As Roy sprang forward, the Indian made a feeble leap toward the unperceiving Weston. In his withered, talon-like fingers, glinted the polished blade of the ivory knife. As it would have entered Weston’s back, Roy’s desperate lunge intercepted the blow. As the lad’s arm struck the palsied fingers of the would-be assassin, the ivory weapon flew into the air, and the Indian reeled to the far side of the room.
Weston’s revolver flashed. But again Roy saved a life. As the point of the plainsman’s weapon fell upon the Indian, the boy threw it upward. The explosion filled the hollow room. When the smoke rose to the ceiling, the wavering Indian, untouched by the bullet, faced them once more.
His fleshless arms extended high above his head; the palsied, spectral form swayed for a moment, and then, with a wail of anguish—perhaps the last expression of an extinct race—the figure stumbled across the cave and hurled itself upon the floor.
Awe-stricken, the man and the boy gazed upon the shadowy human being. When they attempted to move the mummy-like shape, they knew that the Indian was dead. On the sole surviving treasures of his people, the old man had died.
“Faithful to the end,” whispered Roy.
“The last of the Lost Indians,” added Weston solemnly.
It was ten days later when Roy finally left Bluff for Dolores. The discoveries made in the Underground City of the Lost Indians were so astounding that, before noon, the Parowan, with Roy as the sole passenger, was on a bee-line flight to Bluff. By night Roy was carrying Mr. Cook to the wonderful Sink Hole. With the manager’s assistance, the wonders of the caves were gradually brought to light. Camping at night on the dry bed of the river for two days, the men and Roy studied the puzzles of each separate chamber.
Beyond question, the dead Indian was the last of his race. What that race represented, they could only conjecture. That it came originally from the far north was certain. Strangely wrought vessels of wood inlaid with ivory could not have been made in or near this last refuge of the dead race. Representations of the walrus, of the whale, and of the polar bear ran through decorations as certain proof of a one-time tribal knowledge of the far northern seas.
But, with these carefully preserved articles, were others of a later date. In their wanderings, the tribe had evidently come south by way of the sea. For, in addition to ivory utensils and ornaments, there had been a later utilization of the beautiful Abalone shell found only near Catalina Island off the California Coast. Mosaics of this in various local woods were discovered.
“Lastly,” suggested Mr. Cook, “in these mountains of the southwest, long before this people began to degenerate, there came to it a knowledge of metals. Before the wanderers began to decline and long before the last of them were driven to this refuge, they were skilful workers in gold, silver and copper.”