"What those mean I don't know," said Stern. "There may be human sacrifice here, and offerings of blood to some outlandish god they've invented. Or these relics may be trophies of battle with other peoples of the abyss. "To judge from the way this place is fortified, I rather think there must be other tribes, with more or less constant warfare. The infernal fools! When the human race is all destroyed, as it is, except a few handfuls of albino survivors, to make war and kill each other! It's on a par with the old Maoris of New Zealand, who practically exterminated each other--fought till most of the tribes were wiped clean out and only a remnant was left for the British to subdue!" "I'm more interested in what they're going to do with us now," she answered, shuddering, "than in how many or how few survive! What are we going to do, Allan? What on earth can we do now?" He thought a moment, while the strange chant, dimly heard, rose and fell outside, always in unison with the gigantic flame. Then said he: "Do? Nothing, for the immediate present. Nothing, except wait, and keep all the nerve and strength we can. No use in our shouting and making a row. They'd only take that as an admission of fear and weakness, just as any barbarians would. No use hammering on the iron door with our revolver-butts, and annoying our white brothers by interrupting their song services. "Positively the only thing I can see to do is just to make sure both automatics are crammed full of cartridges, keep our wits about us, and plug the first man that comes in through that door with the notion of making sacrifices of us. I certainly don't hanker after martyrdom of that sort, and, by God! the savage that lays hands on you, dies inside of one second by the stop-watch!" "I know, boy; but against so many, what are two revolvers?" "They're everything! My guess is that a little target practice would put the fear of God into their hearts in a most extraordinary manner!" He tried to speak lightly and to cheer the girl, but in his breast his heart lay heavy as a lump of lead. "Suppose they _don't_ come in, what then?" suddenly resumed Beatrice. "What if they leave us here till--" "There, there, little girl! Don't you go borrowing any trouble! We've got enough of the real article, without manufacturing any!" Silence again, and a long, dark, interminable waiting. In the black cell the air grew close and frightfully oppressive. Clad as they both were in fur garments suitable to outdoor life and to aeroplaning at great altitudes, they were suffering intensely from the heat.