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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"


Harry stooped over to assist me and set me with my back resting
against the wall. Desiree supported herself near by, scarcely
able to stand.
"We can go no farther," said Harry. "If they come--"
As he spoke I became aware of a curious movement in the wall
opposite--a movement as of the wall itself. At first I thought it
a delusion produced by my disordered brain, but when I saw
Desiree's astonished gaze following mine, and heard Harry's cry
of wonder as he turned and saw it also, I knew the thing was
real.
A great portion of the wall, the entire side of the passage for a
length of a hundred feet or more, was sliding slowly downward.
Glancing above I saw a space of several feet where the rock had
departed from its bed. The only noise audible was a low, grating
sound like the slow grinding of a gigantic millstone.
None of us moved--if there were danger we would seem to have
welcomed it. Suddenly the great mass of rock appeared to halt in
its downward movement and hang as though suspended; then with a
sudden jerk it seemed to free itself, swaying ponderously toward
us; and the next moment it had fallen straight down into some
abyss below, thundering, tumbling, sliding with terrific
velocity.


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