the last of the plainsmen- 第17部分

The　floor　of　the　cave　ascended　from　the　very　threshold。　Stony　ridges　circled　from　wall　to　wall。　We　climbed　till　we　were　two　hundred　feet　from　the　opening；　yet　we　were　not　half…way　to　the　dome。

Our　horses；　browsing　in　the　sage　far　below；　looked　like　ants。　So　steep　did　the　ascent　become　that　we　desisted；　for　if　one　of　us　had　slipped　on　the　smooth　incline；　the　result　would　have　been　terrible。　Our　voices　rang　clear　and　hollow　from　the　walls。　We　were　so　high　that　the　sky　was　blotted　out　by　the　overhanging　square；　cornice…like　top　of　the　door；　and　the　light　was　weird；　dim；　shadowy；　opaque。　It　was　a　gray　tomb。

〃Waa…hoo！〃　yelled　Jones　with　all　the　power　of　his　wide；　leather　lungs。

Thousands　of　devilish　voices　rushed　at　us；　seemingly　on　puffs　of　wind。　Mocking；　deep　echoes　bellowed　from　the　ebon　shades　at　the　back　of　the　cave；　and　the　walls；　taking　them　up；　hurled　them　on　again　in　fiendish　concatenation。

We　did　not　again　break　the　silence　of　that　tomb；　where　the　spirits　of　ages　lay　in　dusty　shrouds；　and　we　crawled　down　as　if　we　had　invaded　a　sanctuary　and　invoked　the　wrath　of　the　gods。

We　all　proposed　names：　Montezuma's　Amphitheater　being　the　only　rival　of　Jones's　selection；　Echo　cave；　which　we　finally　chose。

Mounting　our　horses　again；　we　made　twenty　miles　of　Snake　Gulch　by　noon；　when　we　rested　for　lunch。　All　the　way　up　we　had　played　the　boy's　game　of　spying　for　sights；　with　the　honors　about　even。　It　was　a　question　if　Snake　Gulch　ever　before　had　such　a　raking　over。　Despite　its　name；　however；　we　discovered　no　snakes。

From　the　sandy　niche　of　a　cliff　where　we　lunched　Wallace　espied　a　tomb；　and　heralded　his　discovery　with　a　victorious　whoop。　Digging　in　old　ruins　roused　in　him　much　the　same　spirit　that　digging　in　old　books　roused　in　me。　Before　we　reached　him；　he　had　a　big　bowie…knife　buried　deep　in　the　red；　sandy　floor　of　the　tomb。

This　one…time　sealed　house　of　the　dead　had　been　constructed　of　small　stones；　held　together　by　a　cement；　the　nature　of　which；　Wallace　explained；　had　never　become　clear　to　civilization。　It　was　red　in　color　and　hard　as　flint；　harder　than　the　rocks　it　glued　together。　The　tomb　was　half…round　in　shape；　and　its　floor　was　a　projecting　shelf　of　cliff　rock。　Wallace　unearthed　bits　of　pottery；　bone　and　finely　braided　rope；　all　of　which；　to　our　great　disappointment；　crumbled　to　dust　in　our　fingers。　In　the　case　of　the　rope；　Wallace　assured　us；　this　was　a　sign　of　remarkable　antiquity。

In　the　next　mile　we　traversed；　we　found　dozens　of　these　old　cells；　all　demolished　except　a　few　feet　of　the　walls；　all　despoiled　of　their　one…time　possessions。　Wallace　thought　these　depredations　were　due　to　Indians　of　our　own　time。　Suddenly　we　came　upon　Jones；　standing　under　a　cliff；　with　his　neck　craned　to　a　desperate　angle。

〃Now；　what's　that？〃　demanded　he；　pointing　upward。

High　on　the　cliff　wall　appeared　a　small；　round　protuberance。　It　was　of　the　unmistakably　red　color　of　the　other　tombs；　and　Wallace；　more　excited　than　he　had　been　in　the　cougar　chase；　said　it　was　a　sepulcher；　and　he　believed　it　had　never　been　opened。

From　an　elevated　point　of　rock；　as　high　up　as　I　could　well　climb；　I　decided　both　questions　with　my　glass。　The　tomb　resembled　nothing　so　much　as　a　mud…wasp's　nest；　high　on　a　barn　wall。　The　fact　that　it　had　never　been　broken　open　quite　carried　Wallace　away　with　enthusiasm。

〃This　is　no　mean　discovery；　let　me　tell　you　that；〃　he　declared。　〃I　am　familiar　with　the　Aztec；　Toltec　and　Pueblo　ruins；　and　here　I　find　no　similarity。　Besides；　we　are　out　of　their　latitude。　An　ancient　race　of　peoplevery　ancient　indeed　lived　in　this　canyon。　How　long　ago；　it　is　impossible　to　tell。〃

〃They　must　have　been　birds；〃　said　the　practical　Jones。　〃Now；　how'd　that　tomb　ever　get　there？　Look　at　it；　will　you？〃

As　near　as　we　could　ascertain；　it　was　three　hundred　feet　from　the　ground　below；　five　hundred　from　the　rim　wall　above；　and　could　not　possibly　have　been　approached　from　the　top。　Moreover；　the　cliff　wall　was　as　smooth　as　a　wall　of　human　make。

〃There's　another　one；〃　called　out　Jones。

〃Yes；　and　I　see　another；　no　doubt　there　are　many　of　them；〃　replied　Wallace。　〃In　my　mind；　only　one　thing　possible　accounts　for　their　position。　You　observe　they　appear　to　be　about　level　with　each　other。　Well；　once　the　Canyon　floor　ran　along　that　line；　and　in　the　ages　gone　by　it　has　lowered；　washed　away　by　the　rains。〃

This　conception　staggered　us；　but　it　was　the　only　one　conceivable。　No　doubt　we　all　thought　at　the　same　time　of　the　little　rainfall　in　that　arid　section　of　Arizona。

〃How　many　years？〃　queried　Jones。

〃Years！　What　are　years？〃　said　Wallace。　〃Thousands　of　years；　ages　have　passed　since　the　race　who　built　these　tombs　lived。〃

Some　persuasion　was　necessary　to　drag　our　scientific　friend　from　the　spot；　where　obviously　helpless　to　do　anything　else；　he　stood　and　gazed　longingly　at　the　isolated　tombs。　The　canyon　widened　as　we　proceeded；　and　hundreds　of　points　that　invited　inspection；　such　as　overhanging　shelves　of　rock；　dark　fissures；　caverns　and　ruins　had　to　be　passed　by；　for　lack　of　time。

Still；　a　more　interesting　and　important　discovery　was　to　come；　and　the　pleasure　and　honor　of　it　fell　to　me。　My　eyes　were　sharp　and　peculiarly　farsightedthe　Indian　sight；　Jones　assured　me；　and　I　kept　them　searching　the　walls　in　such　places　as　my　companions　overlooked。　Presently；　under　a　large；　bulging　bluff；　I　saw　a　dark　spot；　which　took　the　shape　of　a　figure。　This　figure；　I　recollected；　had　been　presented　to　my　sight　more　than　once；　and　now　it　stopped　me。　The　hard　climb　up　the　slippery　stones　was　fatiguing；　but　I　did　not　hesitate；　for　I　was　determined　to　know。　Once　upon　the　ledge；　I　let　out　a　yell　that　quickly　set　my　companions　in　my　direction。　The　figure　I　had　seen　was　a　dark；　red　devil；　a　painted　image；　rude；　unspeakably　wild；　crudely　executed；　but　painted　by　the　hand　of　man。　The　whole　surface　of　the　cliff　wall　bore　figures　of　all　shapesmen；　mammals；　birds　and　strange　devices；　some　in　red　paint；　mostly　in　yellow。　Some　showed　the　wear　of　time；　others　were　clear　and　sharp。

Wallace　puffed　up　to　me；　but　he　had　wind　enough　left　for　another　whoop。　Jones　puffed　up　also；　and　seeing　the　first　thing　a　rude　sketch　of　what　might　have　been　a　deer　or　a　buffalo；　he　commented　thus：　〃Darn　me　if　I　ever　saw　an　animal　like　that？　Boys；　this　is　a　find；　sure　as　you're　born。　Because　not　even　the　Piutes　ever　spoke　of　these　figures。　I　doubt　if　they　know　they're　here。　And　the　cowboys　and　wranglers；　what　few　ever　get　by　here　in　a　hundred　years；　never　saw　these　things。　Beats　anything　I　ever　saw　on　the　Mackenzie；　or　anywhere　else。〃

The　meaning　of　some　devices　was　as　mystical　as　that　of　others　was　clear。　Two　blood…red　figures　of　men；　the　larger　dragging　the　smaller　by　the　hair；　while　he　waved　aloft　a　blood…red　hatchet　or　club；　left　little　to　conjecture。　Here　was　the　old　battle　of　men；　as　old　as　life。　Another　group；　two　figures　of　which　resembled　the　foregoing　in　form　and　action；　battling　over　a　prostrate　form　rudely　feminine　in　outline；　attested　to　an　age　when　men　were　as　susceptible　as　they　are　in　modern　times；　but　more　forceful　and　original。　An　odd　yellow　Indian　waved　aloft　a　red　hand；　which　striking　picture　suggested　the　idea　that　he　was　an　ancient　Macbeth；　listening　to　the　knocking　at　the　gate。　There　was　a　character　representing　a　great　chief；　before　whom　many　figures　lay　prostrate；　evidently　slain　or　subjugated。　Large　red　paintings；　in　the　shape　of　bats；　occupied　prominent　positions；　and　must　have　represented　gods　or　devils。　Armies　of　marching　men　told　of　that　blight　of　nations　old　or　youngwar。　These；　and　birds　unnamable；　and　beasts　unclassable；　with　dots　and　marks　and　hieroglyphics；　recorded　the　history　of　a　bygone　people。　Symbols　they　were　of　an　era　that　had　gone　into　the　dim　past；　leaving　only　these　marks；　｛Symbols　recording　the　history　of　a　bygone　people。｝　forever　unintelligible；　yet　while　they　stood；　century　after　century；　ineffaceable；　reminders　of　the　glory；　the　mystery；　the　sadness　of　life。

〃How　could　paint　of　any　kind　last　so　long？　asked　Jones；　shaking　his　head　doubtfully。

〃That　is　the　unsolvable　mystery；〃　returned　Wallace。　〃But　the　records　are　there。　I　am　absolutely　sure　the　paintings　are　at　least　a　thousand　years　old。　I　have　never　seen　any　tombs　or　paintings　similar　to　them。　Snake　Gulch　is　a　find；　and　I　shall　some　day　study　its　wonders。〃

Sundown　caught　us　within　sight　of　Oak　Spring；　and　we　soon　trotted　into　camp　to　the　welcoming　chorus　of　the　hounds。　Frank　and　the　others　had　reached　the　cabin　some　hours　before。　Supper　was　steaming　on　the　hot　coals　with　a　delicious　fragrance。

Then　came　the　pleasantest　time　of　the　day；　after　a　long　chase　or　jauntthe　silent　moments；　watching　the　glowing　embers　of　the　fire；　the　speaking　moments　when　a　red…blooded　story　rang　clear　and　true；　the　twilight　moments；　when　the　wood…smoke　smelled　sweet。

Jones　seemed　unusually　thoughtful。　I　had　learned　that　this　preoccupation　in　him　meant　the　stirring　of　old　associations；　and　I　waited　silently。　By　and　by　Lawson　snored　mildly　in　a　corner；　Jim　and　Frank　crawled　into　their　blankets；　and　all　was　still。　Walllace　smoked　his　Indian　pipe　and　hunted　in　firelit　dreams。

〃Boys；〃　said　our　leader　finally；　〃somehow　the　echoes　dying　away　in　that　cave　reminded　me　of　the　mourn　of　the　big　white　wolves　in　the　Barren　Lands。

Wallace　puffed　huge　clouds　of　white　smoke；　and　I　waited；　knowing　that　I　was　to　hear　at　last　the　story　of　the　Colonel's　great　adventure　in　the　Northland。



CHAPTER　8。　NAZA！　NAZA！　NAZA！

It　was　a　waiting　day　at　Fort　Chippewayan。　The　lonesome；　far…northern　Hudson's　Bay　Trading　Post　seldom　saw　such　life。　Tepees　dotted　the　banks　of　the　Slave　River　and　lines　of　blanketed　Indians　paraded　its　shores。　Near　the　boat　landing　a　group　of　chiefs；　grotesque　in　semi…barbaric；　semicivilized　splendor；　but　black…browed；　austere…eyed；　stood　in　savage　dignity　with　folded　arms　and　high…held　heads。　Lounging　on　the　grassy　bank　were　white　men；　traders；　trappers　and　officials　of　the　post。

All　eyes　were　on　the　distant　curve　of　the　river　where；　as　it　lost　itself　in　a　fine…fringed　bend　of　dark　green；　white…glinting　waves　danced　and　fluttered。　A　June　sky　lay　blue　in　the　majestic　stream；　ragged；　spear…topped；　dense　green　trees　massed　down　to　the　water；　beyond　rose　bold；　bald…knobbed　hills；