Chapter XIX: The Lost City

From his hopeless perch, Biff heard Kamuka and Chuba shouting up above. “Come on, you fellows!” they yelled. “Lend a hand!” They were calling to Li and Chandra, who were still coming up the granite steps, but it was useless. Biff and Mike represented too much dead weight, even for all four.

Mike had Biff’s wrist in a powerful grip. They were face to face as Biff looked up and said, “You’ll have to let go, Mike. They may be able to haul you back, but not both of us.”

“It’s both,” gritted Mike, “or neither!”

“But you’ll only be dragging the others along, too. Can’t you understand?”

“No.” Mike grinned grimly as he was jolted upward. Then, as he slipped back downward, he added, “Yes.”

Mike realized that Li had joined Chuba and Kamuka; that with Li’s helping hand, they had managed a temporary lift, only to lose what little they had gained. But Mike still gripped Biff.

“Chandra will be helping them next,” Mike said reassuringly. “With four pulling, it will make a difference.”

“Yes, they’ll manage to hold on a little longer,” groaned Biff, “but it can’t change things, Mike. They still can haul you up, if you’ll only let go.”

“Only I _won’t_ let go!”

A sharp sound was beating through Biff’s brain. It came, “Crack—crack—crack—” in deadly monotone. He imagined he heard a new voice too, Chandra’s voice, saying, “I’ll be there, Biff!” Then came the “Crack—crack—” and again, “I’ll be there—” closer, it seemed, and just below. For the first time, Biff steeled his nerve and looked down.

Chandra _was_ there! On the curving brink itself, hanging to the ice where it was steeper than the spot where Biff himself was stretched. In his hand, Chandra held his axe, which he had retrieved after hurling it at the bear. With it, he was chopping into the ice, making those “Crack—crack—” sounds. Chandra hadn’t gone up the steps to join the boys above. Instead, he had hacked steps of his own into the fringe of the icefall!

He’d made enough to gain hand and toeholds for himself. Working up from those at an outward angle, he had literally chopped a slanted ladder, climbing it as he did. Now he was denting the ice beside Biff’s right ankle. That done, he shoved Biff’s right foot into place. Biff shifted his weight in that direction. Instantly the strain on Mike lessened just enough for him to open his half-closed eyes and stare downward in wonder.

Crack—crack—crack—

There was a toehold for Biff’s left foot now. That really eased the strain, for Mike’s body immediately moved up a bit, pulled by the boys above. Chandra kept hacking, more steps, higher; Biff kept climbing the new ones, leaving the old to Chandra, who promptly followed. Then suddenly, Mike was up to safety and they were hauling Biff up, too, when he gasped:

“Wait! I’m bringing Chandra, too!”

So Biff was, for by now Chandra was tiring. He clung to Biff’s leg with one hand and kept chopping steps with the other, just enough to work himself up. Then hands from above gripped Chandra, and he and Biff were hauled up side by side.

Kamuka found a board from an old catwalk and used it to bridge the gap across the missing steppingstone. One by one, the boys crossed the frozen stream above the mammoth icefall. They found steps on the other side and descended for nearly half a mile before they overtook the party. Charles Keene, Barma Shah, Hurdu, and all the rest were waiting on a great, wide lookout platform, viewing a stupendously breathtaking scene.

There, set in a tremendous niche across the mile-deep gorge, was the Lost City of Chonsi. There were small stone huts in the foreground. These, if seen from straight above, would look like nothing more than rock heaps. But the pride of Chonsi, the palace of the Grand Lama, rose above a towering array of great stone steps and castellated walls forming tier after tier of magnificent buildings to a height of nearly five hundred feet, only to be dwarfed by the more tremendous mass of the cliff that overhung it.

From the top of the great gorge it would be impossible even to glimpse this hidden wonder of the Himalayas in the massive hollow that had been hewn to contain it. Yet its relation to the gorge was such that sunlight streamed down into this secret setting during a good proportion of the day.

Barma Shah summed it up when he stated:

“There is an old saying: ‘As long as the Himalayas stand, so will Chonsi.’ Now I understand its meaning. If that cliff should tumble, the city would fall, too.”

Amazed at the sight of the stupendous citadel, Biff did not tell his Uncle Charlie and Barma Shah about his near-plunge from the icefall. Instead, he reminded them of his mission:

“The sooner we get over there, the quicker we will find my father.”

Both men agreed, but Barma Shah added, “You will have to see the Grand Lama first.”

That was the part that worried Biff most, though he didn’t say so. Now that he was practically at his goal, he felt shakier than ever, for the Chonsi Lama now represented power on a vast scale, considering the size of his secret stronghold.

The party continued down the granite trail, which zigzagged to the bottom of the canyon and there crossed a deep but narrow stream on a bridge of simple logs. At the other side, they came to a great wall, where gates were being swung wide to receive them. They were ushered in by lesser lamas and other dignitaries, all wearing robes and costumes of an ancient day.

With Hurdu and the porters following, they were conducted up outer steps, then deep beneath a portico and up more steps until they reached a magnificently tiled inner courtyard, where they were bowed to rows of benches. An elderly lama approached and gestured to Biff, as he said, “You may come.”

Next, he addressed Charles Keene and Barma Shah. “You two may follow.” Then, to the boys, “And you next.” Pausing, he looked toward the porters and asked, “Any of these?”

Barma Shah decided to bring Hurdu and three others. So, in the order as arranged, they entered another portico and climbed a short flight of gilded steps into a reception room also decorated in gold. There, Biff was told that he was to enter the throne-room of the Grand Lama alone, while Charles Keene and Barma Shah were to be ready when summoned.

Golden doors were opening when Uncle Charlie whispered to Biff, “Remember, you’re meeting one of the wisest men in the East, as I can now believe. Pay close attention.” To that, Biff nodded. Then, as trumpets blared, he was ushered through the doors, clutching the ruby that he had carried all along as his final passport to the Grand Lama’s presence.

Then Biff reached a throne where a figure in great golden robes and peaked hat awaited him. On each side stood a solemn dignitary, each in similar robes. One asked in a droning tone, “You have brought the Light of the Lama?” Then as Biff solemnly replied, “Yes,” the other dignitary ordered, “Give it to the Great One.”

No promises, no conditions, no mention of Biff’s father. Just hand over the ruby and hope for the best. With a bow, Biff produced the magnificent red gem, which was glowing more vividly than ever. He placed it in the Chonsi Lama’s outstretched left hand. Then, hoping to ask the obvious question, he looked up at the Great One.

Biff gasped despite himself. Instead of viewing the austere visage of a man in his mid-fifties, he was looking into the smiling, friendly face of a boy no older than himself. Still weighing the ruby in his left hand, the Chonsi Lama extended his right in greeting, as he said:

“Thank you, Biff!”