Torches were lighted and the cave entered. There were many side

passages; and within these the astute Umballa saw the true reason for

the curse of the Mohammedans: guns and powder, hundreds and hundreds of

pounds of black destruction! A lower gallery--the mouth of which lay

under a slab of rock--led to the pit wherein rested the filigree

basket. . . . For a time Umballa acted like a madman. He sang,

chanted, dug his hands into the gold and stones; choked, sobbed. Here

was true kingship; the private treasures of a dozen decades, all his

for the taking. He forgot his enemies and their nearness as the

fortune revealed itself to him.

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As his men at length staggered out of the lower gallery with the basket

slung upon an improvised litter he espied his enemies marching up the

hill! Back into the cave again. Umballa cursed and bit his nails. He

was unarmed, as were his men, and he had not time to search among the

smuggled arms to find his need.

"Heaven born," spoke up the man who had known where the cave was,

"there is an exit on the other side. We can go through that without

yonder people noticing us."

"A fortune for each of you when you put this on the sloop!"

Back through the cave they rushed, torches flaring. Once a bearer

stumbled over a powder can, and the torch holder all but sprawled over

him. Umballa's hair stood on end. Fear impelled the men toward the

exit.

"There is powder enough here to blow up all of Hind! Hasten!"

At the mouth of the exit the men with the torches, finding no further

need of them, carelessly flung them aside.

"Fools!" roared Umballa; "you have destroyed us!"

He fled. The bearers followed with the burden. Down the side of the

promontory they slid. Under a projecting ledge they paused, sweating

with terror. Suddenly the whole island rocked. An explosion followed

that was heard half a hundred miles away, where the gunboat of the

British Raj patrolled the shores. Rocks, trees, sand filled the air,

and small fires broke out here and there. The bulk of the damage,

however, was done to the far side of the promontory, not where the

frightened Umballa stood. A twisted rifle barrel fell at his feet.

"To the sloop!" he yelled. "It is all over!"

On the far side the other treasure seekers stood huddled together,

scarce knowing which way to turn. The miracle of it was that none of

them was hurt. Perhaps a quarter of an hour passed before their

faculties awoke.

"Look!" cried Kathlyn, pointing seaward.

What she saw was Umballa, setting adrift the boats which had brought

them from the mainland.

Came a second explosion, far more furious than the first. In the

downward rush Kathlyn stumbled and fell, the debris falling all about

her.




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