“Remember where it was?” Jim asked.
“Perhaps we can move it,” Bob added. Carlos led the way he had taken as a youngster but although they pressed hard all the way, every section remained firm and unmoved as the mountains themselves.
“Everybody has told me that it was my terrified fancy and I suppose it was, but I’m not gifted with a very lively imagination,” Carlos said.
“When it was open what did it look like?” Bob inquired.
“It only opened a little way and all I could see was a flat place beyond with some flowers. I raced off to get the other boys, then couldn’t find it. Come along further and see the different parts.” He led the way and soon they were walking through a series of unfinished sections, some roofed and others open to the sky. The stone of the mountain formed the natural flooring, but here and there were huge inlaid pieces which still bore strange markings. On some of the stones were designs so weather-beaten that they could not be made out, and quite a number of them were highly colored. Suddenly they heard a soft sound behind them, and whirling quickly they were confronted by a very tall woman whose dark face was as wrinkled as a black walnut, and whose hands rested on the gnarled head of a heavy stick. She stood perfectly quiet, her eyes traveling from the top of Carlos’ head to the tips of his toes, then she turned her gaze on the two Texans. Bob felt the hair on his back chill as if he were leaning against a block of ice, but Jim had no fear under the close scrutiny.
“Put forward your hands, all of you,” she ordered, and they obeyed. The two emerald rings on the fingers of the Flying Buddies gleamed in the sunlight. She glanced from one to the other, then into their faces. “Go in peace,” she said, then turned about and disappeared behind a partition. Carlos whistled softly.
“Guess we’d better not stay around,” he remarked firmly. Jim and Bob exchanged glances.
“I do not believe that she will mind our looking at the place if we are careful not to disturb anything,” Bob suggested because by that time he was sure there was nothing to be afraid of and he very much wanted to inspect the marvelous monument that stood so sturdily as a reminder of its clever builders.
“We’ll be mighty careful,” Jim added, but as they walked forth, Carlos was no longer leading. He was perfectly contented to follow, and although he glanced hither and yon, they did not see the ancient guardian again. It took some little time to tour the whole place and finally they came to the end where they stopped to catch their breaths.
“Whew, it’s like something one reads about,” Bob declared softly. “This high ledge dropping straight down to goodness knows where, and this wild S-plateau studded with spires of the Andes. No wonder the original owners have been allowed to remain in possession. A white man couldn’t do a blame thing with the place.”