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
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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
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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
The Face of Isis by Cyril G Page 1
