place your feet. Many of the stones are rotten and loose.” “We’ll mind,” said Chris, and he began to climb, raising himself a step or two, and then striking sharply in amongst some growing plants, before thrusting his staff up in front of him and drawing himself up again. This he kept on repeating, and without much difficulty climbed some thirty feet, before an awkward place came like a check, caused by a big stone having fallen, leaving a good-sized cavity. “Look out now, Ned,” he said softly. “Here’s a hole that may hold one.” “All right,” was the reply, and as Chris planted his feet firmly, one in a hole and the other on a projecting stone, Wilton uttered a warning word or two, which the boys were too busy to heed. “It’s a bigger place than I thought,” said Chris, taking fast hold of a stone with his left hand and advancing his tufted staff with his right, as he stood well upright, bringing his head above the edge of the hole. “It was built-up once, for the stones were square, and it goes in quite deep. Now, then, look out for a big one.” He leaned a little on one side, thrust in the stick, and gave it a sharp rattle round in different directions, when to his horror there was a rush which nearly made him loosen his hold before he realised what had happened. But fortunately he held on, and in an instant the alarm and danger had passed away. For the occupants he had disturbed proved to be some half-dozen huge bats, which fluttered out, squealing, and made for the opposite side of the depression. “Phew! How they smell! Cockroachy,” cried Chris. “I say, father, there are not likely to be snakes here now.” “No,” said the doctor. “If there were I should not think that you would have found the bats. But be careful.” Chris said nothing, but climbed right into the hole. “Here, come on, Ned,” he cried; “this isn’t a hole made by some stone falling over; it’s quite a little chamber, with—What’s that?” he added—“A chimney?” A minute’s investigation proved that it was no chimney that had taken his attention, but a sloping shaft with plenty of room for a man to pass upward, and the way made easy by projecting stones. “You are not going in there?” said Ned anxiously, as he stood close behind. “But I am. Come and look. You can see daylight. Why, Ned, it’s the way up to the first terrace. Come on.” Chris stepped in, and with his curiosity aroused, Ned followed, just as Bourne’s voice came from below, with the question— “What are you boys doing? Mind how you climb above that hole. You had better get a little to the right.” “No, we hadn’t,” said Chris, who was half up the shaft. “Don’t speak yet, Ned. Come on; it’s quite easy.” Ned followed, and came in for plenty of dry dust and chips as Chris climbed on, to find himself directly after in a cell-like chamber, evidently cut out of the solid rock. “Ahoy! Where are you, boys?” cried the doctor, in an anxious tone of voice. “You look out of the window-opening,” said Chris; “I’m going to look down out of this,” and passing as he spoke through a low opening, he stood in the middle of another cell-like place. They were saluted with a shout. “No snakes, then?” said Griggs. “I don’t think so. None here,” cried Chris. “Are you all coming up?” There was no need to answer, for Griggs was already leading the way, and as soon as they were all up an investigation of the place began, during which it was found that they had evidently hit upon one of the openings, or probably enough the principal one into the rock city, where upon the level where they stood some dozens of roughly carved-out, cell-like habitations communicated one with another. There was a great deal of dust and other accumulation, for in damp spots where there was a chance for plants to exist they seemed to have grown, died, and turned to earth. Here and there, too, as the party made their way from cell to cell there were proofs that various animals had taken possession of the rough shelters and brought the prey they had captured, stores of well-gnawed bones lying scattered about; but saving the traces left of construction, cutting out of the rock and building in, they found nothing to show what kind of people they were who had lived there, nothing to prove how far back it was in the world’s history that the rock city had been occupied by a teeming population. “How long is it since people lived here, father?” was asked by Chris, after they had been wandering about from cell to cell but not finding any way of getting higher without a dangerous climb from the terrace outward. “Ah, you are asking what has been puzzling me,” replied the doctor, “and I seem to be faced by a blank wall built-up between now and the past. If we could find anything in the shape of weapons or household implements, one might make a guess; but every trace we have found is of the last inhabitants.” “Well, that ought to do,” said Chris. “But I mean the pumas or jaguars that seem to have here and there turned the cells into caves, and left their gnawed bones about. They may have lived here fifty years ago, a hundred years, or five. But there is one thing evident, and it is this—that the people who lived here chose the place as being one that they could make into a stronghold, one which they could fortify so as to defend themselves from their enemies.” “What enemies, sir?” asked Ned sharply. “Ah, that I can’t tell you. The people here must have been to a great extent civilised, or they would not have been builders; and most likely their enemies were wild Indian-like tribes who roamed the plains, as they do to this day. I want to find something left by these builders, and then perhaps we might learn something.” They had now come to the last of the long range of cells that they had been making their way through, and further progress was checked by solid rock which had evidently been neither chipped away nor added to. They cautiously stepped through the front opening, to stand upon the rough, crumbled-away terrace, from which they could look down into the great depression where the ponies and mules were contentedly grazing, and for about the tenth time looked upward for some means of reaching the terrace above, one which appeared more time-worn and dangerous than that upon which they stood; but without ladders it would have been risking life to make any attempt to reach it. “Strikes me, sir,” said Griggs, “that we’ve left the way up far behind.” “Why?” said Wilton sharply. “Because we’ve seen no way here, and we found one there.” “But I could see nothing likely to lead higher,” said Chris. “We didn’t look about much,” cried Ned. “We were eager to come along here.” “Yes, I suppose that was so,” said Chris thoughtfully. “Well, there’s the row of cells above us, and there must be a way.” “Unless it has been swept off by some landslip,” suggested Bourne. “Well, we’ll turn back now,” said the doctor, “for even if we had a shovel I don’t think we should find anything that would help us.” They went back from cell to cell, and twice over found the terrace outside sufficiently level and secure to allow of their passing along it, but they soon had to take to the interior again with its low doorway-like connections. At last they all stood together at the top of the roughly-stepped sloping shaft by which they had ascended, to find that the roof here was entirely broken away by the falling of a portion of the cliff; but they found also what they sought, for there, about a score of feet above their heads, was the evident continuation of the shaft-like hole by which they had come up. “Look,” cried Griggs triumphantly; “no wonder we could not find it.” “But how are we to use it?” said Bourne. “Oh, we can manage that, sir; eh, boys?” “You might,” said the doctor, gazing up, “but I’m sure I couldn’t.” “Oh yes, you could, sir, when one of us has been up and driven a peg here and a peg there into some of those cracks. The stones are quite in layers; and after that we’ll drive a very strong one in, and tie a lariat to it to hang down like a balustrade to steady whoever goes up.” “But where are the pegs?” “Down below, sir, growing in amongst those trees. I vote we go down, have some dinner, and come up again after I have chopped as many pegs as I think we shall want. I should bring the axe up here too, so as to drive them in. Why, Chris, lad, we could make a regular ladder up there.” Griggs’ proposal was adopted, and that same afternoon found them in the same place, with the American ready for action, and the boys carrying rope and pegs. And now what had seemed difficult before had grown easy, the American, who had cut plenty of tough short pieces of pine and formed them chisel-ended, driving one in between the natural faults in the stone with the head of the axe, and then climbing upon it to drive in another, which formed a standing-place in turn, the slope upward of the cliff making the task easy—so easy, in fact, that less than half-an-hour sufficed to bring him to the spot where the shaft was in fair preservation, with its projecting pieces of stone left by the original carvers of the way. Here the American fixed the strong peg pitched up to him by Chris, who had followed him up step by step, and after tying to it one end of the lariat thrown up by Ned, the two workers made their way up to the intact shaft, and reached the first cell of the next row, some fifty feet above the other, gaining at the same time a better view of the terrace in front, and seeing that it was comparatively very little broken-down, merely worn by the weather. “Here, let’s go on a little way,” cried Chris eagerly. “No,” replied Griggs; “fair play’s a jewel. Let’s go back; your father will like to be one of the first to begin exploring.” “So he will; but look, here they come.” For Ned was close up, being the next to test the stability of the new ladder, and was closely followed by the doctor and their other friends. “Capital!” cried the doctor. “A much finer view from up here. Why, with such a stronghold and no better way for the enemy to approach, the old people ought to have been able to set all the tribes of the plain at defiance.” “Perhaps they did, sir,” said Griggs; “but it seems to me that they must have had a regular channel of water coming down from above there to supply all these rooms, or cells, as you call them.” “Most likely,” said the doctor. “How would it be then if the enemy managed to break down the channel from somewhere up yonder where we found the hole under the fallen stones? Could the people who attacked them have done that?” “Why, Griggs, you are making history. That was the old people’s aqueduct, and it is quite possible that when they were besieged the enemy caused the destruction over which we climbed.” <ANTIMG src="images/peril317.jpg" alt=""> “Yes,” said Griggs thoughtfully; “that would ruin the folk. No doubt some of these places were used as stores, and those might last for years; but if their supply of water were cut off there wouldn’t be much chance for them then.” “Well, let’s see farther,” said the doctor. “I can’t help thinking that they must have been a strong and fairly civilised race.” Chris led the way in, to find the cell he entered cut out and built-up just the same as those which they had seen; but the floor was encumbered deeply with the dust of ages, and on stirring some of it with his foot the boy drew back hurriedly and looked strangely at his father. “What have you found?” said the doctor. “The jaguars must have killed a man here, father,” replied the boy, who looked on in disgust as his father stepped in and picked up a skull which might have lain there, sheltered by the roofing of stone, for ages. It looked brown and as if very little pressure would suffice to crumble it up into dust; but the teeth left in the upper jaw were perfect and fairly white. “Ah!” said the doctor thoughtfully. “Here’s a bit of genuine history at last.” “Killed by a jaguar, father?” cried Chris excitedly. “No, my boy,” was the reply; “this is not the marking of a jaguar’s teeth, but the cause of death, plainly enough.” “What, that hole?” cried Chris excitedly. “Yes. Look, the forehead has been crushed in by the blow from a stone axe, or possibly by a stone hurled from above.” “Perhaps only held in the hand, sir,” said Griggs thoughtfully. “Why, that’s a heap of old bones,” cried Ned, with a look of horror; “the dust’s full of them.” “Yes,” said the doctor, moving the relics carefully with the butt of his rifle for fragments that were fully defined as to shape to fall together as mere dust and hide portions below. “There’s another skull,” continued the examiner, “crushed in more than the first. A finely-preserved specimen, for, in spite of that hole, it shows the shape of the relic—a low forehead, retreating very rapidly, the brows very bony and heavy, and the cheek-bones widely prominent.” “That’s not the same shaped skull as the first,” said Bourne quickly. “Certainly not,” replied the doctor. “I should say it belonged to a fiercer, more savage race of man, who might have been an ancestor of the present Indians of the plains.” “Then that was one of the enemy, father,” said Chris decidedly, “and he got it in the attack.” “Possibly,” said the doctor, looking strangely at his son. “He seems to have got it, Chris, but that doesn’t sound to me a very scientific way of describing the antique remains.” Chris turned very red, and pressed some of the dust aside with his foot, laying bare the side of another of the ghastly relics. “And that’s like the first,” cried the doctor, bending forward to pick it up, a skull looking whiter than either of the others. “Certainly this is of a different race, Bourne, and the owner died in the same way, the brow crushed.—Look at that.” The rest were already looking, and saw what caused the doctor’s abrupt exclamation, for as he took up the skull the back portion fell away and the front dropped apart into so much crumbling dust. “We’re looking down at the remains of a desperate fight, sir, I should say,” said Griggs thoughtfully. “It’s just as if there had been a stand made here.” “Come on into the next place,” said the doctor eagerly; “but keep close to the wall, following my steps. Ah! it’s impossible to avoid crushing the remains,” he continued, as he sidled along, leaving his footprints in the soft dust which lay thick. “I say, Chris, isn’t this very horrid?” whispered Ned, as the boys followed last towards the low doorway opposite to that by which they had entered. “Yes, I suppose so,” said Chris thoughtfully; “but it makes one think of ever so far back when all this dust must have been alive—all fierce men, fighting, some to kill, others to save their lives. I don’t know; it doesn’t seem so very horrid, though I don’t like treading on all their dust—and—and—” “Bones,” suggested Ned. “No; because they’re not bones now, only the shape of bones. See how that all crumbled-away when my father picked it up. Dust and ashes, we ought to call it. Do you want to go back?” “N–no, I think not. I say, what a fight it must have been!” “Yes,” said Chris, with a deep breath that sounded like a sigh. “One seems to fancy one can see the men who had the white skulls being driven back from this cell into that one, and I shouldn’t wonder if we find that—” “Yes,” came the doctor’s voice from the next place, “it’s wonderfully interesting. The civilised men must have been making a desperate stand here, and I fully expect that we shall find that they were driven back from cell to cell. Yes,” he said, with his voice growing fainter. “What do you say, Griggs?” “It’s worse in here, sir, and—yes, worse still in the next place.” “Driven back from cell to cell,” cried the doctor, “and it’s my impression that we shall find the remains of women and children in the farthest one. We shall hit upon the scene of a terrible massacre—the destruction of the race who built-up this place.” The boys had joined the speakers now, just in time to hear Wilton speak— “But I say, Lee, aren’t you letting your imagination carry you a little too far?” “I think not,” replied the doctor quietly. “Look here; you cannot call this imagination. Small as the space is in these rock chambers, there are the remains of scores of men who fought desperately for their lives. To me it seems like a vivid reproduction of the past.” “How far back?” said Bourne. “Ah, that is beyond me. How long would it take these bones to decay to this extent as they lay here just as their owners fell? It is a question that no man can answer—one dependent upon the action of the air in a climate like this, with the remains sheltered from sun and rain, to gradually pass away into dust. You can see plainly enough that these are not the remains found in some burial place, added to year after year, age after age. This slaughter must have been the work of only a few hours, and the people lie piled-up as they fell. Let’s go on.” Cell after cell was entered, with the remains lying thick as the warriors had fallen, the searchers continuing the examination to the very end, and then gladly stepping out on to the terrace, to stand there in the broad daylight, the air seeming to feel fresh and clear after what they had gone through. “A strange bit of history,” said the doctor thoughtfully. “We know now and think how this bit of civilisation came to an end; but we have discovered no weapons of war to help us to give a date to the siege.” “But we haven’t half done our search yet, sir,” said Griggs. “There’s another terrace above this, you see,” and he pointed up to where there had been another row of the cells formed in the rock-face, these latter standing back a little and evidently being the last, for above them the cliff projected like a gigantic cave, as far as they could see, from end to end. “Who votes that we give up now and leave the examination till another day?” said Bourne, who had seemed more and more enthusiastic as the search went on. There was no reply. “Who votes that we try and get up to the next stage?” Hands went up, and Ned shouted eagerly— “Everybody.” “Let’s get back, then,” said the doctor; “but we’ll keep out here on the terrace as far as we can. It is gruesome work trampling amongst the ashes of the fallen, interesting as it all is.” “I suppose we shall find another of those chimney-like flights of steps,” said Wilton; “but I was too much taken up with what we were doing to notice.” “I hope so,” replied the doctor, “but I saw nothing. I fancy, though, that this was the only way up into the town or city, and, judging by the appearance of the next terrace, it will be the last.” “Then we shall be able to get on to the top of the cliffs this way, sir,” said Griggs. “I really can’t say yet,” was the reply. “Let’s find the next shaft first, and see how far it goes.” They kept along the terrace where they could, but here and there the falling away of stones rendered it necessary for them to re-enter a cell and keep for a little distance along by the inner passage. But at last the first cell of the series was reached, and directly after they were standing at the top of the second stairway and looking about vainly for a third—the one that should give them a passage to the third floor of dwelling-places. “There must be a way,” said Griggs, as he stood scratching his head, “but I’m a bit puzzled. The upper rocks hang over here, and there seems to be no sign of anything having broken away.” “Let’s look in the first cell again,” said Chris; “perhaps it begins in there.” They stepped in to where the ashes lay piled-up and forming a slope on one side reaching half-way up the back wall, this portion not having been disturbed. “No way out of this place except into the next chamber,” said Griggs. “We shall have to look somewhere else. But didn’t you say we had found no weapons yet, sir?” he continued, addressing the doctor. “Yes; you have not seen any?” “Looks like a couple of those stone axes yonder,” said Griggs, pointing to the back of the sloping heap. “I’ll get them.” He took a couple of steps, and his feet sank in some depth. Then quickly taking another and another to preserve his equilibrium, he uttered a cry of annoyance, for his weight had set the whole of the heap of dust in motion, bringing part into the cell where they stood, while the rest glided like sand upon a slope, evidently sinking through a similar opening to that which led into the next chamber, but here formed in the wall exactly opposite to the window looking out on to the terrace. “Lend us a hand,” cried Griggs, and he snatched at one of those stretched out to his aid, following the rest in a hurried flight out of the place, for the whole of the ashes and bones were in motion and ran out through the back with a soft rushing sound. <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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