5
The Altar of the Flaming God
It was at the moment that Tarzan turned from the closed door to
pursue his way to the outer world. The thing came without warning.
One instant all was quiet and stability--the next, and the world
rocked, the tortured sides of the narrow passageway split and
crumbled, great blocks of granite, dislodged from the ceiling,
tumbled into the narrow way, choking it, and the walls bent inward
upon the wreckage. Beneath the blow of a fragment of the roof,
Tarzan staggered back against the door to the treasure room, his
weight pushed it open and his body rolled inward upon the floor.
In the great apartment where the treasure lay less damage was wrought
by the earthquake. A few ingots toppled from the higher tiers, a
single piece of the rocky ceiling splintered off and crashed downward
to the floor, and the walls cracked, though they did not collapse.
There was but the single shock, no other followed to complete the
damage undertaken by the first. Werper, thrown to his length by
the suddenness and violence of the disturbance, staggered to his
feet when he found himself unhurt. Groping his way toward the
far end of the chamber, he sought the candle which Tarzan had left
stuck in its own wax upon the protruding end of an ingot.
By striking numerous matches the Belgian at last found what
he sought, and when, a moment later, the sickly rays relieved the
Stygian darkness about him, he breathed a nervous sigh of relief,
for the impenetrable gloom had accentuated the terrors of his
situation.
As they became accustomed to the light the man turned his eyes toward
the door--his one thought now was of escape from this frightful
tomb--and as he did so he saw the body of the naked giant lying
stretched upon the floor just within the doorway. Werper drew
back in sudden fear of detection; but a second glance convinced
him that the Englishman was dead. From a great gash in the man's
head a pool of blood had collected upon the concrete floor.
Quickly, the Belgian leaped over the prostrate form of his erstwhile
host, and without a thought of succor for the man in whom, for
aught he knew, life still remained, he bolted for the passageway
and safety.
But his renewed hopes were soon dashed. Just beyond the doorway
he found the passage completely clogged and choked by impenetrable
masses of shattered rock. Once more he turned and re-entered the
treasure vault. Taking the candle from its place he commenced a
systematic search of the apartment, nor had he gone far before he
discovered another door in the opposite end of the room, a door
which gave upon creaking hinges to the weight of his body. Beyond
the door lay another narrow passageway. Along this Werper made his
way, ascending a flight of stone steps to another corridor twenty
feet above the level of the first. The flickering candle lighted
the way before him, and a moment later he was thankful for the
possession of this crude and antiquated luminant, which, a few hours
before he might have looked upon with contempt, for it showed him,
just in time, a yawning pit, apparently terminating the tunnel he
was traversing.
Before him was a circular shaft. He held the candle above it
and peered downward. Below him, at a great distance, he saw the
light reflected back from the surface of a pool of water. He had
come upon a well. He raised the candle above his head and peered
across the black void, and there upon the opposite side he saw the
continuation of the tunnel; but how was he to span the gulf?
As he stood there measuring the distance to the opposite side and
wondering if he dared venture so great a leap, there broke suddenly
upon his startled ears a piercing scream which diminished gradually
until it ended in a series of dismal moans. The voice seemed
partly human, yet so hideous that it might well have emanated from
the tortured throat of a lost soul, writhing in the fires of hell.
The Belgian shuddered and looked fearfully upward, for the scream
had seemed to come from above him. As he looked he saw an opening
far overhead, and a patch of sky pinked with brilliant stars.
His half-formed intention to call for help was expunged by the
terrifying cry--where such a voice lived, no human creatures could
dwell. He dared not reveal himself to whatever inhabitants dwelt
in the place above him. He cursed himself for a fool that he had
ever embarked upon such a mission. He wished himself safely back in
the camp of Achmet Zek, and would almost have embraced an opportunity
to give himself up to the military authorities of the Congo if
by so doing he might be rescued from the frightful predicament in
which he now was.
He listened fearfully, but the cry was not repeated, and at last
spurred to desperate means, he gathered himself for the leap across
the chasm. Going back twenty paces, he took a running start, and
at the edge of the well, leaped upward and outward in an attempt
to gain the opposite side.
In his hand he clutched the sputtering candle, and as he took the
leap the rush of air extinguished it. In utter darkness he flew
through space, clutching outward for a hold should his feet miss
the invisible ledge.
He struck the edge of the door of the opposite terminus of the rocky
tunnel with his knees, slipped backward, clutched desperately for
a moment, and at last hung half within and half without the opening;
but he was safe. For several minutes he dared not move; but clung,
weak and sweating, where he lay. At last, cautiously, he drew
himself well within the tunnel, and again he lay at full length
upon the floor, fighting to regain control of his shattered nerves.
When his knees struck the edge of the tunnel he had dropped the
candle. Presently, hoping against hope that it had fallen upon
the floor of the passageway, rather than back into the depths of
the well, he rose upon all fours and commenced a diligent search
for the little tallow cylinder, which now seemed infinitely more
precious to him than all the fabulous wealth of the hoarded ingots
of Opar.
And when, at last, he found it, he clasped it to him and sank back
sobbing and exhausted. For many minutes he lay trembling and broken;
but finally he drew himself to a sitting posture, and taking a match
from his pocket, lighted the stump of the candle which remained to
him. With the light he found it easier to regain control of his
nerves, and presently he was again making his way along the tunnel
in search of an avenue of escape. The horrid cry that had come
down to him from above through the ancient well-shaft still haunted
him, so that he trembled in terror at even the sounds of his own
cautious advance.
He had gone forward but a short distance, when, to his chagrin,
a wall of masonry barred his farther progress, closing the tunnel
completely from top to bottom and from side to side. What could
it mean? Werper was an educated and intelligent man. His military
training had taught him to use his mind for the purpose for which
it was intended. A blind tunnel such as this was senseless. It
must continue beyond the wall. Someone, at some time in the past,
had had it blocked for an unknown purpose of his own. The man
fell to examining the masonry by the light of his candle. To his
delight he discovered that the thin blocks of hewn stone of which
it was constructed were fitted in loosely without mortar or cement.
He tugged upon one of them, and to his joy found that it was easily
removable. One after another he pulled out the blocks until he had
opened an aperture large enough to admit his body, then he crawled
through into a large, low chamber. Across this another door barred
his way; but this, too, gave before his efforts, for it was not
barred. A long, dark corridor showed before him, but before he
had followed it far, his candle burned down until it scorched his
fingers. With an oath he dropped it to the floor, where it sputtered
for a moment and went out.
Now he was in total darkness, and again terror rode heavily astride
his neck. What further pitfalls and dangers lay ahead he could
not guess; but that he was as far as ever from liberty he was quite
willing to believe, so depressing is utter absence of light to one
in unfamiliar surroundings.
Slowly he groped his way along, feeling with his hands upon the
tunnel's walls, and cautiously with his feet ahead of him upon the
floor before he could take a single forward step. How long he crept
on thus he could not guess; but at last, feeling that the tunnel's
length was interminable, and exhausted by his efforts, by terror,
and loss of sleep, he determined to lie down and rest before
proceeding farther.
When he awoke there was no change in the surrounding blackness.
He might have slept a second or a day--he could not know; but that
he had slept for some time was attested by the fact that he felt
refreshed and hungry.
Again he commenced his groping advance; but this time he had gone
but a short distance when he emerged into a room, which was lighted
through an opening in the ceiling, from which a flight of concrete
steps led downward to the floor of the chamber.
Above him, through the aperture, Werper could see sunlight glancing
from massive columns, which were twined about by clinging vines.
He listened; but he heard no sound other than the soughing of the
wind through leafy branches, the hoarse cries of birds, and the
chattering of monkeys.
Boldly he ascended the stairway, to find himself in a circular
court. Just before him stood a stone altar, stained with rusty-brown
discolorations. At the time Werper gave no thought to an explanation
of these stains--later their origin became all too hideously apparent
to him.
Beside the opening in the floor, just behind the altar, through
which he had entered the court from the subterranean chamber below,
the Belgian discovered several doors leading from the enclosure
upon the level of the floor. Above, and circling the courtyard, was
a series of open balconies. Monkeys scampered about the deserted
ruins, and gaily plumaged birds flitted in and out among the
columns and the galleries far above; but no sign of human presence
was discernible. Werper felt relieved. He sighed, as though a
great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He took a step
toward one of the exits, and then he halted, wide-eyed in astonishment
and terror, for almost at the same instant a dozen doors opened in
the courtyard wall and a horde of frightful men rushed in upon him.
They were the priests of the Flaming God of Opar--the same, shaggy,
knotted, hideous little men who had dragged Jane Clayton to the
sacrificial altar at this very spot years before. Their long arms,
their short and crooked legs, their close-set, evil eyes, and their
low, receding foreheads gave them a bestial appearance that sent a
qualm of paralyzing fright through the shaken nerves of the Belgian.
With a scream he turned to flee back into the lesser terrors of
the gloomy corridors and apartments from which he had just emerged,
but the frightful men anticipated his intentions. They blocked
the way; they seized him, and though he fell, groveling upon his
knees before them, begging for his life, they bound him and hurled
him to the floor of the inner temple.
The rest was but a repetition of what Tarzan and Jane Clayton had
passed through. The priestesses came, and with them La, the High
Priestess. Werper was raised and laid across the altar. Cold
sweat exuded from his every pore as La raised the cruel, sacrificial
knife above him. The death chant fell upon his tortured ears. His
staring eyes wandered to the golden goblets from which the hideous
votaries would soon quench their inhuman thirst in his own, warm
life-blood.
He wished that he might be granted the brief respite of unconsciousness
before the final plunge of the keen blade--and then there was a
frightful roar that sounded almost in his ears. The High Priestess
lowered her dagger. Her eyes went wide in horror. The priestesses,
her votaresses, screamed and fled madly toward the exits. The
priests roared out their rage and terror according to the temper
of their courage. Werper strained his neck about to catch a sight
of the cause of their panic, and when, at last he saw it, he too
went cold in dread, for what his eyes beheld was the figure of a
huge lion standing in the center of the temple, and already a single
victim lay mangled beneath his cruel paws.
Again the lord of the wilderness roared, turning his baleful gaze
upon the altar. La staggered forward, reeled, and fell across
Werper in a swoon.
