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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"

In
this hole presently appeared the head and shoulders of our guide,
who beckoned to us to follow and then disappeared below.
I started to obey, but turned to wait for Harry, who was gazing
at Desiree. His back was toward me and I could not see his face;
his eyes must have held an appeal, for I saw Desiree's lips part
in a smile and heard her call:
"You will see me!"
Then he joined me, and we began the descent together.
I found myself wondering how these half-civilized brutes had
possibly managed to conceive the idea of the spiral stair. It was
known to neither the Aztecs nor the Incas, in America; nor to any
of the primitive European or Asiatic civilizations. But they had
found a place where nothing else would do--and they made it.
Another of the innumerable offspring of Mother Necessity.
I took time to note its construction. It was rude enough, but a
good job for all that. It was not exactly circular; there were
many angles, evidently following the softer strata in the rock;
they had bowed to their material--the way of the artist.
Even the height of the steps was irregular; some were scarcely
more than three inches, while others were twelve or fourteen.


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