Chapter XXIV: We Witness a Daring Deed

Having armed ourselves with the electrites, each putting on a fresh belt, we concealed the precious gas-jacket beneath a divan. True, there was but one for nine of us, but it meant that one person in the party, at least, would be able to leave the valley at will, and that counted for a good deal with those in our present uncomfortable position. Paul even thought the inflated jacket might be made to float two, at a pinch. At present there was no suggestion of any one’s taking advantage of the find to run away from his comrades; but it was a satisfaction to us all to know we had recovered the jacket. Plenty of themlyne crystals were in the chest left to us, and the little case attached to the jacket was filled with them, in readiness for any emergency.

None of us slept much during the rest of that eventful night, unless it was Pedro, who was so exhausted he needed to regain his former strength. Next morning we foraged for breakfast, not permitting any of the priests to enter the room lest they spy their leader as our prisoner. They were a very subdued crowd, by this time, and gave us no trouble.

But the question was how to visit Ama in a bunch, as she had requested, and still leave old Katalat a safe prisoner in our room. Finally we solved the problem by deciding to take him with us.

“Now that we are armed,” said Paul, “even the Waba Pagatka will hesitate to interfere with us. But the valley is so utterly demoralized just now that I scarcely think we shall be attacked.”

The sky still retained its sombre hue, and Nux, who was born in a land subject to earthquakes, shook his head and predicted more trouble for the Vale of Tcha.

“When one quake come,” he said, “three quakes come. Each is more badder than de odder.”

We had had two already, and anything worse than last night’s performance was surely to be dreaded. But we were not borrowing trouble just then.

We found great confusion in the quarters of the priestesses. Their palace had not suffered so much damage as that of the priests, but huge stones from the mountain side littered the ground everywhere. The beauty of this retreat was evidently spoiled for some time to come.

We had met with no interference on the way, although the priests gathered to watch us march their leader away as our prisoner. Ama, however, was startled to see Katalat in bonds and at once ordered us to release him. We did so reluctantly, and when she demanded an explanation Paul said we considered the new High Priest dangerous to us all. Katalat smiled grimly at hearing this, but said nothing.

“He is a Tcha,” remarked Ama, proudly, “and a faithful servant of our great and glorious god, the Sun. In his youth he was our record-keeper and librarian, being skilled in literature and the arts. Such a one can be dangerous only to the enemies of the Tcha.”

But she was too distressed over the condition of the valley and her dead and suffering subjects to dwell upon this incident long, and eagerly she begged us to advise her what to do to restore a semblance of order and comfort as quickly as possible. Being travelers of wide experience, she added, we ought to know how to handle such a condition better than the Tcha, who were seemingly stunned by their misfortune—the first of its kind that had overtaken them since they had occupied the valley thousands of years ago.

We counseled her as well as we could, and it seemed a good omen that just then the sun appeared in the sky and sent his warming rays to flood the stricken valley. Of me the girl seemed much afraid, saying I had predicted the calamity that had overtaken them, and in addition to being a seer she imagined I might be a wizard, as well, and by diabolical arts had wrought all this desolation. It amused me to be accorded such powers, but I am sorry to feel that pretty Ama was afraid of me.

Paul suggested that she call a meeting of the principal inhabitants at the great theatre, or assembly hall, and there give them instructions what to do, as well as an encouraging speech. She caught at this plan eagerly and dispatched her messengers at once. Meantime Chaka and Allerton gave the girl much good advice, and Archie and Joe aided them quite effectually. She would not listen to me at all, so I kept silent.

All this time the new High Priest stood dumbly listening to the conservation. He took no part in the conference himself, even when the Supreme Ruler appealed to him, and I thought his conduct that of a cad and a cur. After Ama he held the highest rank in the Vale, and it certainly was his duty to assist her in her present trouble. But no; he kept his mouth shut and his wild roving eyes fixed intently on our faces.

Presently the messengers returned to say that the people were assembling at the theatre, and Ama immediately prepared to join them. She must deck herself in her imperial robes, it seemed; so we were requested to meet her just at the edge of the city and accompany her to the meeting. She noticed our electrites but did not ask in what manner we had recovered them. Also she noted Pedro’s presence, and that the supposed sacrifice was still alive and well; but not a word concerning him passed her lips. She was intent on more important matters.

While we waited in the grounds Chaka made a trip to our room and put on the gas-jacket, covering it with his flowing tunic. This he did at Allerton’s request. The High Priest, being now free, had rejoined his satellites and we saw them all whispering together before they marched away in a body to the meeting. Doubtless old Katalat meant to cause trouble, if he could.

We followed them slowly, halting just without the circle of buildings to wait for Ama. I thought she would come in the golden electric chariot she used on state occasions, but because of the rocks and debris that cluttered the way she was obliged to walk.

The High Priestess and her escort made an impressive appearance, nevertheless. First came six young girls swinging censers; then Ama alone. Following her were the Virgins of the Sun in their snow-white gowns.

At her signal we went ahead and were approaching near to the theatre when the final calamity overtook this devoted land.

The clear sky had nothing to do with the third earthquake. It came unheralded, without an instant’s warning. A sound as of a heavy sea dashing against breakers was followed by so mighty a crash that every living creature in the Vale of Tcha reeled and fell headlong.

It was all over, then. A mere instant had wrecked the beautiful city and buried hundreds in its ruins. More than that, as we rose dazed and trembling to our feet we saw that the south end of the huge mountain had split in twain, and through the rift we could look far out upon the plains toward the Great Lake and the City of Itza.

But now another horror confronted us. The ground of the valley had likewise split into big cracks, one of them almost at our feet. The censer girls had disappeared; the Virgins had likewise been swallowed up or had rushed back to firmer land. But there, upon a tiny island formed by two irregular chasms, stood Ama, erect and motionless, while the bit of ground that supported her slight and beautiful form swayed visibly to and fro, as if hesitating which way to plunge its fair burden into the black gulf below.

I saw a flash and felt a rush of air past me as Chaka made a great leap and alighted at the girl’s feet. For a moment I thought they were both about to be engulfed, but he steadied her with one hand as he knelt beside her, while with the other he fumbled with the valve of the themlyne case. He had cast aside his tunic before he made that wonderful leap, and as we stood spellbound, watching him with throbbing hearts, we could see the gas-jacket slowly swell as the powerful gas was generated and rushed into it.

It seemed a desperate chance to take; there was scarcely any foundation to support the swaying bit of ground, which was crumbling away before our very eyes. A few seconds now would end it all, and we stared helplessly, with a sickening dread of the impending tragedy.

Chaka straightened up, gained his feet and passed an arm around Ama’s waist. She appeared not to notice him; her face was white and set, her eyes turned steadily ahead to the spot where Paul stood with clasped hands, praying as he had never before prayed in all his life.

Chaka and Ama swayed with the little island, which toppled and fell with a roar into the abyss. Slowly—slowly but surely—they two sank after it, the girl clasped tightly in the atkayma’s arms, and disappeared from our view.

Archie and I caught Allerton as he sank unconscious and inert to the ground. Joe had run away, for some reason. I was scarcely able to stand, myself, and the cry of horror from the throng of people who, rushing from the theatre, had witnessed this scene, conspired to unman me still further.

But a sudden revulsion of feeling came, for above the huge crack appeared Chaka’s head—rising, gradually rising, an inch at a time—until he was again in full view, the girl still clasped in his arms. She had fainted, and lay with her golden red hair streaming over the atkayma’s shoulder.

We shouted for joy, then, and all the Tcha behind us echoed the shout, for once startled out of their inbred apathy.

Straight up, to some twenty feet above the chasm’s edge floated Chaka, and then remained stationary. The gas-jacket was inflated to its fullest extent, but was not light enough to carry the double burden higher. No air stirred; here was no way to succor the pair, it seemed, or bring them to firm ground.

We had reckoned without Joe, however. I never knew where the boy found that rope, or how he came to think of running search of it. But now the line shot into the air, in true sailor- or cowboy-fashion, and Chaka managed to grab it with one hand while he clung to Ama with the other. Then Joe slowly and steadily drew them away from their dangerous position to where we stood with outstretched arms eager to receive them.

The assistance came none too soon, for the gas was escaping through a defect in the valve and without the aid of the rope Chaka would soon have made a second and final descent into the gulf. As it was, he was barely above the edge when we drew him in.

The Maya was as calm and cool as if no danger had threatened him. Some Tcha women brought water and took charge of Paul and the High Priestess, trying to restore them to consciousness. While they worked, without warning the crack came together with a sound like a thunder-clap, the impact throwing us all upon our faces again. Only an uneven ridge of crumpled earth marked the line where the great jagged opening had extended half way across the valley.

Chaka, standing beside me, gave an involuntary shudder.

“There was fire below us,” he said in an awed tone, “and that was what caused Ama to faint. Under this mountain is a great volcano. It has been burning for countless ages, biding its time, and the people knew it not until the crouching monster rose to-day in its might and vanquished them.”

“See!” I exclaimed. “The cleft in the mountain side is still open. Beyond is your own country, Chaka.”

“Yes,” he replied, with an accent of sadness; “the hidden city is hidden no longer.”