CHAPTER XV.

THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER LAYS A TRAP

“You see, it’s Pyramid Land we have to reach now,” explained Coppertop.

“That’s where the mummies and sacred cats come from!” cried Tibbs. “And Arab steeds, and Bedouins! We shall have a ripping time there!”

“’Es, it will be beautiful if there are lots of Mummies. We can have one each, and heaps of cuddles!” cried Kiddiwee.

“Oh, they’re not that kind,” explained his brother. “They’re not like Celia’s mummie. These mummies are all dried up, and yellow, and wrapt up in thousands of bandages.”

“Well, there’s not much difference--’cept the bandages,” said Kiddiwee.

“Oh! You’re very, very, very rude!” cried Coppertop. “Mummie may be a little wee bit thin and sunburnt, but people from India are all like that, and she’s beautiful underneath.”

There was an uncomfortable silence after this. Then Tibbs said--

“Well, come on, you people! There’s no time to lose. Let’s make a start.”

“But which way do we go?” asked Coppertop, screwing up her eyes with a puzzled expression.

“Oh, I know the way,” said Tibbs. “Just follow me.”

And off they flew, their wings glinting in the bright sunlight.

They passed over a wide desert, and reached a long, blue river, on the banks of which were the ruins of old, old cities.

“What lovely ruins!” said Coppertop. “They’re too lovely for words! I do love old things!”

“Just look at that huge person!” she cried, pointing to a gigantic stone figure, standing on guard at the entrance to an ancient temple.

“I expect that is older than--older than----”

“Mummie!” suggested Kiddiwee.

“Oh, millions of times!” laughed Coppertop. “Mummie isn’t so very old.”

As they were passing by a sudden breeze sprang up--a spiteful, waspish breeze--that flattened their wings against their backs, making it difficult to fly; and it blew the sand up into clouds.

And as it whistled round the great stone figure they distinctly heard a voice say:

“Come inside! Come inside! I have wonderful treasures, Such gems and such jewels! Come, see them, I pray. And if you will venture, I have--for the asking-- That which you are seeking, A December day!”

“Did you hear that?” cried Coppertop, hardly able to believe her ears. “Our December day at last! Oh, how splendid!”

“It’s a funny place to keep it,” said Tibbs doubtfully.

“’Es, it is!” agreed Kiddiwee; “a dark old place, I ’spect.”

“But we must go down and see,” urged Coppertop, her eyes sparkling.

“All right,” assented Tibbs; “it’ll be rather fun exploring, anyway.”

So they flew down. And close to the ground, between the feet of the stone figure, they found a crumbling doorway.

With beating hearts, they entered.

* * * * *

“It’s getting darkerer and darkerer!” cried Kiddiwee, in an awed voice.

“I shouldn’t be surprised if we come across some snakes!” exclaimed Tibbs. “Better look where you’re going, Celia!”

“I can’t see! And I ’spect I’ll tread on one if it gets any darkerer,” piped Kiddiwee.

They had come to the head of some old, half-ruined steps leading down to a dark passageway.

“It’s an awful risk,” said Tibbs, hesitatingly; “I don’t care about myself--but you two kids!”

“Oh, no! _Do_ let’s go on!” cried Coppertop. “There may be something frightfully old and mysterious down there. I’ll go alone if you’re afraid.”

That settled it! To be taunted by a mere girl was too much for Tibbs, and taking Kiddiwee by the hand, he descended the steps.

It was now so dark that they had to feel their way along the wall, and once or twice they stumbled over the uneven flooring. On one occasion their blood went cold at the sound of a venomous hiss! And “something” brushed against Coppertop’s legs.

After walking along this passage for what seemed to be a very long way, Tibbs said breathlessly--

“I say! This passage is going down hill! We shall be miles underground, soon. I don’t believe there is a December day down here, or any other day. We have been done!”

“But the voice did ask us to come in, didn’t it?” said Coppertop.

“Yes. But whose voice was it? It sounded to me very much like the Clerk of the Weather.”

“It’s dreadful if it was!” panted Coppertop. “Whatever shall we do?”

“Nothing to do but go on, now,” said Tibbs; “we don’t know the way back--and perhaps it’s all right,” he added, seeing how scared they both were.

There was something so mysterious and awful about this dark, down-hill passage, that they all became quite silent, and only the sound of their stumbling steps and quick breathing could be heard.

“If you take my advice, my dears,” came the familiar voice of their old friend, “you’ll turn back.”

“You’ll never find what you are seeking down there,” he added; “and even if Amon Ra had one to spare he’d never part with it. He dislikes foreigners. Take my advice and turn back. You’re near his temple now.”

“Oh, we can’t turn back now!” cried Coppertop. “I’ve never seen Amon Ra. He’s the Sun God. Daddy told me about him. We must go on.”

“Well, I’m going on, for one,” agreed Tibbs.

“’Es, so am I!” echoed Kiddiwee, although his voice trembled.

“Australian--very Australian!” sighed Mr. Atom, and left them to their fate.

After groping along a little further, the children turned a sharp corner and found themselves within a vast chamber.

There were huge pillars on one side, and massive blocks of carved stone on the other. The place was lit by a strange glow which fell between the pillars, throwing their long shadows across the tiled floor.

“Oh, dear! My wings have gone!” gasped Coppertop, for they had vanished the moment she entered the chamber; “I wish I had not been so curious and stupid as to come here!”

“_Look!_” cried Tibbs, in a thrilled voice.

Motionless, they all three turned their eyes to the far end of the chamber.

A golden disk appeared out of the dim shadows which hid the top of the columns; it spun in mid-air, growing brighter and brighter till it shone like the sun itself. Then from the tiled floor under it came two coils of bluish vapour floating up toward the golden sun-disk. As they reached it there came a strange sound, like a mighty whisper, which filled the chamber.

Then, slowly, from behind this veil of vapour, the children beheld a mighty figure appearing.

“It’s Amon Ra!” cried Tibbs, in a husky voice, through his dry lips.

Coppertop fell to her knees, and buried her face in her hands. But Tibbs, although rather shaken, faced him boldly. And Kiddiwee actually ran toward Amon Ra fearlessly, attracted by the bright sun-disk which shone in his forehead.

“Foolish ones!” said Amon Ra in a mighty voice, deep and melodious as the thunder of an organ. “Why have you ventured here? You who have dared to kill a sacred crocodile!”

“If--if you please, sir!” said Tibbs, keeping his voice as steady as he could, “we didn’t kill him! He swallowed us, and the poison from the Bushmen’s arrows settled in his tail--and so--he pegged out!”

“Pegged out?” repeated Amon Ra.

“Well, died,” explained Tibbs.

“That is not true!” thundered Amon Ra, in a voice that made the stone blocks tremble and the pillars sway; “the Clerk of the Weather told me otherwise!”

“The sneak!” broke out Tibbs, between his clenched teeth.

“Silence!” roared the Sun God. “You shall be punished for this. BEGONE!”

As he uttered these words, a fierce hurricane swept through the chamber, carrying the children off their feet, and whirling them away!

And the last thing they were conscious of was the spiteful laughter of the Clerk of the Weather ringing in their ears as they were blown along.