The Minneapolis journal., 1901-02-27
The Guardians OF Death
BY CHARLES LEE TAYLOR.


into its woodwork. But to a civil engineer
in the unsettled center Of Mexico any shelter
is matter for gratitude. Darrell and | took
possession without any qualms Of guilt for
it was evident that the owner had moved
out years before. While the cook built fire
and prepared dinner in the main room we
proceeded to explore not without caution,
for the old shack looked like a promising
resort for snakes. l had just dispatched
couple that were keeping house in side
room, when a shout from Darrell sum-
moned me 20 the second story.
Here's queer thing to turn up in an
abandoned house, he called.
He was bending over small box, bound
In horsehide. the lid of which he had pried
open. Together We carried it down stairs,
and went through the contents They were
surprising enough; at least it was surpris-
ing that the tenants should have left such
papers behind them, for here were deeds to
properly, leases, some mortgage papers, and
other valuable documents besides a number
OF family records, all dated many years
before, but all in good state of preserva-
tion. What interested me most however, was
small map drawn prepared paper the
work of an amateur. Whoever drew it knew
something about surveying, for he had his
ranges and scales fairly correct. He had
started at spring at the foot of an INDICATED
hill in the foothills of the San Luis range
and run lineup ravine $40 feet. Then he
had run 125 feet up g cross ravne, turning
to the left, and had marked a cross on the
face, OF a wall rising sheer 90 feet His
marks showed the elevation of this cross to
be 80 feet above the bed of the ravlne Here
was food for speculation.
Darrell" said l to my companion, ''the
man that drew that map didn't do it for
fun
81 guess that's right" replied Darrell
There's something behind the place marked
by that cross. But what is it?"
Whats the most likely thing to be in the
side of cliff in this country?'
All, see, said he. "a cave you mean.
But what's in the cave, them"
That's what we'll find out if we can To-
cate the cave said l.
Luck was with us in that matter. 1t
wasn't week later when one of our sur
veyors came in with a tale of having located
a fine spring at the foot of hill, and near
one OF the widest ravines that he had ever
set eyes on. Neither Darrell nor l rested easy
until we were on the way to the spot with the
little map tucked under my belt. We were
to split even on whatever we found. Poor
Darrell When l think of that bargain l
have chill even to this day
1t took us nearly q day mule back to
reach our destination. There were the
spring. the hill and the ravine running back
est spots I ever saw in wild country; one
couldn't help feeling a bit put out with its
loneliness. Up the big ravine we trudged,
until We reached the cross gulch; a sheer cut
through the solid rock; the work OF centuries
of fierce torrents.
1t took us a long time to make out the
cross, as the cliff was in semi darkness, and
patches of moss were growing over the sur
face, but we located it at last, and saw
that the only way to reach it was from the
top of the cliff
Having foreseen this contingency, we had
brought along a stout rope, and near the
edge of the cliff, which We mounted after
long detour. we found convenient tree. For
one of us to lower the other would be an
easy matter. Both of us were eager to go.
Which should it. be? The good old American
method of tipped coin was the arbiter and
Darrell won. Presently he was sitting in the
blight of the rope before the spot where the
cross was marked, and calling up his reports
to me-.
Yes; there's cave here all right, but It's
walled up. Lower me down that geologist's
| hammer of yours and can break the iimsy
thing in. -
l sent the hammer down on a string, and
for five minutes Darrell hammered and
painted, and the sound OF crumbling masonry
told me that he was making headway. Pre-
sently there came sort of gasp from him.
'Phewi That's bad air! Don't dare go in
there for a Bit
Throw in lighted match, and if it burns
the air is pure enough" 1 called, excitedly,
for l was in a hurry to know what was in
| that cave.
..There she goes'' said Darrell in a minute
later. Burns all right oh, great Caesar!"
What's the matter? What is it?" l cried,
dancing on the edge of the cliff
Its gold; that what it is; big bracelet
of it right near the entrance. There's some
thing that looks like bones near it. 7
"Just what 1 suspected!' l cried jubilantly.
"An Aztec burial cave probably, and the fell
low that drew the map found it out some
way. They buried their finest treasures with
their dead. It's fortune, Darrell
"Ghastly enough place to find it in," he
said, but here's for it, anyway, and he
entered the opening that he had made.
For what seemed to me long minutes I lay
peering over the cliff at the twitching rope
that gave indications of DarreFs movements
Then there echoed from the opposite side of
the ravine strange sound, as of the rafting
of many castanetS, followed by a Shrek of
such grizzly terror as l never again want to
hear. The next instant Darrell plunged froth
from the mouth of the cave, swung out from
the face of the cliff swung back again.
against the rock, and still shrieking horribly
so that the ravine reverberated with the
sound Of it, slipped through the blight Of the
rope and fell headlong to the rocks below
For moment l lay there stricken, waiting,
for knew not what thing of horror to issue
from the mysterious cavern Then l rushed
down to the aid of my motionless companion
Half the contents of my flask had been forced
down his throat before he opened his eyes.
But not to consciousness did he open them;
the glare in them told me that l tried to re-
call his mind.
What was it, old man? What was it?"
asked him.
He half raised himself and tried to speak,
gasping and choking like man being stran-
gled.
THE hands! The hands of the dead! At
my throat! They're throttling mel Help!"
He tore at his throat with mad strength:
then his limbs relaxed and he fell back in
my arms, lifeless. l believe in my inmost
soul that il was not the fall from the cliff,
but sheer terror that killed him.
How 1 ever lived through that fearful,
horror-haunted ride to the camp I don't
know. was crazy with fever and deIirium
when l reached there. 1t wasn't till weeks
afterward that they told me of the expedition
that went out to find and bury Darrell NV
rawlings and the map that they found when
they undressed me gave them a working clue
to the tragedy. They found the rope tied to
the tree and two of the men went down and
entered the cave, armed with stout clubs for
their theory was that poor Darrell had been
killed by venomous snake That would not
have explained his last words; but what they
found did. few yards in from the entrance
lay sprawled heap of artieulated skeletons.
Darrels hat was beneath this heap. Cropping
his way in, he had displaced slender post
which held in place on a shelf above him the
grim, dead guardians of the dead They had
fallen upon the invader and claimed him for
their own.
The men searched the cave. Row after row
OF long dead mummies they found, but little
treasure. The bracelet that had cost Darrell
his life and one or two small gold carvings