“Not so bad as that, I hope!” exclaimed Kyle, an awful sinking at his heart. “If the cars have gone over the cliff—”

He did not finish, for to him as to all the members of the party the same fear had come. That crash sounded like the knell or doom.

After hours of torture, the storm at last abated. And when they crept back to their encampment they scarcely dared look.

A shout of infinite joy and relief went up from all as their eyes fell on the cars, standing not where they had been left, but still standing.

How severely the cars had felt the power of the storm was apparent at a glance. The ropes that had held one of them to the cliff had been torn from the fastenings and the car itself had been forced by the power of wind and water to within a few inches of the edge of the chasm. Had the storm continued a little longer, it would inevitably have fallen into the abyss.

The ropes of the other cars also had yielded, and the machines were standing athwart the path instead of parallel with it. The heavy boulders had been pushed along with them, but had at least prevented the cars from being dashed to destruction.

Not more than twenty feet behind the cars was a great tear in the cliff where tons of rock had been loosened by the storm and had plunged into the chasm. This was the explanation of the thunderous crash they had heard.

“A mighty close call,” muttered Kyle.

“But a miss is as good as a mile,” said Teddy trying to speak lightly.

It was with profoundly lightened hearts that the travelers set about getting breakfast. By this time their appetites had reasserted themselves and all did full justice to the meal.

They did not dare start too soon on those slippery paths, for skidding would be attended by the gravest danger. So they waited till the sun had risen and dried the roads.

“Gee!” exclaimed Kyle, when at last he and Brick climbed into their car to resume their journey, “this old driver’s seat certainly looks good to me. Last night I was afraid that I was never going to sit in it again.”

“Same here,” agreed Brick. “Suppose at this moment all these cars were a mere mass of junk in that deep chasm.”

“In that case we’d probably never see civilization again,” replied Kyle soberly. “It’s a cinch that we couldn’t make our way on foot in this desert. Our bones would form part of the many collections we’ve seen since we started on this trip.”

“And all my hopes of seeing my father again would have gone glimmering,” said Brick. “It gives me the shivers to think of it. And there we were like idiots rejoicing when we heard the rain was coming.”

“That’s because we didn’t know what rain in the Sahara is like,” returned Kyle. “I haven’t any use for sandstorms, but as between the two, give me the sandstorm every time.”

Most of the time the path wound upward, but at times it sloped suddenly downward and widened out into a broad plateau. In either case, traveling was difficult, and those at the wheel had to drive with the greatest caution.

It was evident that the time was near at hand when the cars would have to be abandoned altogether and the party proceed on foot. It was not a pleasant outlook, for all knew that it would immensely multiply the difficulties and dangers of the trip.

Because the air had been greatly cooled by the storm, it was possible to prolong the morning stretch, and it was fully noon before the usual mid-day halt was made.

No one had had any sleep the night before, and as soon as the meal was dispatched all, except Abdullah, whose turn it was to stand guard, sought their blankets for a long rest.

Ordinarily Kyle would have slept as soon as he had stretched his length on the ground. But to-day sleep was denied him. He changed his position again and again in the hope of wooing the drowsy god, but in vain. His nerves were too strained, his mind too active.

All that morning, Brick had been talking to him about his father. The possibility that he was near him made it difficult for the lad to think or talk of anything else. Kyle had listened sympathetically, but the conversation had opened again the old wound, and now the thought of his own family, their mysterious fate, their possible sufferings, kept racing through his mind. Oh, if he could only find them, listen once more to their voices, look once more into their faces, and hear them speak his name!

At last, to turn the current of his thoughts, which seemed as though they would drive him crazy, he rose softly, so as not to disturb the sleepers, and stole on tiptoe out of the tent. He had no definite purpose in mind, and vaguely thought that he would wander about for a while and finally get so weary that he could come back and get the sleep he craved and needed.

As he passed his uncle Frank’s car, he saw his field glasses lying on the seat, for the captain used them almost constantly, now that he was in this dangerous district. They were very powerful, and bore the name of a celebrated maker.

Kyle picked them up and slung the strap over his shoulder. He passed Abdullah, and nodded to him, telling him in a whisper that he was not going far and would keep in sight of the cars.

Sage and cactus bushes were growing about the place and at one point were so thick that Kyle had to push them aside to make his way through them. The next moment he recoiled, with a startled exclamation, for he had almost stepped off the brink of a precipice.

His surprise was the greater because there had been no inkling that there was any break in the level character of the plateau. Yet now he stood on the very brink of a cliff from which he could look down into a depression several miles wide, and so long that he could not see the end of it.

There was no verdure, unless that name could be applied to the coarse and stunted vegetation that showed in some parts of the broad expanse. Before him stretched an almost unbroken plain of amber sand, glittering in the rays of the Sahara sun.

Almost unbroken, but not quite. As Kyle looked, he noted little hillocks that broke the monotonous flatness of the plain. And they were not scattered at random, but had almost the regularity of a geometrical figure.

At first the thought flashed through his mind that it was of human construction. Intelligence seemed to be indicated by the almost circular shape. Could it be that it was a rude native fortification of some kind?

He unslung the field glasses from his shoulder, and, lying flat on the ground almost at the edge of the cliff, he scanned the valley for any sign of human life. There was none. There were no date palms in sight, nothing that indicated one of the oases where a little group of nomads would locate. Everything was bare, silent and desolate.

Having satisfied himself on that point, he turned his attention again to the little mounds that had at first stirred his curiosity. The glasses brought them near, and he was more impressed than ever with their peculiarities.

Now he discovered that what at first had seemed one circle had resolved itself into three. There were that many concentric rings, lying one within the other. At intervals in those rings were mounds that he could now see were many feet in height.

He knew that he had stumbled on something interesting and probably important, but for the life of him he could not figure out what.

Circles! Where had he heard talk of circles? Fragments of conversation in which the word had occurred came floating back to him, and he tried to piece them into a coherent whole. Circles! Then suddenly a thought came to him that filled him with wild excitement. Could it be possible?

He jumped to his feet and raced back to the little encampment. Abdullah sprang up and looked at him in alarm and then behind him, as though he expected to see a gang of Tuaregs at his heels.

“It’s all right, Abdullah!” panted Kyle. “Nothing to worry about!”

He pulled aside the flap of the tent shared by the captain and the professor. He shook the latter by the shoulder.

“What is it?” asked Amos Bruce, yawning sleepily.

“I didn’t want to disturb you, Uncle Amos,” panted Kyle. “But I thought you’d want to know. I think I’ve found the Cemetery of the Elephants!”

There was no sleepiness now in the eyes of Professor Bruce. He leaped to his feet with a quickness alien to his placid nature.

“The Cemetery of the Elephants!” he cried. “What makes you think that?”

Kyle told him, his words tumbling over each other in his excitement.

The captain, who had been awakened by the hubbub, listened with almost as much avidity as the professor. Then both hurried with Kyle to the edge of the cliff. The glasses were again called into use and they studied the odd circles with the greatest care and the keenest interest.

“I think Kyle’s right,” declared the professor. “Those mounds seem to answer all the requirements of the old tradition. But we will soon find out.”

They hurried back to the cars and got some spades and picks. The cars could not be left alone, and the party had to be divided. The captain and the professor took Kyle and Alam along with them to find access to the valley, while Brick and Abdullah stood guard over the camp.

Brick was in a state of intense excitement, and the hours had never seemed to drag so much as they did while he was awaiting the return of the others. Would it prove only a false hope? Or had Kyle really fallen upon a great discovery?

The sun was setting and darkness rapidly gathering when Brick gave a shout.

“Here they come!” he cried. “And, by crickey, see what they’ve got with them!”

Into the open came the party, weary but triumphant. In the hands of each was a great gleaming tusk of ivory!

[Chapter 18 Maze: Help Kyle Escape]