Chief Priest of the Sun

The rock shelf we followed became gradually somewhat wider, so I moved forward with greater freedom. The path continued to ascend, winding unevenly along the precipitous face of the cliff, until we must have climbed nearly to the summit of the mighty bluff. But the overhanging crest rendered it impossible for us to do more than guess the situation. We were but ants clinging to a wall and unable to see more than a few yards ahead. Finally we attained a point where the cliff bulged outward in a wide curve, not unlike the rounded bow of a ship, and were compelled to move with renewed caution along the narrowed shelf, which was seemingly unsupported. Creeping fearfully forward on hands and knees around the sharp corner I found myself before the yawning entrance to a cavern. I realized that here was the ending of our toilsome climb, for I could see nothing beyond, excepting a precipitous wall of stone. If the path had continuation, it must pass through the cave.

"Yonder yawns a gloomy-looking hole, Master Benteen," muttered the Puritan, lying at full length beside me, and staring ahead. "Yet my eyes see no sign of life to alarm us."

"The front is unguarded surely," I admitted gravely, "but do not feel confident that there are no occupants within. If I mistake not, we have stumbled upon the very spot whence the priests signal down to the valley the rising and setting of the sun."