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A moment later, as Goosal walked on beside the professor and Tom, the aged Indian came to a pause, and, pointing ahead, murmured: "The city of the dead!" They saw the niches cut in the rock walls, niches that held the countless bones of those who had died many, many years before. It was a vast Indian grave.
"No, Learned One, though I have heard stories about there being many cities, or parts of a big one, beneath the mountain, and when it was above ground there were many entrances to it." "That settles it!" cried the professor in English, having talked to Goosal in Spanish. "We'll try this and see where it leads." They entered the stone-lined passage.
If it hadn't been that you shot the jaguar this never would have come about." That Professor Bumper was astonished, and Mr. Damon likewise, when they heard the story of Tom and Ned, is stating it mildly. "Come on!" exclaimed the scientist, as Tom finished, "we must see this Goosal at once. If my map is destroyed, and it seems to be, this old Indian may be our only hope.
Some of the patches carried with them bunches of grass and small bushes. "Yes, it will be best to move into the jungle," said the professor. "Goosal, you had better take the lead." It was wonderful to see how well the aged Indian bore up in spite of his years, and walked on ahead.
And to keep the work going on here, at these shafts," put in the scientist, "so that if any of their spies happen to come here they will think we still believe the buried city to be just below us. To that end we must keep the Indians digging, though I am convinced now that it is useless." Accordingly preparations were made for an expedition into the jungle under the leadership of Goosal.
The higher classes are very regular in their ablutions; every morning, be the water cold or warm, the Rajpoot and Brahmin, the respectable middle classes, and all in the village who lay any claim to social position, have their goosal or bath.
"Through the cavern of the dead," was the answer when the questions were modified. "Bless my diamond ring!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, when Professor Bumper translated the reply. "What does he mean?" And then, after some talk, this information came out. Years before, when Goosal was a young man, he had been taken by his grandfather on a journey through the jungle.
He seemed nervous and shy, and glanced from Tom and Ned to his grandson-in-law, as the latter talked rapidly in the Indian dialect. Then Goosal made answer, but what it was all about the boys could not tell. "Goosal say," translated Tal, "that he know a story of a very old city away down under ground." "Tell us about it!" urged Tom eagerly. But a difficulty very soon developed.
"Now Goosal can tell you," said Tal, evidently pleased that he had, in a measure, solved the problem caused by the burning of the professor's map. "Goosal very old Indian. He know old stories legends very old." "Well, if he can tell us how to find the buried city of Kurzon and the the things in it," said Tom, "he's all right!"
Somehow or other, though I can't tell why, I begin to see daylight ahead of us." "I wish I did," remarked Ned. "Here comes Goosal I think," murmured Tom, and he pointed to an Indian, bent with the weight of years, who, led by Tal's wife, was slowly approaching the hut.
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