I said this mountain would be my grave, do you remember? You see,
I knew."
I started to reply, but was interrupted by Harry, calling to ask
where we were. I answered, and soon he had joined us and seated
himself beside Desiree on the ground.
"I found nothing," was all he said, wearily, and he lay back and
closed his eyes, resting his head on his hands.
The minutes passed slowly. Desiree and I talked in low tones;
Harry moved about uneasily on his hard bed, saying nothing.
Finally, despite Desiree's energetic protests, I rose to my knees
and insisted that she rest herself. We seemed none of us to be
scarcely aware of what we were doing; our movements had a curious
purposelessness about them that gave the thing an appearance of
unreality--I know not what; it comes to my memory as some
indistinct and haunting nightmare.
Suddenly, as I sat gazing dully into the semidarkness of the
cavern, I saw that which drove the apathy from my brain with a
sudden shock, at the same time paralyzing my senses. I strained
my eyes ahead; there could be no doubt of it; that black, slowly
moving line was a band of Incas creeping toward us silently, on
their knees, through the darkness.
Pages:
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400