B. M. Bower

“ He went on, stepping across the fissure where the water flowed in, and keeping to the dank rim which widened as he proceeded. Although the walls rose roughly perpendicular with here an outward bulge, there a falling back to a steep incline, there was visible no passage nor even a split, save where the water came sliding down the fissure that was no more than a seam. All along the wall, high up wherever a smooth surface offered, there were the carvings, with little variation in their sinister portent, the great chain of evil, and the death of many. ”

“ Even in his urgent need of finding his way back to the surface, his scientific mind ruled Abington, for he caught himself turning the lamp rays back for a second look at hieroglyphics carved high up.
“What the deuce!” he muttered. “That can mean nothing but evil—much evil—and the death of many. Aztec and Egyptian—not burial but death, and an evil death at that. Death to many—repeated over there. ”

“ Frequently he was forced to climb up through crevices where the rocks were worn glossy—always, wherever rock lay underfoot, the same smoothness prevailed—until it seemed to him that he must soon emerge upon the crest of the high-turreted ridge which formed that wall of the cañon. ”