Indiana Jones and the Interior World

by Rob MacGregor

  "Oh, what is it?" Brody asked, his curiosity piqued.

  A waitress brought Indy a glass of Chilean wine, and he took a sip. "A shovel. It was buried three feet under one of the floors."

  Brody looked perplexed. "Well, I guess that means someone else has already been digging."

  The others laughed. "The kiss of death," Maxwell crowed, making no attempt to hide his glee. He was a few years Indy's senior, and Indy sensed that the man had resented him from the first day, when Brody introduced Indy as one of the best young archaeologists in the field and classroom.

  Indy decided not to say a word about the incident with the kid. He'd probably tell Brody about it later. Not only did he want to avoid sounding boastful or overdramatic, but he also wanted to see if any of the islanders who were helping them acted any differently toward him.

  After he'd recovered enough to walk, he'd started down the road, convinced that he would have to hike back to Hanga Roa, where the expedition was headquartered. It wasn't far away as the crow flies, but the road down the volcano twisted and turned and seemed to go on forever. Then, half a mile from Orongo, he found his horse. From the footprints he was able to tell that the boy who had attacked him had switched horses, riding off on his own steed.

  "I wonder if the shovel came from the east or the west," one of the others said.

  "Oh, bother," Brody said. "Here we go again."

  There was an ongoing discussion among the expedition members about whether the people who settled the island had come from the west, Polynesia, or the east, South America. Most were certain the islanders had arrived from other Polynesian islands. But Maxwell contended that the enormous moais that dotted the island's coastal area were built by the same South American Indians who had constructed massive stone cities on the mainland.

  "Jones, what do you think?" Maxwell asked. "We have yet to hear your ideas on this matter."

  Indy shrugged. "You guys are limiting the possibilities. I've heard theories that the original inhabitants were Egyptians, Greek Hindustanis, and even red-haired Caucasians from North Africa. They've even been called survivors of a lost continent."

  "Good points, Indy," Brody said.

  "Don't confuse the matter, Jones," Maxwell blurted. "Get serious."

  "Okay, I think you're both right. Look at the legends. They talk of two groups arriving on the island, the Long Ears and the Short Ears. King Hotu Matua and his followers came from the east, and Chief Tuko-ihu and his people arrived from the west."

  Maxwell waved a hand at Indy. "You can't count on those old stories. They get all twisted around. You've got to look at the facts."

  "Where're your facts, Maxwell? Tell me that," demanded a Frenchman named Beaudroux.

  "I've told you over and over. There are Peruvian Indians who elongate their ears. They were the same Long Ears who carved the moais."

  Beaudroux, a tall, slender man, peered down his long nose at Maxwell. "But do they live near the sea? No. Do they make ocean-going vessels? Of course not."

  "The Indians who lived two thousand years ago probably had an entirely different perception than you do of an ocean-going vessel," Maxwell countered.

  And so it went on and on. Indy's dinner, a lamb stew, arrived as the discussion continued.

  In spite of his difficulties with the tablets, Indy was glad that he was working on his own, rather than excavating ahus, the stone platforms on which the moais had been erected. That was the task which occupied the others, except for Brody, who was constantly involved in mediations with the island's mayor to make sure that everything went smoothly and to assure the islanders that the visitors' intent was to obtain knowledge, not artifacts. But Brody had been bewildered to find that the islanders wanted to sell him artifacts, most of which were replicas of recent origin, like the moai kavakava the boy was selling.

  "Maybe Indy's right," Brody said when the comments started to turn caustic. "There may be no one simple answer. It's like the name of the island. Some call it Easter Island, others call it Isla Pascua. The islanders call it Rapa Nui, and even Te Pito o Te Henua, the Navel of the World."

  "We also call it Mata Ki Te Rangi, which means Eyes that Look to the Sky."

  They all looked up to see an attractive, dark-haired woman. "That's a lovely name," Brody said. "Davina, I don't think you've met Indy yet. He's working up on Orongo."

  Indy shook her hand. Davina had distinctive Polynesian features with deeply tanned skin and long, braided hair. She could have been thirty or forty. He couldn't tell. Her dark eyes met his for a moment. Her hand was cool, and her grip was firm.

  "Davina is studying for a graduate degree at the University of Santiago. She's the curator of the local museum."

  "Right," Indy said! "The one who's been away."

  "I just returned from the mainland yesterday."

  "Well, please sit down and join us," Brody said, pulling out a chair.

  "No, thank you. I just wanted to say that the mayor has found several men who will help you raise the moai."

  "Do they know how to do it?" Brody asked.

  She nodded and smiled. "They have a method."

  The mayor had allowed Brody to bring the team of archaeologists here to excavate as long as they re-erected at least one of the many fallen moais. Brody had quickly agreed, without thinking how they were going to raise a twenty-ton block of stone with no modem equipment. When no one came up with an answer, Brody had put off the task. When the mayor had finally inquired about what was taking them so long, Brody had confessed his problem and asked the mayor for suggestions.

  "Well, that's a relief. When can they begin?"

  "First thing in the morning," she said.

  "We'll be ready."

  "Good." She glanced at Indy again. "Nice to meet you, Professor Jones."

  "It's Indy. And speaking of names, why did they call the island 'Eyes that Look to the Sky'?"

  "Because of the moais. They once had large eyes that gazed out to the heavens." She turned and walked off.

  "Indy, you will join us tomorrow, won't you?" Brody asked. "I'm sure we can use your help."

  "Be glad to." But Indy's thoughts were still on Davina. She had been wearing a necklace, a silver pendant shaped like a creature that was half man, half bird, and grasping an egg.

  According to the island's oral history, the Short Ears had rebelled against the Long Ears who ruled the island. During the civil war, many of the moais had been toppled, and nowhere was the destruction of the stone monuments more visible than the southern coast.

  Indy had counted at least a dozen fallen heads en route to their destination, the moai which would be re-erected. The procession of wagons and horseback riders was led by the mayor, who proudly drove a shiny black Model T. It was the only automobile on the island, and he had named the vehicle Calvin. Brody rode in front with the mayor, while Indy, Maxwell, and Beaudroux were seated in the rear. "At first, I only drove Calvin for ceremonial puiposes," the mayor said, fondly patting the dashboard. "But now I drive him around all the time."

  "Why do you call it Calvin?" Brody asked.

  "I named it after your president, Calvin Coolidge." The mayor beamed.

  "I haven't seen many filling stations on the island," Beaudroux remarked.

  "There are none. I purchase gas by the barrel from supply ships."

  "What a silly thing to say," Maxwell muttered. "Of course there are no filling stations."

  "I'll grant that you're an expert on silliness," Beaudroux chided.

  Indy, seated between the two men, couldn't wait until they reached their destination. His wish was soon granted as they motored around a curve and came to a stop in front of an ahu on which rested yet another fallen moai.

  "Here we are. This is the one," the mayor said.

  As soon as he was out of the Model T, Indy walked over to the monument. He wasn't sure how the mayor had selected the moai, but it hadn't been on the basis of its size. It was neither the smallest nor the largest of the toppled heads he'd s
een.

  About twenty islanders piled out of the wagons and dismounted from the horses. Indy looked around for Davina. He was carrying the ornamental knife he'd taken from the kid at Orongo, and was curious to see her reaction when he showed it to her.

  "Well, what do you think, Indy?" Brody asked as he and Indy climbed atop of the ahu.

  The moai was about twenty-five feet long, and its ear alone was as tall as Indy. "It'll be interesting to see how they think it should be raised. Maybe they'll just wake it up, and it'll sit up on its own."

  Brody chuckled. "Wouldn't that be something. It would go along with the legend." According to the traditional story, the moais had walked from the quarry to their stone platforms under the guidance of powerful priests.

  Indy took a closer look at the platform on which the moai rested. "Has this ahu been excavated?"

  Brody nodded. "An English expedition a decade ago. In fact, there are some bones and stone figurines in the museum that came from here." He paused, then added: "Let's hope the gods aren't angry about that."

  Indy laughed. "Sometimes, Marcus, I actually think you might believe in spirits and gods."

  Brody smiled. "Let's get to work."

  The islanders were busy picking up stones and placing them in piles on either side of the moai. Meanwhile, several men approached the moai with long poles and worked them underneath the gigantic head. The poles bent into bows as several others pulled and climbed onto them. Indy thought that the poles would snap at any moment, but the men persisted. Others, who had mounted the ahu, dropped onto their stomachs, and pushed handfuls of pebbles underneath it.

  So that was the way. It would probably take days, but the method just might work, Indy thought. He noticed that a surprising number of stones cluttered the area around the ahu, and now he wondered if they'd been brought here centuries ago to erect the moai.

  Davina rode up on a horse, dismounted, and walked over to the ahu. Indy didn't waste any time moving over next to her. "It's not exactly magic, is it?"

  "Maybe this isn't the way it was done in the old days," she remarked.

  "You mean, the good old days?" Indy asked with a laugh.

  "In the case of Rapa Nui, the old days were indeed better than what has followed. The last hundred years have been a terrible time for us. We have lost everything, even our history. This island is no longer the center of the world; it is the end of the world."

  Her fervor surprised him; she didn't seem the type to display passion about anything. "Then why are you here?"

  She picked up pebbles and piled them on the ahu. "It is my home, and I want to protect our past."

  "I thought you said the past was lost."

  Davina pushed her dark hair away from her face. "Not everything is lost, but some people would like to steal what is left."

  "Is that what you think I'm doing here?"

  She bent down to pick up more stones. "I'm not sure about you. Not yet."

  Indy pulled the birdman knife from a pocket in his pack and held it in front of her. "Take a look. I think you'll find this of interest. The design matches your necklace."

  She stared at the knife, transfixed. She reached for it, then backed away from the ahu as she turned it over in her hands. "Where did you get this from?"

  Indy was about to tell her what had happened on the volcano, but something in her reaction changed his mind. "I found it at Orongo."

  "This belongs to my son, Manuel. I haven't seen him for six months, and now I'm home and no one seems to know where he is." She backed away, still looking at the knife. "I have to go."

  She ran over to her horse, leaped onto its back, and galloped away.

  Nearly an hour later, the mayor called for a break. Indy stepped back from the ahu and was surprised to see that the top of the moai's head had already risen several inches.

  "Isn't it just amazing, Indy?" Brody said. "This must be the way they did it."

  "Yeah, maybe." He pointed to the round topknot which lay several yards away. "But how did they put the hat on? They must weigh a couple of tons."

  Brody touched a finger to his chin. "Now that's a good question. Let's see what the mayor has to say about that."

  As they walked over to him, Brody cleared his throat. "Listen, Indy, I hope you haven't forgotten about Chiloe. I am still planning to go there as soon as we leave, and I really do hope that you'll—"

  "Don't worry, Marcus. I told you I'd go with you. What did you say your friend's name was again?"

  "Beitelheimer. Hans Beitelheimer. I just wanted to make sure everything was still all right."

  "What do you think, gentlemen?" The mayor stroked his thick handlebar mustache.

  "Impressive," Indy said.

  "Yes, indeed," Brody put in. "But what about the topknot?"

  "Don't worry about it. We're just going to leave that for now," the mayor said. "But it was probably lifted the same way, with little stones."

  That would take a lot of stones, Indy thought, but he didn't say anything more. He spotted Davina returning on horseback. As she dismounted, he excused himself and headed over to her. "Any news about your son?" he asked.

  She nodded. "Everything is okay. Now I understand. Manuel was afraid to talk to me, because of what happened. Thank you for not hurting him."

  "Why did he attack me?"

  "I can't explain now. Can you meet me at Anakena Beach this evening?"

  "What do you have in mind?"

  "The Matuans want to talk to you."

  "Who are the Matuans?"

  "A secret society which carries on the old ways."

  Indy did his best to hide his excitement, but he knew he was about to make a breakthrough. "I thought the old ways were forgotten."

  "What is known is kept secret so it can never be stolen again."

  "What do they want with me?"

  "You've proven yourself, and they want to talk about the Rongo-rongo tablets."

  "I'll be there."

  "Come alone, and tell no one."

  3

  The Matuans

  The water glistened under the stars as Indy walked along the beach toward the distant glow of a camp fire. Anakena was the largest beach on the island and the legendary place where Hotu Matua landed fifteen hundred years ago. Now, it might also turn out to be the beach where the puzzle of the Rongo-rongo script was finally solved.

  Indy wasn't sure what awaited him. It could be trouble. But the risk was worth it. He hadn't told Brody what he was doing; Marcus would surely think it was too dangerous. He wouldn't stop Indy, but he'd worry. By now, Brody would be tucked in bed with a book, which was probably the best place for him.

  As he moved closer to the fire, he saw several silhouettes gathered around it. Suddenly, a bird darted low overhead and cried out as if to announce his arrival. Indy glanced after the bird, then nervously tugged at his fedora, and touched his coiled whip.

  One of the men said something as he entered the glow of the blaze. Suddenly, several people moved away from the fire and drifted off into the darkness. Swell. What's going on?

  "Hello, Indy."

  He spun around. "Davina! Where did you come from?"

  She smiled. "Relax. No one's going to harm you."

  She wasn't exactly convincing. "Where did everyone go?"

  "They're on the way to the cave."

  Indy knew that the lava-covered island was pocketed with caves. Some of them had once been inhabited, and others had probably been used for ceremonial purposes. He'd inspected a couple of them, and had been told that earlier expeditions and many islanders had dug in the caves looking for artifacts. So he'd figured Orongo, which was thought to be inhabited by ghosts, was a better place to dig for the tablets.

  A bearded man with dark eyes emerged from the darkness. Firelight flickered across his face, making his features appear to shift from one moment to the next.

  "This is Raoul," Davina said. "He's the one who opened the door for you."

  "Are you the one who told Davi
na's son to stick me with a knife?"

  "Manuel is also my son," Raoul said. "He was being tested, as were you."

  "I think you were playing a dangerous game with your son," Indy snapped.

  "Neither of you was meant to die. So neither of you did. Now why do you want to read our tablets?"

  Nothing like getting right to the point. "To learn from them. To preserve the knowledge."

  "That is the job of the Matuans. Not yours."

  "But why must you keep it a secret?"

  "There has been good reason. You know our history. But maybe it is time for us to change our ways. Makemake has told us in dreams that a worthy outsider must be given the opportunity to learn ko hau motu mo rongorongo."

  "That means 'lines of script for recitation,'" Davina said.

  Raoul nodded. "We think you are that person." With that, he walked off into the darkness away from the sea. Indy glanced at Davina and she pointed after Raoul.

  Indy sensed that Raoul was telling him the truth. He felt like a man who had just stumbled upon a treasure chest filled with gold. He just hoped it wasn't fool's gold.

  They walked for half an hour into the hills, before they stopped near an outcropping of rock shrouded by underbrush. Now Raoul seemed uneasy. He stared past Indy into the darkness. "Did someone follow you?"

  "I came alone just like I was told. Trust me."

  "I feel we are being watched from a distance. How did you get here?"

  "By horseback. I walked the last few hundred meters."

  Raoul smiled and seemed more at ease. "It's your horse. He's wondering what happened to you."

  "They call that horse sense," Indy said.

  Raoul pushed aside the thicket and motioned for them to enter. At first Indy saw nothing, then Davina disappeared into the darkness and he blindly plunged ahead. If they were lying to him, it was all over. One of the others he'd seen at the fire could club or stab or shoot him. Maybe they already had dug a grave inside the cave and just wanted him to get closer to it on his own. But he pushed aside his morbid thoughts as a match flared behind him, and Raoul lit a torch. They were inside a tunnel with just enough room to stand up.