12 The Community House
Professor Longworth regained his rifle and belt, before he examined the dead bears. “How do I know that a whole herd of grizzlies will not come rushing out of the bushes after us?” he said whimsically. “Never again will I be so careless.”
Then, in the bright moonlight, they contemplated the dead monsters. They reckoned that the old male would weigh at least a thousand pounds—he was larger than the one that Charles and Herbert had met—and the female but little less. Their huge claws, many inches in length, were like terrible steel barbs.
“Ursus horribilis,” said the Professor. “They truly deserve the name. At close quarters nothing could withstand them. Those claws would rip up either a lion or a tiger.”
“Are we to let these great skins go to waste?” asked Charles.
“No. Fortunately I have had much experience in taking pelts and we will remove them. Then we’ll lug them up to the first platform and leave them there to dry until we can come again for them, when we’ll add them to the one we’ve already got.”
But skillful though Longworth was and efficient though Charles proved himself to be it was broad daylight before they finished taking the hides from the three bears. Then it was a tremendous task to get them up to the first platform, and the two were thoroughly exhausted.
But long before this was done they had visitors. Five great triangular heads were thrust from the bushes, and five pairs of burning eyes regarded them.
“Mountain wolves,” said the Professor. “They are big, fierce fellows, but they won’t attack us. They are waiting for a great feast here after we are gone, and they will get it. It seems a pity to leave two thousand pounds or more of bear meat for such woods rovers.”
“They’ll not be alone,” said Charles. “Look up.”
Far in the blue the forms of vultures were hovering.
“And I suppose there’ll be mountain lions, too, and other guests,” muttered the Professor. “Well, we’ll keep ’em waiting a while. It’s time for breakfast, Charles, and we’ll have some breakfast ourselves before leaving.”
They lighted the fire again and Longworth cut some of the tenderest steaks from the younger bear, which they cooked and found very good indeed. While this pleasant task was proceeding, a whining and growling came from the bushes. At least a dozen triangular heads appeared at the edge of the thicket. Overhead the vulture shapes had increased fivefold, and were hovering lower.
“The second table is in a hurry,” said the Professor, “but it will have to bide the good time of the first table. I’m not nearly through; are you, Charles?”
“Not by any means. Young bear is wonderfully good when you have a mountain appetite. Yes, thank you, I’ll take another piece. Does that whining and growling in the bushes annoy you, Professor?”
“It didn’t at first, but it does now. I’m getting too much of it. Suppose you take a rifle, my lad, and smash a hole in one of those ugly, triangular heads.”
Charles, nothing loath, sent a bullet at the largest of the heads. He heard a yell and saw a form leap upward and sink back into the bushes. Then came a terrific whining, barking and growling. It was such a horrible mingling of sound that Charles shivered.
“Merely a bit of cannibalism,” said the Professor, calmly, going on with his own breakfast. “They are eating the fellow you slew, and they are probably thanking you for the act. Ah, they are through now. They certainly ate him in a hurry.”
Noise in the bushes ceased, but no more heads were thrust out. Wolves learn fast and a single bullet had taught them the value of invisibility. The Professor rose presently and with an air of deep content stretched his arms.
“Now, Charles,” he said, “we’ll gather up our belongings and go, but we’ll do it with calmness and deliberation. The loss of a night’s sleep, a siege of seven or eight hours and much danger are not calculated to promote zeal and industry. We’ll leave slowly, and further down the valley, when we find a good place, we’ll take naps that we need badly.”
Charles saw the Professor’s mood and he shared it. He resented leaving the bodies of the bears to the wolves and vultures, and he intended to tantalize them as long as possible. They packed with great slowness, although the shadows of the hovering vultures sometimes fell on their faces, and two or three of the more reckless or more impatient wolves showed their heads again through the bushes.
They took with them enough tenderloin from the young bear to last two or three days, and finally departed. When they were less than a hundred feet away, they heard the rush of feet and the whirr of wings. They looked back and saw that the three bodies were covered with the black and gray of bird and beast.
“What an ignominious fate for the monarch of the mountains!” said Professor Longworth.
They kept along the edge of the shelf and then found an easy slope by which they descended into the valley. When they reached the bottom they came into a little grove of oaks. It was then about ten o’clock and the sun was growing warm. Both were becoming very weary and the Professor decided that they should spread their blankets in the heart of the grove and make up for their lost sleep.
“I think that we need not yet have any fear of Indians,” he said. “Undoubtedly this valley is too much isolated for them. At any rate I’m willing to take the risk. I want sleep badly.”
“I feel that I must have sleep or die,” said Charles, casting himself down on his blanket.
“You will have sleep and you will not die,” said the Professor, also stretching himself out on his own blanket.
The two were sound asleep in five minutes and nothing disturbed them in the grove. They were shaded by the oaks from the sun and a pleasant breeze blew, lulling them to deeper slumbers. It was the middle of the afternoon before they awoke, and when the Professor noted the time of day by the sun, his face showed satisfaction.
“Sleep not only knits up the raveled sleeve of care,” he said, “but it also strengthens sinew and tissue. We are men again, refreshed and reinvigorated. Now for some more of those bear steaks.”
After eating, they went further into the valley and found that a fine mountain creek flowed down its center. In places the water rippled over shallows, but at intervals it gathered in deep, still pools.
“Probably splendid trout here,” said Longworth, “but we’re not equipped for them now. As nearly as I can make out, Charles, this valley is about twenty miles long, and it seems to be closed, but undoubtedly we’ll find at the lower end an opening or slash in the mountains. In any event we’ll see.”
They traveled down the valley all the rest of the day. They saw several deer which were uncommonly tame, bearing out the Professor’s theory that man did not come there. They proceeded very deliberately as they had no reason for haste. In places the soil was very fertile and well wooded, but in others it was hard and rocky with signs now and then of a lava flow.
Above them they saw long mesas, thrust out like tongues, and back of these low peaks and ranges with higher mountains behind them. They also saw running back into the lower ranges little box canyons in which grew many low trees, with lofty pines scattered here and there. The cliffs, vivid red or yellow in color, were very soft, the Professor said, being composed mostly of pumice stone. Little streams flowed out of three of the canyons and emptied into the creek.
Finally they came to a huge wash which Professor Longworth entered, and from which presently came the pecking sound of his little geological hammer. But this sound was soon stopped by a wild cry of exultation. Charles, who had stopped at the edge, rushed down into the wash. The Professor had begun to peck again, but now frantically, with the hammer.
“It’s a find, a bone find, a find of prehistoric animals, Charlie, lad!” he cried. “Surely on this trip into the mountains I’m the luckiest man on earth!”
Longworth’s helmet which had been recovered undamaged was set on the back of his head, and he was making rock and earth fly from a huge hone that projected from the side of a gully. He had wholly forgotten the sun, which now blazed down upon him. But as Charles joined him he grew calmer.
“It’s tremendous luck that I came into this wash,” he said. “The bones of huge animals millions of years old are projecting everywhere. Here are the great lizard-like creatures and also crocodiles, gigantic monkeys and the Lord knows what. I’ve no doubt that a capable scientist could profitably spend his whole life in this valley.”
But the two only passed the day there. For a range of two or three miles they saw the bones, and Professor Longworth wrote in his notebook a long and minute description of the place.
“I shall come back here later with a properly equipped force,” he said. “Meanwhile we have to let them lie. Nobody else who knows anything about such things is likely to find them.”
“How do you account for the presence of such great animals so high above the sea?” asked the boy.
“It wasn’t high when the dinosaurus and the ichthyosaurus and the rest of them roamed about here. The vast plateau of western and southwestern North America seems to have been the greatest animal range in the world. Wyoming, which is now from 6,000 to 14,000 feet above the sea, was the heart of it, but the big game, and real big game it was, too, Charles, fairly swarmed here also. Huge animals, too huge to sustain well their own weight on land, waded in the marshes and shallow parts of the rivers, pulling down the long grass and tops of bushes for food. What a world that must have been, Charlie, lad! Think of the cave bears, by the side of which our grizzlies would have been puny, the monstrous saber-toothed tiger, two or three times as big as any that now grow, the immense mastodon and the mammoth perhaps fifty feet long. And back of them the great armored and lizard-like creatures, some of which may have grown one hundred and fifty feet in length. What a world! What a world! Charles, I would willingly take a year out of my life to be carried backward through time, and see this region as it was five million years ago!”
“Man then must have been pretty small potatoes and mighty few in a hill,” observed Charles.
“Undoubtedly he was,” said the Professor, whose eyes were still glowing. “Now, what was he five million years ago? We have nothing to go on, but he must have existed in some form even then. He may have run on four legs, but, whatever he was, he must have been physically a poor and inferior thing, hiding away in caves and burrows. The world belonged to the great animals. If you had no firearms, Charlie, lad, you would certainly be frightened if you met a saber-toothed tiger six feet high and fifteen feet long, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d be frightened if I had all the firearms in the world.”
Longworth laughed.
“So would I have been scared,” he said. “Man must have had a terrible time of it in those days. No doubt, countless millions of our ancestors were devoured by wild beasts. The mammoth, the mastodon, the saber-toothed tiger and the others must have looked down upon us as a very inferior order of beings. Perhaps it’s only in the last fifteen or twenty thousand years that we’ve been getting even.”
The Professor left the wash with great reluctance, and they camped among trees about two miles farther on. Here they passed an undisturbed night, and were ready the next morning to resume their journey down the valley.
As they had expected they found the great slash in the mountains through which the creek flowed. It was not more than fifty yards wide and was not visible until they came near. The stream here was about thirty feet wide and two or three feet deep, flowing over a rough, stony bed. But there was plenty of space between it and the mountain as it ran through the gorge, and they followed it until they emerged upon a vast sun-burned plateau, which looked like the wreck of a world consumed by fire.
“We’ll fill our water bottles again,” said Professor Longworth, “and follow the stream, though we’ll have to go high above it now. I’ve an idea that we are coming to a great canyon. This creek probably flows into the Colorado and goes ultimately through the Grand Canyon. It is the Grand Canyon of which all the world hears, but the west and southwest contain many other deep and beautiful canyons. There are dozens of great lateral canyons opening into those of the Colorado.”
They filled their water bottles, and took a long rest also. Then they began the passage of the great, volcanic plain, although the volcanic forces which had thrown up these mountains had been dead for ages. They soon left all timber behind them. The soil was stony and rough, and the sun blazing hot. They took occasional sips of water, but the evaporation was so great that they were as thirsty as ever five minutes later.
But thirst and heat did not dim Longworth’s enthusiasm, He looked upon every phase of this vast, dead region with the most eager interest.
“Perhaps nowhere else can anyone see the world in the making so well,” he said. “Here we behold in layer upon layer the processes of youth, maturity and decay. Have you observed, Charles, how this plain is rising?”
“I have. I have noticed it in several ways. I can see it with my eyes, and I can tell it by the strain upon my muscles. Moreover, Professor, I’m hot—awful hot.”
“But you can be and you are likely to be a great deal hotter,” said the Professor cheerfully. “We have left our little river, Charlie, lad, but it’s somewhere there on our right. In another mile we shall reach the crest of this plain, and then I want to turn in and see the stream.”
It was a long mile, with hard and sharp lava under foot and a ferocious sun overhead, but they made it and then turned in to the right, until they came to the stream, or rather its channel. Here they lay flat on their stomachs and gazed into the mighty depths below. The little river, eating away for untold centuries, had cut a tremendous slash across the vast plateau, on its way to the Colorado, and the two looked down upon a spectacle at once beautiful and appalling. They saw the thinnest thread of white water more than three thousand feet below. On both sides rose the cliffs, red and yellow, as the sun shone upon them, and carved by weather and time into fantastic shapes. The chasm did not seem to be more than two hundred feet across at the bottom, but at the top it was a thousand feet from edge to edge. Longworth examined it for more than hour through his glasses.
“Wonderful! Wonderful!” he said. “Ah, my boy, think what patience and industry allied can accomplish! See what a mighty chasm this little river has cut through solid stone in a few millions of years! And what a lesson it teaches us! Charlie, lad, it is one of the regrets of my life that I cannot live a thousand years. In a millennium I could learn something. I could make a fairly comprehensive study of earth and man. But as I cannot get the thousand, I’ll do the best I can in the seventy or eighty allotted to me.”
Charles was interested, too, on his own account and also because the enthusiasm of the Professor was contagious. All the singular phases of this strange, southwestern world appealed to him, and he had also the taste for knowledge.
“Professor,” he said, “the plateau seems to descend now. I can see mountains on the far side.”
“So can I,” said Longworth, and then he studied them through his glasses.
“They are at least forty miles away,” he said, “and they seem to be bare. But we’ll keep on until we reach them.”
“Suppose we turn back into one of the little box canyons,” said Charles, “and stay there until night. Then we can travel in the cool dark.”
“A good idea,” said Longworth. “These box canyons are hot, but sometimes you can find something at the head of them that will keep you cool.”
They turned at once from the stream toward the mountain on their left, and passed up one of the box canyons. It was hotter there than on the plateau, but when they came to its end, they found a deep hollow opening in the stone. Charles was surprised to find how far back it ran, and how cool it was under the shade of the stone.
“Our cliff-dwelling friends have been here,” said Longworth, “although they probably have been gone also for some centuries. It is likely that we’d find just such a house as this at the head of every one of these canyons. But one is enough for our purpose. We’ll sleep here in the shade.”
They slept in the dark, cool shade until the night was more than two hours old. Then they awoke and started again, refreshed greatly. They walked all night, cooked bear steaks at dawn, and finding another cliff house in a canyon, remained there throughout the day, sleeping most of the time. Before dawn on the following morning they reached the end of the plain and entered bare and sterile mountains. But they were fortunate enough to find a spring containing an abundance of cool, fresh water, and they slept beside it in the partial shade of some stunted pinons.
They did not resume their exploration until late in the afternoon and then they found their little river flowing between desolate banks of black basalt. It seemed to have lost some of its water by evaporation, but it was now not more than three or four hundred feet below the level of the earth, and after much hunting they found a descent to its waters where they replenished their own supply.
The Professor with his glasses saw a valley ahead, which they expected to enter on the following day.
“It seems to be sterile, except in spots,” he said, “but there is bound to be water, since our river flows through it somewhere. I can make out patches of vegetation here and there, but I should say that on the whole it is decidedly inferior to the valley that we have just left.”
Charles shot a mule deer that day, a fine fat young buck, and they were very glad to get such a good supply of game. Having used the best of the flesh for two meals, they took a good supply with them, and entered the valley which had steep slopes and but scanty vegetation.
“The cliff dwellers have been here, too,” said Professor Longworth, whose keen eyes nothing escaped. “See how they have irrigated wherever possible on these barren slopes. Now here are the remains of a little dam, which could not have watered more than twenty square feet of ground, and there is another dam, one of stone, almost as good as it was when it was built.”
They found one section of soft cliff that looked like a huge beehive. The little people had scooped innumerable holes in the rock, none of them running back very far, but all quite livable, according to the cliff dweller standard. They spent some time in examining a number and found them mostly blackened with smoke. There were places cut out in the walls as depositories for tools or weapons. Much broken pottery was scattered about the floors.
“More mystery. More mystery,” said Professor Longworth, musingly. “Why did these people disappear so entirely before the white man came? It surely could not have been wholly due to the ravages of Apaches, Utes and other Indians.”
They left the slopes, found their little river again and followed it down the valley. They again saw evidence of much big game, bear, deer and mountain lion, but no sign of human life. Toward night they saw to the left of the river a large structure in a fair state of preservation, which the Professor welcomed with a shout of delight.
“It is one of the communal dwellings of the little people,” he said. “Good fortune is still with us. But as we are tired we’ll let our prize wait until morning. It is something wonderful to which we have come, Charles, and we ought to approach it with fresh minds and fresh bodies.”
But they were up at earliest dawn and entered the great communal dwelling. It was built of heavy stones, and across the front was a row of twenty rooms, of uniform size, that is, about six feet wide and about ten feet long. All these rooms opened to the south.
This row sent off a short wing of rooms at each end toward the north. Each wing contained six rooms, the same in size as those in the front row. The row and the wings enclosed a great estufa or central court and back of the court was an immense burial mound.
“This and others like it probably represent the highest architectural achievement of the cliff dwellers and their kindred of the mesa and the plain,” said Professor Longworth. “Thirty or forty families dwelt here, with a complete tribal and communal life. The workmanship of these rooms is good, too.”
The outer walls of the building were about a foot and a half thick, made of two layers of stone placed six or eight inches apart. The face of the outer row was dressed, and the space between the two was filled with bowlders and adobe. The partitions between the rooms were made of a single row of stones about eight inches thick.
The estufa was choked with pottery, fallen stones and other remains. In the opinion of the Professor it was originally sunk below the surface of the surrounding ground. Back of it loomed the great burial mound, now partly covered with vegetation. Charles would have passed it by as merely a hill, but the Professor knew better.
“Enough people,” he said, “lie inside that hill to make a great tribe, if they could rise from the dead. It may have been used as a burial mound for a thousand years, and, if we were to dig into it, we’d probably find skeletons within three feet of the surface. They lie there, hundreds and hundreds, heaped upon one another, layer after layer, pottery and other household articles are also buried with them. But they’ll lie untouched by us. This, too, must wait another day. But doesn’t it awe you a little, Charles, to look upon all this ruin and think how completely its people have vanished?”
“It does give me a queer feeling,” replied the boy, “standing as it does in all this loneliness and desolation out here in these wild mountains. Let’s go in, Professor, and examine some of the rooms.”
“That will be profitable work,” replied Longworth eagerly, “but we’ll keep our weapons with us, Charles. We’ll not make such a mistake as we did back at the tower.”
They spent a long time prowling from room to room, and examining the relics, which consisted chiefly of pottery, stone weapons and stone implements for cooking. Longworth saw much that he would have liked to take away, but he knew that they could not burden themselves for the return trip.
They were so interested that it was noon before they realized it. The day was uncommonly hot and the rays of the sun blazed vertically overhead.
“I propose that we take our luncheon in one of the houses that still has a roof on it,” suggested the boy. “It will be dark and cool in there.”
“A good idea,” said Longworth, “we must not overexert or overheat ourselves in our zeal.”
They selected a house in the center of the first row, over which the roof, partly of stone and partly of wood, was almost perfect. Its temperature was good, and as they sat on stones they ate their luncheon and enjoyed the grateful coolness. The cold water in the thermos bottles was exceedingly refreshing, and they drank freely, knowing that an abundant supply was near at hand.
The Professor closed his eyes and dreamed a little. Charles thought at first that he was asleep. But he was not. He opened his eyes presently and seemed to be looking at something far away.
“Charlie, lad,” he said, “my mind had gone back hundreds of years. I was reproducing this great communal dwelling, as it must have been, maybe a thousand years ago. I saw the people at work with their stone implements along the slopes, irrigating and hoeing their little fields of maize and beans, and other grains and vegetables. They were a dark race, perhaps not more than five feet high, but they were thick and strong, and wonderfully sure of foot. Men and women worked together in the fields, and now and then they sang strange old songs, which are lost forever.
“The girls were bringing water from the river in low, wide jars which they balanced on their heads. They were very smooth of face, with a glow in their dusky cheeks. Their long black hair probably fell in loose coils. They, too, sang those strange old songs which are lost to all the world, and I’ve no doubt that the young men, as they looked up from their work in the fields, thought the girls very fair.
“Here, just in front of the row of houses, the old men sat in the cool of the evening. They were the village elders or heads. They took tallies of the work, they saw that plenty of water had been brought, and they heard reports from the scouts who had gone far down into the lower valley to watch for their enemies. They must have been watching always, and I’ve no doubt that the bold, skillful and strong among the young men took turns at it. They probably cooked their evening meal on the ground in front of the building, and perhaps they had no fires or lights of any kind in the houses. So they probably went to sleep as soon as dark came, and were up with the first bars of dawn. It was a perfectly organized little community, working hard and always on guard against those unknown enemies in the valley below.”
“What did they do in winter?” asked Charlie. “All these mountains fill up with snow then?”
“Winter must have been their resting time. When they got in all their vegetables and grain and their supplies of meat, which they must have obtained mostly by traps and pitfalls, they stayed snugly in this great house, and let the show heap up about them. Then the men hammered out their stone tools and dishes and tanned deer and bear skins. The women plaited baskets and made robes and mantles of turkey feathers. There were feasts and celebrations, courting and marrying and giving in marriage. Don’t you think, Charlie, lad, that knowing nothing of the world without, and hence having nothing finer to envy, they could have been pretty warm and comfortable here?”
“It certainly seems so to me, especially when a blizzard was yelling along the slopes and through the passes.”
They resumed the work of examination, but did not carry it on more than two or three hours, as the afternoon was very hot. Then they retreated again to the dark, cool shade of the house, and owing to the heat, decided to light no fire, making their supper of cold food.
“We’ll lie here until the night comes,” said Longworth, “but for the sake of air we’ll sleep outside.”
Charles was content, and, spreading out his blanket for the sake of softness, he lay down upon it. His exertions and the heat threw him into a deep languor, and gradually his eyes closed. Professor Longworth did not disturb him, and soon he was asleep. But the boy came back to wakefulness with the Professor’s hand upon his shoulder.
“Open your eyes, Charles,” whispered the man, “but don’t speak. Above all, make no noise of any kind.”
The man’s words were tense, thrilling, and Charles knew instinctively that some great danger had come. He rose to a sitting position. It was full night now, but they could discern objects at fifty yards. The boy’s eyes followed the man’s pointing finger, and he saw six dusky figures standing, almost in a row, and looking at the old building.
They were Indians, tall, built powerfully, long of hair and naked, except for the breech cloth and moccasins. All of them carried rifles and there were knives in their belts. They stood there staring, but the man and boy were well hidden in the low room.
“What are they?” whispered Charles.
“Utes, I think,” replied Longworth in a similar whisper. “Probably a hunting party that has wandered far south. The Utes are formidable Indians and this band would be too much for us in a fight, but we are not in as much danger as we seem, Charles. The Indians from further north regard these ruins with awe. They think they are haunted by the ghosts of those who once dwelled here. All savage peoples, as I have remarked before, are naturally superstitious. I think we’d better lie flat on the floor, Charles, while we are peeping at them. Then they cannot possibly see us, and I want to watch everything they do.”
The Utes came forward three or four paces, and then stopped again. They never ceased to regard the great communal dwelling. The Professor laughed low.
“They are divided between curiosity and superstition,” he said. “Considering their early training and what they are they are certainly brave men. Now superstition is holding them, for they remain in their tracks. Now courage has overcome superstition as they advance another step, but only one. See, they stop, and I would wager that they are trembling with awe. Bravo! How the mind triumphs over cowardly flesh! They have come forward another step!”
“But what if they keep on coming?” whispered Charles.
“Then it would be a very dark night for us. But we are in no danger. Not the slightest. Did you ever hear me groan?”
“What do you mean by that, Professor?”
“You’ll soon see that I’m one of the finest groaners you ever heard, and, on occasion, fine groaning is an exceedingly valuable accomplishment. Listen!”
Charles’ blood ran cold as a most awful sound, like the cry of a lost soul, rose by his side. It began in a sigh, turned to a moan, then swelled to a shrill, weird pitch, and died away in an agonized sob, which the valley gave back in echoes, scarcely less poignant than the original. The whole atmosphere of the place was changed. The dead had come back and the skeletons walked in rows, arm in arm.
Charles saw the Utes jump into the air and retreat a dozen steps. Then they paused, evidently trying to gather up their courage, but that awful cry arose again and then a third time. They were brave men, but they could stand no more. Uttering six simultaneous howls of terror they dashed down the valley.
Far in their northern villages the returning hunters told how they had found a great ruined building, haunted and guarded by its own dead.
Professor Longworth rose to his feet and laughed in a satisfied way.
“As a groaner you must lead the world,” said Charles admiringly, “and it certainly came in handy. We have won a splendid victory without firing a shot.”
“We can now go outside and sleep,” said the Professor. “They will never come back. To-morrow I think we’d better start for home.”
They slept peacefully, and began their return journey.
They camped one evening, in a stony little valley, enclosed with a rim of pines and cedars. As the nights were always chilly, and fallen wood was plentiful, they built a fire where the largest of the pines would protect them from the wind, and made ready for supper.
“We’ll gather some of the loose stones so plentiful about here,” said Professor Longworth, “and do our cooking upon them.”
Charles walked down toward a small basin, about twenty feet in circumference, in the center of which detached stones lay in abundance. He picked up two, but deciding that one would not suit his purpose, dropped it when he was about five feet away from the center. When he reached the edge of the basin he happened to look back, and he uttered a cry of amazement.
The stone he had dropped was moving along the ground. It was a slow motion, but it was perceptible. Charles stared in astonishment. The twilight was coming and he thought at first that he must be suffering from some optical illusion. He shook his head. His brain was certainly all right, and so were his eyes. There was the stone creeping along the earth toward the huddled group at the center, in which it had lain. It was one of the most uncanny things that he had ever seen, and he felt a chill run along his spine. Then he laughed at himself. It could not possibly signify any kind of danger.
He put down at his feet the second stone which he had retained in his hands and watched it. It was about four inches in diameter and would have weighed several pounds. Again that chill ran down his spine. The second stone gathered itself up, as it were, and began to creep toward the common center. He went down to the group of stones, took two more and put them down on the ground at a distance of about five feet. The same extraordinary thing happened. These stones, like their predecessors, began to return toward the common center. ’
The curiosity of Charles was aroused intensely and he tried the experiment with others, and yet others. Not one of them failed. All began their slow return to the common center. The basin was filled with creeping stones.
“Charlie, lad,” called the Professor, “why don’t you come with the stones? The fire is ready!”
“These stones are unwilling to come, Professor. Whenever I put one down it makes at once for its old home.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m not joking. Just you come and see.”
The Professor stepped to the edge of the basin, and he uttered a cry of pleasure.
“What do you make of it?” the boy asked. “I never saw such a curious thing before.”
“But I have,” said Longworth. “I’ve seen the walking stones in shallow basins in Nevada, but I did not know that there were any down here. Their behavior will impress and even terrify the unlearned in such matters, but the explanation is scientific and simple. All of these stones are powerfully charged with lodestone or magnetic iron ore. See how they are gathered together in a cluster like a basket of fruit. But while I say the explanation is simple, Charlie, it is also impressive. We’re only beginning to explore the hidden forces of nature. Just think what man will know ten thousand years from now!”
But Charles did not bother himself much about ten thousand years hence. After supper he experimented again and again with the stones, and they never failed to “walk.”
They started once more the next morning, and on the way they gathered the bear skins which they had left in the tower, and which were now quite dry. They made a safe return and their comrades received them with joy, listening with wonder to the tale of their adventures.