Tom Swift and His Electronic Retroscope (13 page)

Max looked at him a bit suspiciously before answering. "You really want to know? Lemme see, now. Oh yeah—over on the other side of the hill, tangled up in some roots."

Tom responded, "I’d appreciate it very much if you could show me the place!"

"Okay. I’ll do that. But if you liked that one, wait’ll you see my special treasure!" Max picked up the candle and headed into the inky darkness of the cave’s interior. "Follow me!" he commanded.

Tom hesitated. Could the ex-wrestler be trusted? Or was Max planning to play some kind of trick on them after he had lured his visitors away from their only route of escape?

Tom and his companions shared the same thought. Bud flashed a questioning look as if waiting for orders, and Chow took a couple nervous steps backward. Before the young inventor could decide, Max’s parrot gave a loud screech. An instant later a familiar smarmy voice came echoing down the corridor. "Hello in there! Anybody home?"

Tom gave a
really
involuntary grin of relief as he saw Wilson Hutchcraft come gliding into the candle’s glow. For once, and it was a novel feeling, he was pleased to see the archaeologist-philologist. Max might be able to take on three visitors, but surely not four.

"Well!" said Hutchcraft smoothly. "The last people I’d expect to find wandering around in the dark. But look at these old artifacts."

Max, who had turned to see the cause of the uproar, scowled at the new arrival. He seemed none too pleased at this latest invasion of his cave. "This one of your crew, Tom?"

Tom introduced Max to Hutchcraft. They shook hands, and the archaeologist boggled as he looked up. "So this is your giant! My, my!"

"Max th’ Magnificent here was about t’ show us somethin’," Chow explained. "If he hasn’t changed his mind!"

The cave-dweller shrugged. "Doesn’t make any difference, I s’pose. Come on, all of you. Don’t got all day t’ run a tour—got things to do."

"Really?" Bud asked innocently.

If the muscular young pilot noticed the giant’s unfriendly look, be gave no sign.

"It sounds very interesting," remarked Hutchcraft. "Glad I saw the entrance."

"Okay, okay," Max grumbled. "But watch your step in there—it’s rough going. Only got th’ one candle."

As the giant turned to lead the way, Tom took out his powerful pocket flash and followed with the others. Max made no comment.

When they had gone about fifty yards into the rocky interior, the cave suddenly narrowed into a mere passageway again, slanting downwards. Here the atmosphere became dank and almost chilly. The visitors plodded after Max in single file. Then, as they rounded a corner in the tunnel, it widened out again into another cavern.

A second later Chow gave voice to the gasp of astonishment that all the visitors were feeling. The yellow light from Max’s candle and Tom’s flash-beam had suddenly lit up a section of the cave wall, revealing a huge carved figure!

"G-Great jumpin’ mud frogs!" Chow gulped in a trembling voice. "Who’s
that?"

The figure was so lifelike and terrifying that it almost seemed to leap out of the wall at them. Chiseled out of limestone, the statue still showed traces of the gaudy colors with which it had once been painted.

The strange, sinuous figure had an s-curve like a striking cobra, with its tapering tail in a curlicue. Along its spine was a peculiar ridge of clustered feathers, some drooping, some erect. It’s fierce face was turned in profile, so that one huge eye glared out at the intruders above a fanged snake-mouth that yawned wide. The carving was about fifteen feet high from top to bottom, dwarfing even Max.

"Tom," Bud breathed. "Those animal specimens your alien friends sent us in the Space Ark—!"

Tom finished the thought. "I know, Bud. Some of them had both reptilian and bird-like characteristics."

"Bah, what nonsense!" exclaimed Hutchcraft scornfully. "This is quite
obviously
the Mayan serpent god Kukulcan—Quetzalcoatl to other tribes. Note the ceremonial headdress." He pointed to a rounded figure with protruding "spikes" that partially enclosed the snake’s head.

"I been seein’ Indian head-feathers all my life," Chow declared, "and this one looks mighty funny to me. Me, I’d say it’s one o’ them dang space helmets!"

Hutchcraft began a retort, but Tom interrupted. "Whatever the carving is supposed to represent, I know enough about Mayan art styles to say that it’s not much older than the European colonization. If this is supposed to be one of the extraterrestrials, it must be at least a thousand years too late to be ‘taken from life’."

"Sure," said Bud. "But maybe the whole idea of this ‘Kukulcan’ guy came from old accounts of the space expeditioners."

As the excited debate continued, Max brought his candle closer and stared at the carving with the jealous, greedy look of a miser. "This is why I stay here," he said in a strange, tense voice. "I discovered him and all the rest of the things. They’re mine. Nobody can take them away from me!"

Torn exchanged a warning glance with Bud and Chow. Bud winked back and nodded slightly, indicating that he and Chow would keep an eye on the jungle strong man in case he grew belligerent.

Reassured, Tom took the opportunity to study the wall relief more closely. "Even if we don’t have the exact year, these carvings date from sometime after the Old and New Mayan Empires," he told the others. "Some of the ornamentation has a Méxica look, which probably means the carvings were made after the Toltec invasion from the north."

Commented Hutchcraft, "In
that,
I agree."

Meanwhile, Max had begun to claw away some loose stone slabs and packed-together branches from the wall of the cave, to the left of the carved figure. "You ain’t seen nothing yet, folks!" he muttered.

The others watched with interest. Presently Max’s digging exposed a gaping hole in the wall. Inside lay a heaping store of Mayan artifacts—bowls, jewelry, statuettes, and amulets.

Chow’s jaw dropped as the flickering rays of Max’s candle lit up the priceless objects. "Brand my buffalo chops, it’s a reg’lar treasure room!" he declared.

Tom probed the darkened hollow with the beam of his flashlight. "You’re right, Chow," he said. "That’s
just
what this is—a treasure chamber. It’s been hewn out of solid rock!"

Max watched with a wary eye as Tom made a hasty survey of the hoard. None of the objects bore any mathematical space symbols. But one small carved figure of a turtle showed the date of A.D. 821 in Mayan numerals.

"This place may be older than I thought," Tom announced. "Of course many of these objects could have been made before the period of the wall carving and brought here."

"It’s amazing—absolutely amazing," Hutch declared, almost speechless for a change. "I’ve never seen anything like it in my life."

"I found this nook by accident," said Magnificent Max. "Most of this stuff was already inside, laid out all neat and reg’lar. But I found some more things just like ’em on the other side of the hill, like I told ya. I put all my valuables in here, like it was a hotel safe."

When Tom had finished his examination, Max carefully heaped up the dirt again so as to cover his secret trove. Then the group started back through the narrow passageway leading to the outer room of the cave. "Man oh man alive, that there snake feller on th’ wall is enough to scare a law-abidin’ hombre out of a year’s growth!" Chow muttered in awe.

Chow was interrupted by a sudden, startling screech from the parrot. Max looked up, instantly alert, as his colorful pet came fluttering down the passageway from the outside. "Now what put
him
into such a tizzy?" remarked Hutchcraft.

As the bird continued to squawk and flit about, his master said, "I don’t let him in here normal, and he knows that. Something’s goin’ on! I’ll bet an iguana there’s some lousy snooper out there!" The giant growled angrily at the thought. He made a dash toward the cave entrance.

Tom followed at his heels, with the others close behind. They emerged from the cave just in time to glimpse a black-clad slender figure scrambling away among the ferns and foliage.

"That’s him!" Max shouted. "That’s the skinny guy I was telling you about!"

"Come on!
After him!"
Tom cried, starting off in pursuit.

"WE’D BETTER spread out!" Tom said in a hoarse whisper, as he and Bud plunged in among the trees after the mysterious intruder. "He may try to zigzag and throw us off!"

"Right! But watch out for an ambush, skipper!" Bud called back. Tom knew Bud was also thinking:
jaguars, too!

The thick jungle growth made the search maddeningly difficult. Without machetes to cut their way through the tangled foliage, it was impossible to progress rapidly. Half a dozen times, Tom and Bud tripped over creepers or gnarled tree roots and nearly went sprawling.

The steamy gloom and stinging insects added to their misery. Both pursuers were soon dripping with perspiration.

"This is hopeless!" Tom realized, after beating the bush for twenty minutes. "Hey, Bud! Where are you?" he called, cupping his hands. The pilot finally rejoined him, and the two made their way back to the cave, where the others, minus Max the giant, were waiting somewhat anxiously.

"Find anybody?" Chow asked.

"Not a trace, aside from that first quick glimpse," Tom replied, and added softly, "But at least we know now that Max’s story was true—definitely."

From his fleeting glimpse of the mysterious man, Tom felt sure he was somehow in league with the men who had attacked the camp of the construction crew. He also had been wearing some sort of black garment, with a sort of black stocking-cap pulled down completely over his face like a ski-mask.

"Who do you suppose the guy was?" Bud queried. "Some rival tomb-hound?"

"My profession
does
have a name, you know," sniffed Wilson Hutchcraft.

Tom replied to Bud with a shrug. "It’s a good enough guess—for a guess. But if he
is
an archaeologist or explorer, he’s behaving oddly, stalking us like that and running away."

"Some low-down jungle bushwhacker, that’s who he is!" Chow declared firmly. "If I ever catch him snoopin’ around, I’ll rope an’ hog-tie his skinny-bones hide!"

Tom reminded his companions that the jungle phantom was probably the same person who had twice fouled the paraplane, and might be connected to those who had terrorized the workmen. "He may be our bow-and-arrow boy, and if he can take down a jaguar, he could take down one of us just as easily."

Hutchcraft suddenly made a peculiar choking sound, looking upward into the nearby trees with eyes wide. "Hutch, what is—" began Tom. Then, following the line of the archaeologist’s gaze, he cut himself off and stared in amazement.

From the thick treelimb where Max’s parrot usually perched, a long, thick arrow protruded!

"A
t’cunda!"
gulped Hutchcraft.

Tom said slowly, "I think I see what must’ve happened. The guy was trying to sneak up on the cave without being detected. When the parrot started squawking an alarm, he let loose with an arrow to kill it—and just missed. That’s why the bird flew into the cave."

"But looka that, boss!" marveled Chow. "That there arrow went all the way
through
that big thick branch. She didn’t stop till she hit the trunk!"

Wilson Hutchcraft broadcast a superior—if nervous—look all around. "As I
believe
I’ve pointed out before, the sacred arrow is an extremely deadly weapon, even without a diamond tip."

"The old Maya version of a penetrator bullet!" added Bud with a gulp.

When Max finally returned from his futile pursuit, Tom asked Max if he would bring the carved bowl to the village, perhaps the following morning. "I’d like to photograph it with my special camera to see how old it is. Maybe we can make those markings more visible, too. You could have it right back."

"Oh, you just take it along," the giant said. "It’s like I told you, those little men scare me, just like kids do, the spidery little squawkers! That’s why I try t’ keep up my cave-man rep—makes ’em stay clear of me."

The huge ex-wrestler’s frank admission seemed so incongruous that it was all Tom and his friends could do to refrain from laughing at him. Apparently Magnificent Max’s boastfulness was even more of a cover-up than they had suspected!

The young inventor smiled and said politely, "Thanks a lot, Max. I’ll see that the bowl is returned to you safely by the end of the day tomorrow."

The three Shoptonians waved goodbye and began to trudge back to the trail to the village. Wilson Hutchcraft managed a cool nod toward Max, then hastened after them.

The young inventor carried the carved bowl in both hands, respecting the tremendous value of the ancient object. But his intent concentration on the relic proved his undoing as the toe of his jungle boot suddenly struck an unseen obstacle. The jolt threw Tom into a wild stumble and the precious bowl flew from his grip!
"Oh!"
he exclaimed, making a desperate lunge but barely touching the bowl’s rim. Bud’s football skills proved equal to the task, luckily. With a dive he grabbed the bowl in mid-air only a moment before it would have crashed to the ground!

"Nice catch, pal!" gasped Tom, his face white.

At the village, supper completed, Tom decided to place the bowl under the gaze of his electronic retroscope. The chief and several other natives watched with great curiosity as Tom trained the camera on the Mayan relic in the light of sunset and the cookfires. An air of tense excitement filled the air. What sort of carvings would be revealed on the bowl?

"This is the first test on something of real age. Keep your fingers crossed, everybody," Tom muttered. He reset the computer so as to cancel out the distorting background radiation, then switched on the scanners and detectors and made a number of precise dial adjustments. The equipment hummed faintly as the detectors began feeding a steady flow of electrical impulses to the camera’s "brain."

"Hey, it’s working like a charm!" Bud cried out. "And those
are
space symbols showing up!" A clear set was appearing on the screen of the reproducer unit, accompanied by the usual elaborate Mayan art designs.