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"
There
are
no
Indians
in
any
of
the
caves
above
our
heads
,
"
said
I.
"
They
are
all
used
as
barns
and
store-houses
.
Why
should
we
not
go
up
now
at
once
and
spy
out
the
land
?
"
There
is
a
dry
bituminous
wood
upon
the
plateau
--
a
species
of
araucaria
,
according
to
our
botanist
--
which
is
always
used
by
the
Indians
for
torches
.
Each
of
us
picked
up
a
faggot
of
this
,
and
we
made
our
way
up
weed-covered
steps
to
the
particular
cave
which
was
marked
in
the
drawing
.
It
was
,
as
I
had
said
,
empty
,
save
for
a
great
number
of
enormous
bats
,
which
flapped
round
our
heads
as
we
advanced
into
it
.
As
we
had
no
desire
to
draw
the
attention
of
the
Indians
to
our
proceedings
,
we
stumbled
along
in
the
dark
until
we
had
gone
round
several
curves
and
penetrated
a
considerable
distance
into
the
cavern
.
Then
,
at
last
,
we
lit
our
torches
.
It
was
a
beautiful
dry
tunnel
with
smooth
gray
walls
covered
with
native
symbols
,
a
curved
roof
which
arched
over
our
heads
,
and
white
glistening
sand
beneath
our
feet
.
We
hurried
eagerly
along
it
until
,
with
a
deep
groan
of
bitter
disappointment
,
we
were
brought
to
a
halt
.
A
sheer
wall
of
rock
had
appeared
before
us
,
with
no
chink
through
which
a
mouse
could
have
slipped
.
There
was
no
escape
for
us
there
.
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We
stood
with
bitter
hearts
staring
at
this
unexpected
obstacle
.
It
was
not
the
result
of
any
convulsion
,
as
in
the
case
of
the
ascending
tunnel
.
The
end
wall
was
exactly
like
the
side
ones
.
It
was
,
and
had
always
been
,
a
cul-desac
.
"
Never
mind
,
my
friends
,
"
said
the
indomitable
Challenger
.
"
You
have
still
my
firm
promise
of
a
balloon
.
"
Summerlee
groaned
.
"
Can
we
be
in
the
wrong
cave
?
"
I
suggested
.
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"
No
use
,
young
fellah
,
"
said
Lord
John
,
with
his
finger
on
the
chart
.
"
Seventeen
from
the
right
and
second
from
the
left
.
This
is
the
cave
sure
enough
.
"
I
looked
at
the
mark
to
which
his
finger
pointed
,
and
I
gave
a
sudden
cry
of
joy
.
"
I
believe
I
have
it
!
Follow
me
!
Follow
me
!
"