The Face of Isis by Cyril G

  Amazing Stories, March, 1929

  Amazing Stories

  2

  The Face of Isis

  by Cyril G. Wates

  CHAPTER I

  Aquarium. Where are you bound? It doesn’t

  The Golden Gasket

  matter, anyhow; you’re going with me. Come

  on, Leicester’s in the next block.”

  Unheeding my protests, he hurried me

  LLIOTT COURTLAND swung into along to where a rather dilapidated sporting the driver’s seat, his face aglow with

  E

  car was parked.

  pleasure. He stepped on the starter,

  “Jump in! Jump in!” he cried.

  threw in the gear and released the clutch.

  “But where is your friend?” I asked,

  There was a crash as the little roadster backed doubtfully, Mr.—er—Mr. Lesterter?”

  violently into a portly and dignified limousine, Courtland roared with glee.

  which was reposing pompously at the curb a

  “Leicester! This is Leicester. Got tired

  few feet behind us.

  of Lizzie. No name for a bachelor’s car. So

  “Damn!” ejaculated Courtland, “That’s

  called him Leicester. You know, Queen

  as bad as Old Waddles and the Face of Isis!”

  Lizzie’s best beau. Earl of Leicester.”

  Courtland all over. Rattle-brained as

  MANY years before, Courtland and I were

  ever. And then, in his excitement, he threw the classmates, but after our graduation we drifted gear shift into reverse instead of low and

  apart and I had not heard from him for a long

  brought about the collision which railed forth

  time. At last, business called me east. The

  his cryptic remark.

  morning after my arrival in Boston, I left my

  “That’s as bad as Old Waddles and the

  hotel and turned down Boylston Street. As I

  Face of Isis!”

  was standing at the corner of Washington,

  I thought it wise not to interrupt him in

  waiting for the traffic signals to change, I

  his duties at the steering wheel, to demand an

  received a violent blow between the shoulder

  explanation. Waddles I knew. It was the

  blades and wheeled around to behold my old

  popular name for Dr. Myron Wadsworth,

  schoolmate.

  Professor of Inorganic Chemistry under whom

  “By the Pyramids of Egypt!” he Courtland and I had learned our first roared, “If it isn’t Pete the Polliwog!”

  smattering of the mysteries of spectrum

  “You seem to be in some doubt about

  analysis. I remembered the little man vividly,

  it,” I grumbled, wishing that elbows were with his faultlessly trimmed Vandyke beard double jointed, so that I could rub my spine,

  and gold pince-nez, hurrying across the

  “How do you know I’m not the Emir of Campus with that peculiar waddle, which, in Afghanistan in disguise?”

  combination with his name, had been

  “Good old Pete!” cried Courtland, responsible for the cognomen “Old Waddles.”

  pumphandling my arm like mad, “I’d know

  He always carried a cane, not to assist his

  that homely frog face if I saw it in the faltering steps, for it never touched the

  The Face of Isis

  3

  ground, and besides, he was extremely active,

  Dynasty. King Kutamen-Pash. That’s his

  but to keep his hat on! He invariably grasped

  cartouche on the corners.”

  that cane like a billiard cue and rested the

  The casket, which must have been

  crook on the crown of his grey felt hat. It

  immensely valuable, was a marvel of the

  made no difference to Waddles whether the

  goldsmith’s art. At the corners were four

  wind blew a hurricane or a zephyr, that cane

  female figures, each bearing in uplifted hands, was used for one purpose only—to hold his

  a scarab inscribed with the king’s name and

  hat on!

  titles in the customary hieroglyphics. On the

  Yes, I knew Old Waddles, but head of each of these statues was a curious Courtland’s reference to the “Face of Isis” left crown like a globe with two curved horns.

  me completely in the dark. It sounded like the

  The top of the casket bore a design in

  name of some heathen idol. Persian or bas-relief, representing a bull with its Egyptian. Egyptian, that was it. But what an

  forehoofs resting on a crescent and the brow

  Egyptian God had to do with Waddles, and

  of the animal bore another scarab inscribed

  what they both had to do with a broken down

  with the royal symbols. The sides of the box

  car, was beyond my power of imagination.

  were closely covered with rows and rows of

  Presently we escaped from the thick of

  hieroglyphics. I turned the massive casket

  the traffic and were clattering up over and on the bottom, which was otherwise Commonwealth Avenue bound for the perfectly smooth, was a deeply incised Cambridge side of the Charles. No longer in

  pattern.

  imminent danger of sudden death, I ventured

  “This looks for all the world like a

  to ask for an explanation, sensing a possible

  working drawing for some kind of machine,” I

  story for my newspaper, out West.

  commented.

  “Oh! that!” exclaimed Courtland, “The

  “You’re not far wrong, at that,” replied

  Face of Isis! Quite an adventure! Poor old

  Courtland, as he took the casket from me and

  Waddles, he was mad as a wet hen! I’ll take

  set it on the table. And then he told me the

  you out to the shanty and my Jap’11 get us a

  promised story. I cannot attempt to reproduce

  snack. After dinner, I’ll tell you the story, if Courtland’s jerky, emphatic speech, or the

  you care to hear it.”

  graphic gestures, with which he filled in the

  gaps in his narrative. The whole story was so

  THAT evening, in Courtland’s cosy den, with

  improbable that I should have doubted

  our pipes lit and drawing well-and our feet

  Courtland’s veracity, but for the dumb witness

  stretched out on the fender, I reminded my

  of the glittering golden casket on the table.

  friend of his promise. Courtland puffed Professor Wadsworth is dead, so his evidence thoughtfully for a few seconds.

  is not available. Courtland has given me

  “Know anything about Egyptology?”

  permission to publish the story, so here it is.

  he asked, abruptly.

  Take it or leave it!

  “Not a thing. Why?”

  He rose and went to a large cabinet

  and returned bearing a metal casket about a

  CHAPTER II

  foot square and perhaps half as deep. He

  The Mountains of Morocco

  handed it to me and I exclaimed in surprise as

  I felt its weight.

  “What do you think of that?” asked

  DURING his last two years at school,

  Courtland. “It’s solid gold,
you know. Fifth

  Courtland was one of Professor Wadsworth’s

  Amazing Stories

  4

  favorite pupils, not on account of any special

  omit it here and refer the curious reader to

  aptitude in chemistry, but because the Prof. Wadsworth’s monumental work, professor discovered Courtland in the school

  “History of the Egyptian Migration in the

  library one day, absorbed in a book on ancient

  Fifth and Sixth Dynasties.”

  Inca civilization. It happened that archaeology Although the travelers were now

  was Old Waddles’ special hobby and he had

  within a few miles of their destination, their

  devoted much time to the theory that the difficulties had only begun. They sought out Aztec culture was an offshoot of that of the

  Captain André Guilemont, the French Consul,

  ancient Egyptians.

  with whom the professor had been in

  In Courtland, he found a devoted correspondence, and by him they were disciple and the friendship which developed as

  introduced to Signor Ostora, the Spanish

  the result of a common interest, continued

  governor of Ifni. They finally succeeded in

  after Courtland left school and entered persuading the governor that they were neither Harvard. It came as no surprise to Courtland,

  treasure hunters nor American brigands, and

  therefore, when, shortly after his graduation,

  after much shrugging of shoulders and many

  he received a letter from the professor, Spanish expletives, he agreed to assist them in inviting him to act as his assistant in an organizing a transport train to take them into expedition to the west coast of Morocco, the interior.

  where Waddles hoped to find evidences of an

  And so, ten days after their arrival in

  Egyptian migration to Mexico.

  Morocco, a motley procession wound its way

  Courtland, who was under no material

  through the outskirts of Ifni and plodded

  necessity to work for his living, snatched at

  across the sandy waste beyond. First came

  the opportunity for adventure, and after Achmed Idrees, the guide, astride a raw-boned hurried but thorough preparations, the last nag and looking very patriarchal in his kaftan week in October found him embarked with the

  and tarboosh. Next in order were Courtland

  Professor on the S. S. Glaconic, bound for and Professor Wadsworth, on ponies, the

  Southampton. Here they trans-shipped to professor presenting quite an oriental Havre and thence journeyed by train through

  appearance in a red fez, which he held on by

  France and over the border to Cadiz on the

  means of the crook of his inseparable walking

  southern coast of Spain.

  stick; then came a train of donkeys and

  At Cadiz they succeeded in chartering

  camels, laden with tents, bedding, boxes of

  a small sailing vessel with a villainous looking food, water-skins, spades, picks, and all the

  captain and a still more disreputable crew.

  mingled paraphernalia of an exploring party.

  And five days later they and their As they wound their way amongst sand dunes belongings were put ashore at Ifni, a Spanish

  and over dried watercourses, they could see

  port on the coast of Morocco.

  the snowcapped summits of the so-called

  Courtland explained to me at Anti-Atlas range, glistening in the blazing considerable length Old Waddles’ reasons for

  sunlight, far to the northeast.

  believing that if relics of an ancient Egyptian The professor had told Achmed that

  migration existed at all, they would be found

  they wished to go to the mountains, but that he in the vicinity of the southern branch of the

  would decide upon their exact destination

  Atlas Mountains, which come down almost to

  after they left Ifni.

  They had been traveling

  the shore line at Ifni, but as this explanation for two hours, when the guide reined in his

  has absolutely no bearing upon the remarkable

  steed.

  events which arose from the expedition, I will

  “You tell Achmed where you want go,

  The Face of Isis

  5

  Sidi. Achmed take. Take nenyplace. You tell

  terms of modern exploration, Courtland. You

  where.”

  must remember that the ancients traveled very

  The Professor, who had been scanning

  slowly and in large parties, establishing

  the jagged outline of the mountains through

  themselves step by step, more or less

  his binoculars, pointed to a deep notch, on

  permanently. The journey from Egypt to the

  either side of which rose mighty peaks.

  coast of Morocco was a matter of years,

  “Do you see that notch, Achmed?”

  perhaps of generations. Besides, the crossing

  “What mean ‘Nosh,’ Sidi?”

  of the mountains must have been a very

  “The opening in the mountains.”

  laborious undertaking, so it seems logical that

  “Yes. Me see. Me know. Dat called

  they would erect their permanent dwellings

  Djibel el Sheetan. Same you call Debil Hill.

  and storehouses at the foot of the pass, rather You want me take?”

  than at the coast. However, we shall see when

  “Yes, that’s the place. How long will it

  we get there.”

  take us to get there, Achmed?”

  That night the party camped at a well,

  “One, two, t’ree day, Sidi. Country lot

  surrounded by scraggy palms. The following

  rough. Rocks, mountain, no much water.”

  day they began to enter the foothills and the

  Achmed spurred his horse.

  mighty peaks, which flanked the pass, rose

  “Yallah, halluf!” he yelled.

  higher and higher on each hand as they

  “If I am not wrong in my surmise,”

  advanced. Courtland’s attention was

  remarked the professor, “that notch is the only especially attracted by an extraordinary

  pass through which the Egyptian explorers

  pinnacle of rock which dominated the

  could have reached the coast when traveling

  entrance to the pass. It towered up to a height by the route which I am confident they of perhaps eight hundred feet above the followed.”

  surrounding terrain, and its sides were so

  “But wouldn’t there be a better chance

  smooth and vertical, that it gave the

  of finding traces of their passage on the coast impression of a monolith erected by the hand

  itself?” suggested Courtland, “Shipyards, of man.

  stone causeways, workmen’s dwellings and

  “Dat Djibel el Sheetan.” Achmed

  that sort of thing.”

  replied to Courtland’s question. “Igrament

  “You are undoubtedly correct that such

  feller say Debil lib on top of he. Achmed no

  engineering works existed in great abundance,

  believe dat.”

  Courtland, but it would be useless to search

  for any traces of them now. The western shore

  THEY made camp on the third day on a broad

  line of Africa has been sinking for many expanse of level ground west of the great rock centuries and the Egyptian shipyards are sunk

  tower. Beyond rose the precipitous walls of

  fathoms deep in the ocean. If any buildin
gs

  the gorge leading to the pass and in the misty

  remain above the water, the Moors have torn

  distance shone the sea, like a silver shield.

  them down long ago and used the material for

  The scenery was grand and wild beyond

  other purposes.”

  description, but the professor displayed no

  “But why should we have any better

  interest in the beauties of nature when

  luck in the mountains, Professor? It seems to

  Courtland called his attention to them. His

  me that the Egyptians would have merely mind was entirely taken up with certain camped en route. Just tents and shacks. No

  rounded humps which broke the even level of

  permanent remains.”

  the plain at intervals. As soon as the tents

  “That’s because you are thinking in

  were pitched and a meal eaten, the

  Amazing Stories

  6

  archaeologist started off on a tour of through holes in the sides of the horseshoe.

  investigation. He was confident that treasures

  On each of the bars were a number of

  were to be found in the mysterious mounds;

  rings which tinkled like little bells when the

  treasures which would put the far famed thing was taken by the handle and shaken.

  “Valley of the Kings” utterly in the shade.

  “A SISTRUM! AN UNDOUBTED

  Already he saw the name of Professor Myron

  SISTRUM!” shouted the professor.

  Wadsworth in glaring headlines on the front

  “A cistern?” queried Courtland,

  page of all the principal newspapers.

  puzzled.

  The following day the men were put to