There had been no sign of the Indians, whose dried fish were utilised a good deal by Dan for the men’s breakfast, and in good time a fresh start was made, this time with the captain one of the party, the intention being to try and mount to the highest terrace and see if there was any entrance to the central portion of the rock city from there.
Taught by the previous day’s experience, the party—led by Brace and Lynton, who both displayed in their eagerness plenty of activity—climbed pretty quickly from terrace to terrace, disturbing plenty of birds, for the most part a kind of pigeon, which nested freely in the cell-like openings. Reptiles, too, were abundant, but all ready enough to make for their holes in the rifts of the rock, the lizards glancing out of sight in a moment, the snakes slowly and resentfully, as if ready to strike at the intruders at the slightest provocation, but no one received hurt.
Upon every terrace the relics left by the old inhabitants were the same: broken earthenware and the much-worn little hand-mills used for some kind of grain, all showing that every terrace had been occupied by rows of narrow dwellings, safe havens that could easily be defended from attack by an enemy; for, if the lowest terrace had been mastered, the people had but to block up the chimney-like approach to the next terrace after fleeing thereto, and defy their foes, whose only chance of gaining the mastery was by starving out those in possession.
Sir Humphrey pointed this out to the others as they climbed higher and higher; but he was directly afterwards somewhat nonplussed by a question put by the captain—one which was unanswerable. It was simply this:
“How do you suppose the besieged people would get on for water?”
The party were nearing the top at last, having, as far as they could make out, only six more terraces to mount, when, as they paused, breathless and covered with perspiration and dust, for a few minutes’ rest, they heard a peculiar sound, which came from the direction of the end of the terrace nearest to the great central part.
“Why, it must be water falling somewhere right in the cliff,” cried Brace; and, forgetting his breathlessness, he hurried along over the crumbling stones and dust in the direction from which the sound seemed to come.
“It comes from out of here,” said Lynton, who was first to arrive at the end of the terrace, and he stopped at one of the familiar open doorways and listened.
There was no mistaking the sound now; it was the hollow echoing noise of water falling into some reservoir in the interior of the cliff; and, upon passing in, they found that, instead of this being one of the ordinary cells, it was the entrance to a wide passage, apparently leading right into the bowels of the mountain.
“Mind how you go,” cried Lynton, as Brace stepped boldly in.