pointed out, was a work of art, each block of stone having been cut to fit the aperture for which it was intended, and even then appeared to have been literally "ground in", like the valve of an engine, so perfectly did it fit. It was about two feet in thickness, but it slowly succumbed to the onslaught of the fresh attack. Two more stones were dislodged after having been partly hewn away, and Dickpa called a halt, pointing out that the breach was now large enough to admit them.
Biggles put his head and shoulders through the hole and stared into the pitch blackness. " Pass me the flashlight," he said.
"Well, what can you see?" asked Dickpa impatiently, for the others were unable to reach the hole, which Biggles's body almost filled.
"Nothing," came the disappointed answer. "Not a blooming thing except rock; and there'
s plenty of that."
"What?" exclaimed Dickpa incredulously. "Nothing?"
"There's no treasure, if that's what you mean, but it looks as if the cave goes right on, which is something, anyway. Pass the tools and things along. We can't go back, so we've no choice but to go forward."
Biggles disappeared through the hole, and, after the tools and equipment had been handed through, the others joined him. They found that the cave widened considerably behind the wall, as if it had been enlarged by human hands.
"It certainly looks as if we've drawn a blank," observed Dickpa. " 'And when they got there the cupboard was bare,' so to speak," he quoted sadly. "I must confess I am very disappointed; not that it seems to matter very much now. The treasure wouldn't be much good to us even if we found it. Well, it isn't here, so that's the end of it."
"I don't know so much," replied Biggles slowly. He was running his hands carefully over the inside of the wall, and presently he struck a match and peered closely at it. "Now I'll tell you something," he muttered in a voice that trembled slightly.
"This wall wasn't built from the other side at all—I mean the way we came in. It was built from this side. This wall was built because the priests—or whoever they were—
knew about the back door that opened on to the stream and they decided to block it up. They probably went down there for fresh air and water while they were building. That's about it," he went on excitedly. "It was on such an occasion that some silly ass amused himself by doing a little rock-carving practice, or maybe it wasn't just carelessness after all. The fellow concerned might have had an idea at the back of his mind of coming round to the back door when the job was done and helping himself to the odd spot of gold. That's just the sort of thing some crafty priest might have done. There are all sorts of clefts and caves in these mountains—at least, so you've told us—so naturally it would be a wise precaution to mark the only one that really mattered."
"And it looks as if some scrimshanker was already pilfering the treasure," suggested Dickpa. "He must have dropped that piece of gold I found. But do you realise what it means?"
"Of course I do." broke in Biggles. "It means that the people who built the wall must have gone out the way they came. In other words, there is a way out into the open air somewhere ahead up the cave, and that's about as much as I'm concerned with at the moment. Once let me clap my peepers on blue sky again, and I shall think twice before I start burrowing underground again. I'm no mole."
"You're dead right about the wall!" exclaimed Dickpa, who was examining it minutely in the beam of the flashlamp and comparing it with the other side. "The joints are not quite so close. The rocks are cut slightly wedge-shaped and then driven in like a plug in a barrel. No wonder it was air-tight."
"That's what I thought," agreed Biggles. "But dash the wall! I've seen enough of it. Let's get a move on and see where the cave leads to. I'm pining to see the sky again." They picked up their bags, and, with Biggles leading the way with the flashlight, they filed up the narrow passage.
"Hullo, what's this?" he cried suddenly, after they had gone a short distance. "Steps, by James, steps! What do you know about that? It strikes me that this might still be the way to Attaboy's old oak chest!"
"Atahuallpha," snapped Dickpa irritably.
But Biggles wasn't listening. He gave a grunt of disappointment as the short flight of steps ended abruptly and they found themselves in a similar passage to the one below. They went on slowly, and presently came to more steps.
"Phew!" muttered Biggles, when they reached the top and saw the tunnel stretching away in front of them again. "I must have a drink; this is heavy going."
"You notice that we are going up all the time?" Dickpa pointed out. "That floor of the cave slopes upwards all the way. It looks to me as if they cut these steps at the most difficult places—places where there was a sudden drop—to save using ropes."
"It looks that way to me," agreed Biggles, as they again resumed their march. The cave seemed interminable. In places the ceiling was so high that the flashlight failed to reveal the roof, and at others it was so low that they had to stoop to pass. Steps occurred frequently: sometimes only two or three, sometimes twenty or more, and on one occasion there were so many that they lost count. And all the time the floor of the cave rose steeply upwards. In one place, however, Biggles nearly had a nasty fall, for there was a sudden unexpected flight of steep steps leading downwards, and he only saw them just as he was stepping off into space.
"Here, my lad, you had better have a rope round you," cautioned Dickpa. "Algy, pass that rope along; this is no place for somebody to break a leg." Biggles at first protested, but finally submitted to being tied round the waist with the rope they had brought with them, and they proceeded with Algy holding the other end. A few minutes later, Algy, who wanted to use both hands to manipulate his water-bottle, carelessly tied the rope around his own waist. They stopped at a fairly wide part of the cave to eat some food and take a rest, for the atmosphere was heavy and they were all nearly exhausted. They had lost all count of time and distance. Indeed, as Algy remarked, they seemed to have been walking along the passage not merely a matter of hours, but of days.
The upward incline of the floor became even steeper soon after they had resumed their march, and all of them were soon feeling the strain.
"Never mind, it's a long lane that has no turning," panted Algy.
"This must be the one the fellow who said that was thinking of," gasped Biggles. "Look 1" He broke off short with a sharp yell of fright. What came next occurred so suddenly that for a moment or two Algy could not think what had happened. He heard Biggles's startled cry and then he was whipped off his feet, knocking Dickpa sprawling as he fell. An invisible hand seemed to be dragging him along the floor of the cave. He grunted as Smyth flung himself upon him and the motion stopped. He raised his eyes, and then shuddered as he found himself staring into space. It was quite dark, but the sky was ablaze with stars. Then, as his muddled faculties began to work again, he looked down and saw Biggles about twenty feet below, dangling on the end of the rope over a sheer chasm, the bottom of which was lost in Stygian blackness. He was turning round slowly, like a joint on a spit, and then his voice came floating up to them.
"Hi!" he called, staring up into Algy's startled face. "Haul me up—the rope's going!
Make haste!"
Algy felt Dickpa's body kneeling beside him, and heard his swift, concise instructions.
"Haul steadily, everybody, when I give the word. Smyth, slip your coat under the rope where it chafes on the edge of the cliff or the rock will cut it like a piece of cotton. Algy, crawl backwards as we heave and hang on to anything you can reach; if he starts slipping, you'll both go. Now!" he yelled.
Then followed a period of pulling and struggling, which to Algy seemed like a horrid nightmare from which he could not awake. From some distance down the cave he saw Biggles's face appear over the edge of the cliff; there was a quick scuffle, punctuated with gasps and grunts, and then Biggles fell headlong into the cave, where he lay breathing heavily.
Algy, when the tension on the rope relaxed, sank limply to the floor; blood was runn
ing down his face from a nasty cut in his forehead, and his whole body ached with bruises from the battering it had received.
"Why the dickens don't you look where you're going?" he snarled when he could get his breath.
"If you think—I just—leapt—into space—for fun —you're wrong," panted Biggles furiously. "Holy mackerel! Brazil—where the nuts come from. Bah! Where the mutts go to would be nearer the mark. What about a nice quiet evening listening-in or something for a change? Where are we, anyway?"
"Don't try and be funny," growled Algy.
"Funny! Ha, ha! If you think it's funny hanging suspended over nothing on a piece of string, you have a go at it. I'm no spider."
"Well, you said you wanted to see the sky; now you've seen -it. What are you grumbling about? There it is," concluded Algy airily, pointing towards the opening of the cave.
"You went out so fast that you thundering well nearly
missed seeing it altogether," observed Dickpa, who was lying at full length on the brink of the cliff cautiously trying to see if he could find a continuation of the path. "I can't see anything except cliff," he went on. "We shall have to sit still and wait for daylight before we do anything else."
"That suits me remarkably well," agreed Biggles. "I've had all the mountain climbing I want for one day. How often do they have earthquakes here?"
"Why?"
"I should hate another to come along and pitch us out of that hole," replied Biggles. "Has anyone got the time?"
"You busted my watch when you slid out of the window," stated Algy.
"And I forgot to wind mine up," announced Dickpa, "but, judging by the position of the Southern Cross, I should say it's well after midnight."
"Roll on, morning," murmured Biggles, settling himself down at full length and using a haversack for a pillow.
CHAPTER XIII
MAROONED
THEY dozed fitfully on and off until a grey tinge, slowly turning to pink, diffused the sky. Presently a shaft of brilliant light caught a projecting ledge of rock, causing it to glow like a living flame.
"Oh," groaned Biggles, sitting up and stretching stiffly. "Let us have a look-see," he mumbled, crawling on all fours towards the oval-shaped section of light that marked the entrance—or rather the exit—of the cave. Lying flat on his stomach, he looked out over the edge, and the sight that met his gaze was so stupendous that in spite of their predicament he uttered a low cry of admiration.
In front of them, level with their eyes, stretched an array of minarets of red rock, the tops glowing like points of orange fire in the light of the rising sun. Between them were deep wells of cold blue shadows in which soft, downy billows of mist hung motionless. Immediately below was a vast crater, the bottom of which was hidden under a curtain of purple shade, so profound and intense that it seemed possible to reach out and touch it. Biggles caught his breath as he stared unbelievingly. The scene was unreal, fantastic, as if they were looking at another world. A slight movement made him look up, and he half smiled when he saw the others crowding behind him, lost in wonderment at the glorious panorama. Something above, and slightly to one side, caught his eye, and his sharp ejaculation brought Dickpa forward, trying to ascertain the cause of it.
"Steps!" said Biggles tensely. "This is a way out, after all, but, by the anti-clockwise propeller of my
sainted aunt, it is a staircase that I, for one, am not anxious to tread. I don't mind looking down when I've a couple of wings each side of me, but it is going to be heady work scaling that crazy gangway."
"Can you see where it leads to, or how far it extends?" asked Algy curiously.
"No—hold my feet in case I slip—that's right. The steps start about half-way up the side of the cave and wind round out of sight somewhere over the top. Well, wherever they lead to, we've got to follow them, but I don't mind admitting that we've got a bit too high up in the world for my liking. Who's going first?"
"I'll go," offered Dickpa promptly.
"No, I'll go," returned Biggles decisively. "I'm the lightest. I'll rope myself up again, and you can brace yourself to take the strain of my fall in case I slip or the steps break down. I'll tell you what it's like as I go, and then you will know what to expect." Without further ado, he fastened the rope tightly about his waist and, seizing a projecting crag, swung himself outwards and up. He was lost to sight instantly, and a short silence followed. A piece of rock bounced down, struck the lip of the cave, and bounded away into space; instinctively Algy listened for it to strike the bottom, but it might have fallen into a bottomless pit for all the noise it made.
"Hullo, there!" came Biggles's voice from what seemed to be a great distance away. " Can you hear me?"
"Can — you — hear — me — you — hear — me —hear—me?" rang the echoes, becoming fainter and fainter in the distance.
Dickpa cupped his hands around his mouth. "Yes!" he answered.
"Yes—yes—yes," came the echoes.
"Dash those echoes," snarled Algy. "They give me the creeps."
"Listen," came Biggles's voice again. "I'm at the end of the rope. Let it go. You can follow—it's quite
safe—but don't look down. Come one at a time, because there is some loose rock about and someone might get a crack on the head. Bring the haversacks and what tools you can."
"I'm coming!" shouted Algy, and rose to his feet. His face was rather pale as he seized the crag, swung outwards, and reached with his feet for the bottom step of the dizzy stairway. Following Biggles's instructions, he did not look down, but kept his eyes fixed upwards. At first he could only see a long, curving line of steps that disappeared against the skyline above a rounded dome of rock, but as it mounted higher he saw that it led to a wide open space, with a large pyramid-shaped hill beyond. Biggles was sitting comfortably on a large square stone at the end of the stairway. Algy joined him breathlessly. "By the bones of Icarus," he muttered, "I may be what the newspapers describe as a birdman, but I'm no steeplejack; I wouldn't go down that path for something."
Biggles grinned. "Nor I," he said, "not if half a dozen Attaboys' treasures were at the '
bottom"• and
then, raising his voice, "Come on the next!" he called. Presently Smyth's head appeared above the top of the rock and the mechanic threw himself down with a sigh of relief. "Blimey," he murmured, "what's our `ceiling' at this game? We've got a bit too much altitude for my liking, and the sooner we throttle back and lose a bit of it the better I shall be pleased."
Biggles laughed. "You're not the only one," he said. "Come on, Dickpa." Dickpa, with his haversack held in his teeth, clambered over the brow of the cliff and sank down beside them. "You were moaning for the blue sky a little while ago, Biggles. Well, now you can see it—all of it," he observed, looking around at the scene of colossal grandeur. "Hullo, what are you sitting on?" he went
on quickly, noticing the rock on which Biggles was seated. He examined it closely, but it revealed nothing of particular interest, and he turned again to look at the place to which they had ascended.
It was an open plateau about two miles long by a mile wide, with a surface of flat rock in most places, but here and there a few stunted trees and bushes eked out a precarious existence in fissures that had been filled up with earth by the wind. Above them, on the far side of the plateau, towered the pyramid-shaped rock. It was clear that they were on the summit of one of the huge flat-topped masses of rock that are such a common feature in the Matto Grosso, and which had been caused, as Dickpa explained, by the subsidence of the surrounding earth, and not by the upheaval of the rock itself. "The plateau was at one time level with the surrounding country," he went on. "You see, it's all volcanic; the colour of the rock tells you that. At some time in the past it has been subjected to terrific heat, perhaps more than once—but come on, let us walk round and see if we can locate ourselves or find a way down."
They set off at a steady pace along the edge of the cliff, and soon discovered they were overlooking the mountains
on the opposite side of the cliff from where they had entered the cave. In several places the neighbouring peaks were only a short distance away—so close, in fact, that Algy was once able to throw a stone over the intervening abyss. But everywhere the cliff dropped absolutely perpendicularly, sometimes only a few hundred feet, but more often two or three thousand feet, but in either case it was the same as far as they were concerned. There was not a single place where there was even a remote hope of getting down; no living creature could descend the precipitous wall. They had traversed more than half the circumference of the plateau, and were just beginning to abandon hope—for they knew there was no possible way down on the opposite side, except through the cave, which was now effectually blocked—when Biggles, who had hurried on ahead, uttered a wild "Whoop," which brought the others on at a run. They joined him, and looked eagerly at a huge buttress of rock which jutted out some distance ahead, at about their own height, and seemed to be a sort of offset from one of the nearby mountains. It appeared to reach the plateau, but for some minutes they were unable to determine whether or not it did actually join up. In his impatience to find out, Biggles threw himself down near the edge of the cliff and peered along the side of it. He was on his feet again immediately. "Nothing doing," he said shortly, concealing his disappointment with difficulty. "It doesn't quite reach; I can see daylight between." They marched on in melancholy silence, for it began to look as if they had escaped death in one form only to meet it in another.
"I've heard of people being marooned at sea, but never on land," Biggles went on a few moments later, "and the funny part of it is, I could land an aeroplane up here quite easily—in fact, it looks like a ready-made aerodrome. A machine taking-off wouldn't have to climb for height; she'd just take off level and she'd have all the height she wanted right away. Well, we're up here and the plane's at the bottom, so it's no use talking about it, I suppose," he concluded gloomily.
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