“Oh, dear!” she thought. “I suppose it’s terrifikly greedy, but I did love them being so small and cuddly.” 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.