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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"

Below, it emptied into a lake which nearly
filled the cavern, some hundreds of yards in diameter. Rough
boulders and narrow ledges surrounded it on every side.
This I saw in time, but the first thing that caught my eye was no
work of nature. Fastened to the wall on the opposite side of the
cavern, casting a dim, flickering light throughout its vast
space, were two golden, flaming urns.
It was not fear, but a sort of nausea, that assailed me as I
realized that I was still in the domain of the Incas.
The ledge on which I lay was exposed to view from nearly every
point of the cavern, and the sight of those urns caused me to
make a swift decision to leave it without delay. It was wet and
slippery and not over three feet in width; I rose to my feet
cautiously, having no appetite for another ducking.
At a distance of several feet lay another ledge, broad and level,
at the farther end of which rose a massive boulder. I cleared the
gap with a leap, barely made my footing, and passed behind the
boulder through a crevice just wide enough to admit my body.
Then through a narrow lane onto another ledge, and from that I
found my way into a dark recess which gave assurance at least of
temporary safety.


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