Yet another adventure was the outcome of this exciting survey, and Mr. Bell vividly tells the tale. "High up on the eastern face of the rock," he says, "may be noticed a dark streak betokening caves, and these we resolved to survey. But the rock scarp below them being nowhere less than 30 degrees in slope, and in places sheer, ascent without the aid of a rope was impossible. The four-inch hawser was therefore let down to the ground as before over the brow of the caves.
"Up this stout rope half a dozen of the strongest and most sure-headed coolies swarmed to the apparent mouth of the caves. The measured distance was 294 feet, climbed hand over hand the whole way up. But arriving at this height they found that they were 50 feet distant from the caves and still below their floor, with no means of getting nearer, owing to the projecting crag above, and the rope's own weight keeping it taut.
"Ultimately a brave Singhalese lad with a light rope round his waist swung himself on to the rock as high as he could, and crawled crocodile fashion the rest of the way up the steep smooth slope while the men held the other end of the rope. Once in the caves he noosed the rope to a piece of fallen rock, and next day a strong iron ring was driven into the floor, and a hawser passed through it.
"Then Mr. Perera and I made the ascent. The largest cavern was 197 feet long, with a floor width averaging 11 feet. No vegetation grows therein. But we did find under a rock in the cave three eggs of the peregrine falcon, which vary strangely in hue from chocolate to almost white. The eggs of this bird have never been taken in Ceylon before.
"We were grievously disappointed with our search, and had to be content with a bare negative gain—the absolute assurance that the caves contained no trace of previous human occupation. The foot of man never desecrated this sanctuary of the eagle and falcon before. Being virtually inaccessible, it was left to bird and bat and mountain bee. Overhead the beetling crag jutted out forty feet and more, while under foot the rock floor was polished and slippery from untold centuries of wear by the feet of myriads on myriads of birds."
If, however, in years to come an adventurous climber climbs to this chamber of the winds he will find in a niche a sealed record of its daring exploration, and in just such a way the buried buildings on the Sigiri Rock are the record of a crime of 1,400 years ago.
A king of Ceylon was buried alive with his face to the east by his brutal son, who became king in his place. This in its turn was said to be a punishment because the old king buried alive a holy man who was in his way when building a great tank.
But, dreading the revenge of his brother, the young king fortified the Sigiri rock. There he lived for eighteen miserable years, and at the end of that time his brother came and slew him.
He happened to turn his elephant to avoid a pit, and, thinking he was running away, his people lost heart and the enemy cried out, "They're running away."
Instead of hiding within his fortress, when the critical moment came, the man it was to protect had lost faith in it, and in his misery went out to his last fight.